Yellowfield: Field Report — Cathedral Annex, 1973 (Declassified)
From the unbroken grassland to the shattered stone, the Yellowfield has stood for centuries. Some come seeking answers, others never leave with the same eyes they arrived with.
In the shadow of the Cathedral of St. Alwyn lies an expanse known only in archival whispers: the Yellowfield.
First committed to paper during the late winter of 1973, it was described as a “spatial constant with mutable boundaries.” The phrase came from the lips of the first Archivist to set foot here — a man who vanished six months later.
Pilgrims, scholars, and wanderers alike have reported changes in its landmarks between visits, as if the land remembers who walks upon it, and alters its shape in response. Some have claimed to see lights moving beneath the soil at night. Others insist the wind here carries syllables in languages no one living speaks.
(Handwritten note, margin of page)
“The grass was higher than my waist. I thought I could see the Mausoleum from the ridge, but when I looked again, there was nothing but wind.” — Field Agent 04, 1979
“Remains of an unrecorded structure, partially reclaimed by moss. Unstable ground.”
“Stone chambers sealed in 1911. No documented entries post-sealing.”
“Tall grass boundary; crossing is not advised without escort.”
“Remnants of cultivation; seasonal blooms follow no earthly calendar.”
The survey map above is incomplete. Even the Cathedral’s own records admit its cartography cannot be trusted — the paths change, the markers shift. But these four points remain the most consistently reported across all expeditions.
“Survey v1.3 — Landmarks observed across multiple expeditions; coordinates unreliable.”
OBSERVATION WINDOW: CLOSED
Report sightings to the Archivist before next equinox cycle. Failure to comply will result in restricted access to the western transect.
Glyph Sketches
The earliest Cathedral survey teams returned with these hurried drawings. The lines are imprecise — the Archivists reported the ground itself seemed to blur if one stared too long. Some researchers believe these markings predate the Cathedral itself, remnants of a forgotten order who once performed rites under open sky.
Surveillance Photograph
Captured on a Ministry reconnaissance flight. The origin date of the film reel remains disputed — some claim the paper stock was discontinued decades before the Cathedral was even founded. In the lower-left corner, a lone figure can be seen. Their identity, and whether they are living or statue, remains unresolved.
Memo Snippet (Declassified)
CLASSIFIED – Yellowfield Entry 3/7
“…patterns remain visible from the ridge. Whether they are intentional or a trick of the terrain is inconclusive. Recommend further observation during equinox cycle. Avoid prolonged exposure to the Hollow Verge without a tether.”
(Faded pencil scribble)
“They told me to watch the Hollow Verge at dusk. I did. I wish I hadn’t.”
Cross-referenced from field sketches and oral accounts, these glyphs appear repeatedly — carved into stone, burned into wood, or traced in the soil itself. Their names, if indeed these are names, are preserved here:
Veil — A boundary between known and unknown.
Beacon — A call to those beyond sight.
Threshold — The liminal passage.
Return — The point at which one may safely depart.
Veil · Beacon · Threshold · Return — recurrent markings logged across expeditions (1973 Annex).
Download the Minor Glyph Key (PNG/SVG) / Yellowfield Field Notes — Annex reference sheet, 1973.
(Typed strip, taped onto the page)
NOTE: Glyph interpretations are provisional. Do not attempt to inscribe without clearance from the Narthax Council.
The Yellowfield endures — wind shifting through grass, silence stretching between heartbeats. It has no gates, no walls, and yet those who enter rarely return unchanged.
What waits beyond its edge is not for the unprepared.
Archive Entry Complete. Access to Manifesto requires elevated clearance.
(Loose scrap, fountain pen)
“…bring no mirrors.”
