*This small notebook is bound in an aged, dark leather. On the outside there are several small drops of dried blood, probably not intentionally placed there, and a single word, written stylishly; "Khexir". The writing inside is clear and written with equal effort, and equal result, as an expert scribe. The first third of the book address different subjects of magic, lore and results of different alchemical tests. After this part, a title is written on the top of a page*

Journal

I have been in this city of Sanctuary for several cycles now. I have managed to divide the general populace into two groups; Those who have succumbed entirely to their bestial side, and those who hide it inside them.

I am accompanying a priest of the human god Cyric in his travels. The fool still thinks me his loyal slave, and I have no intention of proving the opposite. He has turned out to be a man of many enemies, though despite those he has drawn into hating him, I still command a greater crowd. It turns out there are people in these streets with no better thing to do than chase kobolds and other 'monstrous' races. I have tried conversing with them, but their manners are more than enough to earn them a place amongst the bestial side. The foremost of them even failed to argument for him chasing kobolds in another way than us being 'bloodthirsty monsters' who are going to eat his children, when the ogre of the Crone was standing right behind him.

I found several other kobolds aswell, and persuaded them into meeting the Cyricist priest. We were supposed to take care of a group of goblins in favor of the city when we were attacked, and most of us killed. We turned out to have been betrayed by one of our own, who had bargained this for the sparing of MY life. Such strange behaviour is...Rare, at best.

The foremost hunter broke his word however, as I was expecting. I escaped easily by means of invisibility, returning to the place where the Cyricist resides. The other kobolds are all dead, so for a while I shall bide my time.

I only lack for the company of intelligence. I wish master was here, so as to provide me with atleast a moments worth of true conversation. The blabbering of these imbeciles is starting to itch beneath my scales.

I briefly returned to the city, to restock on supplies that are not available in the residence of the Cyricist priest, and there bumped into a bleeding kobold. He had gotten his hand chopped off, and was soon joined by another. I watched, and spoke with, them out of invisibility, and saw them walk away to reclaim the hand, which had been chopped off by goblins.

They were ambushed by three goblins I did not recognize, and I left shortly after, returning to the Residence. It would have been quite annoying if I had suffered their attention instead.

I travelled with the Priest of Cyric again, both within the town and outside of it. I barely escaped the notice of the man who calls himself 'Protector of Lower' when he entered the room I was about to rest inside, while invisible.

After our short, repetitive journey, we returned once again to the residence. I asked him to, if he was ever to visit the richer part of Sanctuary, the district known as Upper, if he would see if there was any merchant selling focusing objects for summoning. He then promised me not only this, but to also retrieve one of those stones their citizens use to receive the sendings. I was curious as to the nature of the stones, and spent several hours brooding over it, without being able to determine anything noteworthy.

After he made this promise, the Priest of Cyric surprised me greatly. He asked me to call him by his first name. I was so sure I had been hiding my true disposition good enough, so it struck me as quite the surprise. A human understanding how physical size doesn't exclude mental superiority, have I never met before.

I shall need to be more careful in the future in my dealings with this man, as he might prove more intelligent than I previously thought.

I must remain hidden, too many foolish, blind mammals walk around with hatred in their heart. Too many imbecile gnomes spit at the thought of scales, with no consideration of the intellect behind them.

To see so much as I do now, while they cannot see me, I never had thought possible, without facing repercussions.

I tried crafting wands, for the first time today. I remembered a few times that my old master had enchanted pieces of bone and wood with magic, to use in emergencies, but I had never thought it would be so interesting, so difficult. Perhaps that mammal, one of the few who are actually polite, who is working at the inn of the Pissing Crone, would want to see me now. He did ask me if I could craft wands when I met him the first time.

I should find him, and ask him. But not show myself, never show myself.

The priest of Cyric suggested we accompany a group that was making recruiting calls through the sending system. They wanted to get rid of some sort of undead issue in the Doombringer temple in Lower. The Priest said he'd make sure they were alright with my nature, before I'd reveal myself, and as it was so, we joined them.

One of them turned out to be a paladin of the human god Ilmater, the second servant of this god I had met. Though this one was not like the Protector, but a much more quiet individual. She didn't sense my true nature, and the Priest hid his own with a warding spell.

