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Long time in the coming, but at least it's done. Lots to cover in this one.

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Field operation: FW_0021_DRSV
Audio File: FW_0021_DRSV_LOG_03
Audio Record Date: 8 hours after FW_0021_DRSV_044
Participants: Dr. Sundaram, Fae Entity Six-Finger White-Whiskers
Transcriber’s Notes (D5 William Wright):

This is the first transcription where Fae entity Six-Finger White-Whiskers is recorded - but not just in audio. System logs of the recorder have registered Six-Finger White-Whiskers’ fingerprints at an administrator level. It appears that Sundaram (for good reason, given the contents of the log) has clearly given Six-Finger White-Whiskers full access to all Eyeglass Corporation devices at the site on his behalf, in some cases going so far as to give administrative-level passwords.

In light of this, it is recommended that ALL passwords associated with or created by Sundaram be changed within the corporation to prevent any unauthorized access attempts by Faewild creatures in the future. It is fortunate perhaps that Six-Finger White-Whiskers - or indeed Quadcadia - did not know how much damage it could do with the access levels it had to the pods or structures that were deployed.

(Note from B2 Adam: recommendation accepted. IT has been informed to clear all passwords and access rights accordingly)

Transcription:

(There is the sound of fumbling initially, as someone is fiddling with the recorder)

Sundaram: “Do you have it? What light is on? Is it red?”

(A different voice speaks up. It is somewhat high pitched and hisses, with the ‘s’ stretched and slurred a bit.)

Unknown Person: “what is ‘red?’”

Sundaram: “What is...oh. I forgot. Colors are different now. It’s...its the same color as blood.”

(There is a brief pause before Six-Finger White-Whiskers replies)

Unknown Person: “Yes-yes. Blood-red. Is it…’on’?”

(Sundaram can be heard stepping closer, his hooves click-clacking against the ramp next to the pod.)

Sundaram: “Yes...this means it is recording. You have followed the instructions well, Six-Fingers. Please leave beyond your hearing range of this camp, I would like some privacy.”

(There is the sound of an affirmative ‘squeak’ followed by chittering. Claws can be heard against the ramp before turning to footsteps on dirt and fading away. There is a pause for roughly 2 minutes before Sundaram speaks up. It is recognizable as him through the speech patterns and the fingerprint scanner on the recorder.)

Sundaram: “This is the audio log of…”

(there is a pause for a moment before Sundaram continues)

Sundaram: “...I don’t dare to say my true name anymore - for many good reasons. My talk with the Proctor was...very eventful and with his suggestion I have chosen the designation ‘White-Horn Machine-Born’ or ‘White-Horn’ for short in all my dealings with the locals.

To summarize events today before I get into them in more detail: Some of my new senses came up in greater detail - some of these physical, others mental. I then spoke to Proctor - we talked for well over two hours discussing topics of my (confirmed incomplete) change, and finally the assistance both him and his patron were willing to provide. This...was probably the highlight of the day, as I saw the Proctor uplifting a rat right in front of my eyes to form Six-Fingers White-Whiskers.

As far as possible, I will try to go in order but I may deviate on brief tangents to cover small elements I had observed through the day.

The first thing to note is that sight is not the only sense that has changed - though more on that in a moment. The good news is that I am not fully color blind - however I can no longer see reds, which means perceiving red-greens is going to be particularly difficult.

This is not just upsetting because of the loss in color acuity, but also inconvenient because so much of the damn equipment sent out has been labelled with Red/Green to indicate warnings or safe operation. I’ve gone through each display I can and set it to color blind mode as much as possible - but the hazard stripes for instance look like a dull yellow color or a bright one, depending on if it’s red or green.

It’s annoying as hell - I highly recommend that any B2 or B3 reviewing this look at our disability policy and making our equipment more color-blind friendly, especially if we’re setting up more gates to other worlds where color usage may not be as prominent. I’m just lucky we don’t have anything too hazardous on this trip.

The other thing to note is light sensitivity - and I’ve noticed this while walking through the woods to meet the Proctor. My eyes can’t seem to adjust to light levels as quickly as humans and I had to stop many times to just let it adapt before moving on - while being suddenly exposed after leaving the canopy can be blinding. I can’t really focus very well either, but have noticed the new instincts have adapted my head and neck movements towards this, adjusting straight forward for distance walking, then lowered down for obstacle navigation. It made moving through the crowded woods a lot harder than when I was fully human. The upside though are the hooves - these seem to handle underbrush and similar a lot better than human feet...and walking actually felt physically easier, even if navigation was harder.

Going back to the other senses though - I’ve noticed my smell has gotten a lot better compared to my vision. I noticed this when I opened up some of the ration packets earlier today. Their smell was always distinct - the curry full of flavor and spice - but I did not realize just how impactful it was till I smelled it with my new nose. It hit me like a ton of bricks - and...its so hard to describe! A whole new world by itself, unlike any I’ve known. I could smell the spices, the radishes, the carrots and peas. The way it had been stewed, the subtle nuances of it all.

