[Stannus's journal is a thin volume bound in black rothe leather. The yellowed pages bear text written in charcoal.]

Marpenoth 23rd:

I have often reflected on my own mortality, but I never thought I would face death at the hands of such a pathetic creature as a kobold. Nevertheless, death may come at one from the unlikeliest of sources. Todark, one of the wretches approached me from behind, thinking I did not hear its claws clacking against the cobblestones. From the dagger it clutched in its hands, I can only assume it intended to kill me.

I do not dare to call it good fortune that the creature tripped as it lunged forward to strike at me. It had much to learn of discipline, that is all.

For my part, I hope the beating I gave it as it struggled to regain its footing has instilled the creature with some small sense of its own fragility. Too few in this city cling to foolish hopes, when in the end they will find only loss.

My own path is the superior one. I have embraced my loss, and by my choice steeled myself against the hardships of a mortal life. The others may cling to their false hopes until the city crumbles around them; when it does, I will care little. Life has already done to me what it will.