We left early however, to make sure this trend was not broken.

I believe the Priest of Cyric might well turn out to be more socially able than I thought at first. He managed to convince a party of goodly priests and paladins to allow me to join them...

I tried the spell Fireball, for the first time since that time in the old masters lab. It was quite exhilerating, obliterating zombies so quickly.

A human by the name of Goddard accompanied me and the Priest on a small task...After I had healed his wounds in the aftermath of a small skirmish, he made the promise to in the very least remain apathic if he would ever see me chased by a mob...

I shall need to remember this man, additional favours on my part might further improve his disposition towards me, after all.

I summoned a spirit today. By concentrating deeply on a knucklebone, I managed to turn my summoning powers into dragging a deceased spirit back from the grave. It helped greatly in our misssion. I shall need to study this further.

I met a doll claiming to be a knower of the weave, or the 'debris' as she called it... Evidently it was true, as she was somehow controlling a halfling into carrying her. I will need to speak more to the doll, this whole thing interest me, as does her radical ideas.

I continued my study of the undeath, and by the means of an amulet I managed to animate the corpse of a deep rothe... The priest of Cyric appears already adapt in this sort of magic, so it would not hurt to accept his advice, for the time being.

Once again I made contact with the same group of goblins, though this time there was four of them. Their leader seemed to be a priest of the god Maglubiyet. What intrigued me was the fact that they were in the residence. I have only met two other people, beside the Cyric Priest, in the residence. And one of them was this Molly the Doll, and the halfling holding her.

These goblins seem to have organized some sort of hunt on kobolds, as every time I have met them they have carried trophies of kobolds with them.

It turned out to be impossible to speak with them, as they could not refrain from spitting insults even in the neutral place that is the Residence... I shall need to remember their disposition if I ever decide to make contact with an individual of their race.

By means of invisibility I continue to travel on the streets of Lower Sanctuary, and in the tunnels beneath it. They may believe all kobolds to have been killed or chased away by the head hunt they organized, but in this they could not have been more wrong.

The easily frightened imbeciles that live walk the street in their rags, I have no quarrel with. But those who seek to kill me just for having scales will find me not so easy a prey.

I have lost every material object I gathered since I arrived here. I must start over, but perhaps, soon, this will be less difficult than it has been before.

The Priest will help me, I am certain. Although the real question is for how long he will be alive to offer his aid.

I now hope only for those of my own race, to join me and the Priest both. If enough come, then maybe, and just maybe, there will be no more hiding.

Nobody has left word yet, and perhaps nobody will. Am I really the only kobold left around these parts? Or are they just too frightened to join me?

Maybe they fail to understand the great safety that is travelling with me and the Priest. Last time we were careless, but we will never make such a mistake again. I shall make sure of it.

I wonder what has happened to the kobold hunter, and his men. I have not seen them while scouting the city for many cycles now. I hope they are not dead, as that would probably dismiss any chance I could have to animate their corpses. That would be the final revenge.

I once again met the goblins of before. This time, it was only two of them, but once again it was in the Residence. I begin to wonder whether they use it as a base, or atleast a secondary base or designated safe area. They were speaking about cowardly kobolds hiding from them, so it would seem they have not yet abandoned their hunt.

Quite tiresome.

The Priest found me again, and I explained my situation to him, whereupon he promies to replace most of my lost gear. I was surprised, to say the least, but accepted the charity. All I lack now is the gold I had and some potions, but I am not so greedy as to request this aswell.

He spoke of how he was attempting to grant me free access to Upper, and how that mage, the Mystran devotée, Illian something, was somehow supporting the effort. Or just expressed interest in my person, I am unaware of which.

I shall have to keep an eye on this Illian, as it could prove his disposition towards me is even more than the neutrality I assumed earlier.

I met a very unsettling man this cycle, withing the Residence. He was constantly laughing, chuckling or making puns, yet overall still appeared to be a sad person. He was talking about how some people had killed a 'scaly' friend of his, and that these people were evil, and had hurt both scaly people. And green people, whatever that's supposed to mean.

