Transcript of Grondaban's stalker notes
4th age, year 1867.
Entry 1 [Links to the first entry.]
Entry 2 [Links to the second entry.]
Entry 3 [Links to the third entry.]
Entry 4 [Links to the fourth entry.]
Entry 5 [Links to the fifth entry.]
Entry 6 [Links to the sixth entry.]
Entry 7 [Links to the seventh entry.]
Entry 8 [Links to the eighth entry.]
I am now at the bottom of this labyrinth; my Master has allowed me to continue my studies while he makes further preparations for his rejuvenation - whatever that may mean. My missing journals still have not been located, but Bilrach seems to be more occupied with what is behind one of those doors in his sanctuary; I have heard things, and seen things that I believed impossible... such as when he returned from another plane with that stone; I wished to study it, but I was shot down without question. When he returned with that beast who screamed at the sight of the stone, I asked to study it but I was shot down without question. I feel as if my usefulness is dwindling here, I thought I was destined for more than this.
The cascading energy on this floor feels beyond recognition, the air itself tastes of ash and sulphur but there is an otherworldly oppression lingering in every shadow, I feel like my every move is being watched... the constant feeling of paranoia is overwhelming. I fear that this floor will be the last, we seem to be close to the end now.
I have been allowed to learn further about where the Stalkers come from and their history, however I wonder if that is because I am becoming an annoyance to Bilrach? Perhaps he requires this knowledge? I do not know. Either way I know my time is limited, and I will carry on as I have always done - through theory, facts and study.
Stalkers originated from the lower plane realms close to the planet our Kal'gerion allies, originate from. The beings come from a world that is roughly translated in common tongue as Ocularis. My Gazer friend attempted to say the home realm in his own dialect, on my request. Nevertheless, before he could finish the name my nose haemorrhaged and we both were crippling in pain. Yet, when he saw my distress he swooped down and used part of his body - or should I say eye? - to prop me up against the warped wall. I believe this to be an apologetic gesture on his behalf, however bloodied I may have been it did not intimidate him.
I took three full days to recover from the mishap, perhaps I underestimated the negatives effects a language could have upon myself; I recall from my time in the above floors witnessing this, but a small nose bleed only occurred then. Foolishly, I presumed it would be the same. How does a word cause such physical pain, both for me... and for him?
Today, I learnt all about their home planet, should I say planet? Asteroid or moon, perhaps? I do not know is[sic] the correct terminology for it. However, the seekers call Ocularis a moon, so as such I will refer to it as that.
Ocularis was once a rock hurtling through the cosmos at incredible speeds, the sheer size of the rock warped the gravity of the surrounding worlds as it orbited the universe.
The moon for a millennium was dormant, a sphere of rock, littered with chasms and craters; it was there in the depths the first seeker became to be. Out of sheer luck or some divine power the 'father', as they call him, was born.
N.B.: I say 'father' loosely, the Stalkers seem lack[sic] any form of gender.
Like a cancer he spread, clinging to walls and gripping to the rocks. Multiplying in a way that I can only explain as metastasis, as if the moon was birthing a growth itself, within minutes it was consumed. Through power and chaos what was once a world of stone was now a world of living flesh. With a silent shriek, the stone shattered within him, churning molten rock the being reformed the stone with it's[sic] flesh into a living working brain, but the brain could not see, or hear, or think... the neoplasm was not living.
A battle of static energy fought for dominance in the stone brain, with each spark signalling a sense. The brain could not decide which was the important - which one was the correct sense that a living organism needed, if it could only choose one; by the power and glory of Zamorak, it was chaos and survival of the fittest that decided the outcome.
The winner was clear, just looking at the Soulgazer in the front of me, it is staring right at me!
The brain needed to see, to observe so the flesh tore away from itself, twisting and ripping into a ball of living flesh; an eye: all seeing, all watching... learning?
With the father's new-found ability to see, the husk did as[sic] it did before. It lay dormant, waiting in a quiescent state for the moment to cultivate, continuing to travel across the universe but observing and learning with each passing moment.
This is all that the Stalker has shown me today, I await tomorrow with an insatiable hunger for the knowledge that is being on me, a lowly human Grondaban.