Eating it was extraordinary - though it’s clear I can’t handle spice as well with the new intensity of it all, but it is still a major upside that has brought much joy over the morning. As a note, hearing has picked up as well - one thing I noted after I ate and showered was that I could hear the flow of water through the pipes of the pod a lot clearer, while the hum of the generator was much more notable. I spent a good half hour just walking around the camp setup and listening.

We don’t have proper hearing testing equipment, but I can confirm that my range has definitely increased compared to human baseline. It makes sense given the nature of this being a prey species. Though this brings me to some of the mental changes.

The flight instinct was particularly powerful - especially as I walked through the wood; I was jumping at shadows, wincing at every snap or ruffle of bushes that I had previously ignored as a human. There were more than a few occasions where I felt...unease walking through areas I had before as a human. I don’t know if it was something I heard, something I smelt or just...paranoia, but I had to take detours because I couldn’t force myself to continue.

Unease is something that happens often I’m finding. It’s something I need to be careful of in the future, especially if it happens to taint my decisions. I cannot imagine how these creatures live naturally with such an instinct - though...I think I’ll be finding out soon enough.

The final - and most unusual - sense became apparent the moment I approached Proctor. It’s...hard to describe. The closer I came to him, the...heavier he seemed. The weight of his movements and actions seemed to distort the perspective of his body. Each hoof step towards me bringing with it a wave of rumbling across the ground. It wasn’t the stifling of air - but something else. I was suffocating, smothered under it like a blanket.

Blanket. That’s a good way to describe it. A common, shared weight that is all around you, all over you that only got greater the closer one approached. It’s intensity was the maximum when I was a foot away from him. It was like staring at someone you knew was old, someone with great wisdom - but in a more instinctual way.

Proctor knew what I was feeling. This he told me, was the weight that all Fae felt - the weight of promises they had made and accumulated through their lives that tugged upon their souls. The weight of promises that they carried on their shoulders. As I was unburdened, there was no weight around myself - but over his collected millenia he had gathered many promises; either those bound to him or those bound to others.

Proctor demonstrated this. He summoned several mice from the bushes around him with a wave of his staff. As they scurried forward, I could see it - feel it. The little threads that changed and moved the blanket around me, each of them having their own little blankets around them which seemed connected by threads to Proctor.

The mechanics of orbits and space-time actually come to mind now that I think of it. The weight of promises equals mass in this case - and it’s weight bends the space time of the fae-senses around it. It gets more complicated though in the way its connected, especially in terms of mutual promises between people.

I could feel it all though. I could understand it at an instinctual level in a way that was both comforting as well as terrifying. Proctor demonstrated to me how the land enforced promises as he attempted to lie - but then the very fabric of that blanket around us seemed to seize on him, wrapping around his mouth, his very being. It wouldn’t let him speak it.

The truth of the situation right now is that as a new Fae, I am in a unique position - I am not burdened as he is, as many are by the promises that they have made or hold on others. In some ways this makes me a free agent and apparently incredibly powerful since I can do more things without the repercussions those belonging to a court may face.

This brought the question of breaking promises - to which Proctor stated that the consequences of breaking a promise vary on many circumstances - from why it was broken, to if it was under my control, to the scale of the promise and even just the mood of the person involved. Almost always though, it means inheriting a deeper promise or owing of debt to the aggrieved party or some form of atonement that is enforced by the land.

If it’s something fundamental or through deep malice though, sometimes it can mean that the very land rejects you, causing both physical and mental harm, if not outright death. Terrifying as it was, Proctor wished to imply that he may at his discretion attempt to keep me safe from any malicious entities that would seek to bind me as long as I was within this camp area and gate.

It was not a promise, but a way to indicate his assistance towards me at least. I genuinely got the feeling that he wishes to aid me. Why, I am uncertain...but it is clear that no matter what the motives, he has indicated clearly that he does not expect an exchange of favors, repayments or promises in his actions, thus preventing binding me. I stated that I acknowledged his efforts but said no further out of fear of accidentally binding myself.

Our conversation then moved on to the matter of my body - and what I was turning into. He was unsurprised that I was turning into a unicorn - a creature he states of fantastical beauty that brightens the lives of whomever it may touch, often bringing healing and life. Something that was appropriate perhaps to my work as a doctor in life - though I wish perhaps that I had taken a class or two in law to help with my current...predicament. Though heaven knows what creature I’d end up as then.

As I suspected, my change is incomplete - but what is coming forward is what worries me. It seems that tonight I will likely lose not just my hands, but also my bipedal nature as I transform into a complete equine. This I explained would greatly hamper my ability to actually complete or at least terminate my mission here.

I had come to terms that I was not going back - but a lot of the equipment needed to go back along with all of this knowledge. It was imperative I had to get that completed. I asked Proctor if he would be able to assist, indicating that I would be willing to negotiate some form of compromise in exchange, either from Eyeglass (as far as I was authorized) or from myself personally.

