A few days of travel or a lifetime of endless wandering, I am not sure, but we have trusted the dragon to lead us down into the depths of the Earth.
Although we really had no choice in the matter, it turns out his information was correct. We all managed to avoid creatures of immense digging power
along the way. Although they do not seem to be able to dig through space-time on their own, but the fabric of our world and the one we aim to get to
seems much more fragile than a few layers of dirt and sediment.
Though we know the danger is not passed we have entered the realm of the dead (at least, I assumed the spectres spectating above us are dead) and have
spoken with the prince of the underworld himself. Distressed and livid, he confirms my suspicions that the beings ominously (and actually mindlessly)
hovering above us are those of ponies past. They cannot seem to find their way home. And although the weavers are not responsible for the destabilization
of the rifts between dimensions they are the ones influencing the fragile spirits into staying in the physical world for too long. When spirits dwell
where the ought not to for too long they degrade into nourishment for the weavers. The Circle of life… after death. End log 4