Supposedly, Ocularis - the name of the rock that the father took as his own name - came to a planet named Infernus, supposedly this is the planet where Kal'Ger comes from; however, I cannot confirm this, and I do not feel that any of demon generals are approachable enough to give me the evidence I desire.
The demons of Infernus were unaware of the beast that was above them, as Zamorak waged war casting Cthonians out, the moon watched.
Studying every move, every conquest the father learnt more about life. There was a beauty in the flames, the beauty was in the destruction... but above all there was a beauty in being one of many, fighting for a cause.
As our Lord Zamorak set the Avernic free from their Cthonian enslavers, banishing those who sought to harm the demonic usurper of the God Wars... the father watched.
The twenty-year war passed[sic] his eye in a moment, the battle was won and the victors celebrated with a fury and bloodlust that the father had never imagined be possible... he longed for the war to carry on, not for his entertainment but for his understanding; as the Cthonians entered the abyss in the chains and shackles that they once forced their Avernic vanquishers he watched, confused yet joyous to witness the weak Cthonians cripple under foot. The father wanted to cheer, he wanted to listen to the celebrations... he wanted to taste the blood, the ash and the sulphur... But he could not, he could only watch on.
He tried to understand why the chaos created the strongest forms of life - A brain of stone cannot comprehend the true essence of being a living thing, and he knew this. So, like a malignance awaking from its dormancy, in a moment of proliferation the flesh bubbled and boiled and birthed a whole new race; the race we know of as Stalkers.
These beings, made in his image, were more than he could be. These beings could hear, they could taste, they could feel, they could procreate... but most importantly they could see. They could see what could not see, so he sent his children across the universe to watch, to learn and to listen - he sent them 'stalk' the knowledge he could not - he needed them to learn for him.
The main bulk of his children were the Gazers and Seekers that occupy every floor of this labyrinth; it was the Seekers that sought the most knowledge, while Soulgazers that would gaze into the soul of a person to see what they see, to learn every secret, every thought.
N.B. Does this mean my Soulgazer friend knows more about me than I know of myself?
However, there are more types of Stalkers out there, many more than I could ever imagine: From the Anima Harks, to the Leviathan Beseechers to the Cataclysm Observers. They are always there, watching and learning from the Father.
The father, after all, was wise. An intelligent being that became of nothing, who had mutated and tore the moon asunder. In his wisdom, Ocularis' mind of stone became the only mind his children would ever know. For while the stalkers are truly his children, the stalkers are in fact him. Learning, adapting and waiting for the day our lord Zamorak would come and show and teach his philosophy in the flesh.
My Gazer friend is quite the conundrum; he is both an individual and yet he is the swarm. One mind and many... a collective intelligence, a hive mind? Have I been talking to the father all along?
Today I am being sent to the final floor by orders of Bilrach, below here is his personal quarters, Floor 61. Supposedly the father wants to show me the shadows he casts over the infernal dimensions.
Through the floors of Daemonheim (I believe that is what Fremennik invaders are now calling it?) I have descended and now I will go further - no human has been allowed on his floor ever before, being so close to the rift is far too dangerous for a 'weak lowly human.' With each step the air is becoming thicker, I cannot breathe deep into my lungs without the burning sensation choking me further, I feel like I am suffocating.
I am to meet with a new stalker, one they call 'Veil-ripper Ozharakha'... to think when I wrote the original Stalker Notes of the ones above I knew nothing of what I know now. Heck I hadn't even encountered this Veil-ripper!
But as I meet him now he is greeting with a voice that I can only explain as so loud it became silent?
The Veil-ripper is calling forth Soulgazers, as I hurriedly write this journal entry they float over me waiting to show me their truths.
As I write this he has evoked a shadow portal that envelops the light around me. The shadow, it keeps pulling me forward... the father tells me it is a portal to him, and that I will be the first human to enter the Infernal hive, what an honour this is! The father wants to impart his knowledge on me! The father must have seen something in me... Maybe I have more uses for Bilrach, after all? Or maybe I have more of a use for the father now? I am in awe.
I am to give the Soulgazers my writings thus far. I must thank Master Bilrach for believing in me, for tasking me of this greatness, I truly look forward to imparting more knowledge on my return.
Praise be to Zamorak!