Proctor seemed aware of this and instead offered aid (again with that clause of non-reciprocity), stating that it may actually be in his best interest to help in removal of the foreign equipment from his territory and the gate. To this extent he would offer me an assistant and companion - one that would remain at my side and be bound to me.

This...made me suspicious. And I’m still suspicious even with his reasoning. Proctor feels too nice. There must be a catch somewhere. Maybe they just wish to keep an eye on me. Or maybe they’d rather my mood be positive towards them. It is beyond my ability to deduce - but I could not say no. If I were to lose my hands tonight, it’s basically the end of the mission, especially as we do not have any methods of disabled access for half the equipment.

I asked about the nature of this assistant and we spent a good half hour hashing out the agreement of it. I would be given a being that was bound to me to do my bidding as required.

I wasn’t very comfortable with that sort of arrangement - it seemed like slavery. Proctor agreed, surprisingly. Ordinarily no Fae would be willing to let themselves be bound like that - and many avoid making more as much as they can, even if they have inherited some of these promises from their parents.

It was why he was giving me something slightly different. An uplifted creature. A companion that while Fae, would gain its strength from me - just like how he got his strength from his patron. The way Proctor described it, it was less a matter of servant-master relationship and more of a mutualistic companionship. Just as it would be my hands and fingers, I would have to guide it and ensure it survived and remained healthy - for it’s sentience and intelligence relied directly upon me.
This type of binding disturbed me at first, but I couldn’t help but be quite fascinated by it. He asked for nothing in exchange either - and this was clearly hashed out as we finally came to an agreement. I didn’t really have much other choice. I need hands, even if they aren’t mine.

When asked if I could meet this companion, he said I already had and pointed at my hooves. There, many of the mice and rats he had summoned earlier had gathered as they currently seemed to be studying both me and Proctor. He let out a squeak and one in particular rushed towards him. Unlike it’s peers, it had six fingers on it’s front paws and brilliant white fingers.

As Proctor held it in his hands, he began to utter words in a strange language I had never heard before. It’s syllables and words seem fairly nordic in it’s accent - I regret not having my recorder with me at the time unfortunately. Still, the process was...strange.

I felt the first promise take hold upon me, it’s weight on my own shoulders - a thread tying me to the Proctor as our agreement was bound in the land. I could see it wrap around him, pushing its way down as a force into the rat in his hand.

And then...there was a connection. Not a weight like the agreement. It was...different. A thread, an intimate connection. I could stare out of the eyes of this rat as it stared upwards at Proctor. I could see as it reached out with a six fingered paw, patting at the long beard that reached down to his chest. I smelt the things it smelt, felt the things it felt.

I could feel it as well as it seemed to look towards me. Seeing itself through my eyes now. Watching itself grow in size, becoming larger, more man-sized. It’s back changed and twisted, it’s head grew as Proctor placed the writhing body on the ground. I watched myself-itself-himself twisted on the ground as the flesh expanded outwards, mass growing exponentially then slowing down.

It’s-my form changed, I could feel the back become straighter, the hips widening subtly, the legs growing in length and changing shape subtly. The structural changes that came with being more upright as opposed to quadrepedal. Then the changing of the front paws to proper hands, the musculature of the arms shifting and twitching. None of it was painful, it was actually rather pleasant.

At the end of what felt like an eternity, I stared down at a 4’ tall rat - one that stood upright. I knew it’s name instinctively, the name it had from the day it was born to now. A name that gave me power over it...but at the same time I knew it knew my name and similarly held power over me.

We were connected in a way that I cannot describe - but I knew at all times where he was and how he was feeling - and after asking, he confirmed the same, replying with a keen intelligence and sentience that caught me off guard. Proctor asked what he should call the rat. The rat said to call him Six-Fingers White-Whiskers. A fitting designation, given the rat’s six fingers -which he had retained through the transformation.

We gave our affirmation and acknowledgement to Proctor before leaving shortly thereafter. I have since been spending the afternoon and evening setting Six-Fingers White-Whiskers up on all our hardware. He is picking it up quickly - and I think is partially because he seems to instinctively pick up on what I’m trying to say. There is a definite, empathic bond between the two of us - and it’s definitely helping out with the communication greatly.

I’ve set him up as administrator on a lot of things. I know IT’s going to have a hissy fit but I just don’t have a choice right now. With luck when the change happens tomorrow, we’ll be ready to continue operations and note taking - as well as winding down the equipment for it’s journey back. It’ll be challenging given the color blindness mentioned earlier...but I think we can do that.

The only question remains though...what am I going to do after that? It’s...a question I don’t want to tackle just yet. I’m trying to take things one step at a time. I figure that’s the best thing to do right now.

This audio log has gone on long enough I think...I’m signing off here. Su-...White-Horn out.