I bribed a strong warrior, into a state of possible neutrality. I will have to talk to him a few more times within safe areas, to make sure my assumptions are correct.

I can't wait to try out that new spell I found within the crypts...

I travelled without the Priest for the first time in many cycles, and accompanied a pair that had obviously known eachother for a long time. They were an elven locksmith and archer, and a halfling warrior, who insisted we call her Shade.

I am unsure what to make of Shade. She seems...Fragile, unstable even, at times. She is easily angered, and almost got into brawls several times.

She might prove an ally, as she at a couple of occasions stood up for me when I was threatened in the streets.

Maybe I should ask the Priest if he knows her... No. I should not, this would only further his suspicions about my loyalty.

I assaulted a goblin camp today, but neither the Priest nor the halfling Shade accompanied me. I ran into a group of large people coming from Sanctuary, when I was en-route there from the Residence, and I decided to warn them about a group of earth elementals while invisible.

The group was apparently lead by the human Goddard, and he convinced the rest of the group to let me join them, one of them was a halfling I continue to bump into.

The assault went well overall, and I think I managed to increase all of their general disposition towards me by lending my aid, making Sanctuary in general slightly less hostile.

I crafted a wand containing charges of the spell Sleep, something I believe might come in handy. Now that I am beginning to understand the magic in wand making, I should contact Shade again, she repeatedly asked me whether I was able to make wands for her last I saw her.

The Priest promised once again to retrieve some researchal equipment from Upper, equipment crucuial to my study of the undead. It is easier for him to animate, being granted his power from the Prince of Lies, others are not so fortunate...

Where is that Kazzal? I have not seen him in the streets for many cycles. It might be a strain on my luck to find him alone in a dark tunnel, but one should never stop hoping. I will prove to him that attempting to kill me will NOT be tolerated. Perhaps removing his fingers would suffice? Such an injury would wound him more than in the flesh, what with his belief in 'personal strength' and 'magical weakness'.

Last cycle that halfling sneak Dag tried to recruit me and Shade into killing someone he claimed had murdered him... He gave a sufficient description, and I was ready. Shade refused however, so I kept my mouth shut.

This proved as good a decision as any; I saw him bested today, and as I understand it he bought his life by sharing a bounty with the one who was better.

*This page is covered with various wet drips, made by tears, water or saliva is difficult to tell.*

Filthy goblins! Imbecil gnomes and foolish humans! I will *there is a large hole in the page as if the quill has been pressed hard enough to rip through it, making it impossible to determine what word used to be there* -- all and eat their eyes, one by one as they lie before me!

They try to hunt me, to kill me, to maim ME! These elves and dwarves, covering their noses in disgust or growling behind their beards, pretending to be better than I!

They hunt kobolds and goblins, claiming we are monsters and it is their right to kill us, when they only do so to distract them from realizing the reality of their pathetic environment, their desperate, weak attempts at delaying the inevitable doom at the hands of those Drow and Duergar they fear so much!

*There is a long series of words which are difficult to determine, being scratched over at several points and scribbled with a carelessness unusual to this notebook, perhaps even in a different language*

*a pair of small drips of blood adorn the page, the ink remaining clear and easy to read*

The Priest gains more followers. He fooled some 'little' half-orc into following him into the Red Skull fortress, and had me along with him. We easily subdued the stinking halfbreed, and for a long while attempted to make him scream.

The Priest needs followers more desperately it seems, as just now he put a curse upon the half-orc, forcing it to obey him or die a horrible death. The half-orc is truly a fool to believe this.

I have my souvenirs, and with that I am satisfied. His front teeth will make a fine addition to my collection of defeated foes.

The priest hasn't appeared in a long time now... He is probably dead, or he went even more insane and decided to 'Smash everyone in his way' and run for the surface alone.

I wonder what happened to that human wizard, or both of them even...I haven't met with the Mystran devotée since he sold me those scrolls, and that other one.. I half expect him to come for me with some plate-wearing imbecile any time now.

Perhaps I should just stay in the Residence for a while...I know the proprietor doesn't approve of violence inside, so it might be safer... But oh so boring.

*the page is covered by various blood drips, and the lower part is completely soaked by it. The writing is slightly shaky and upset*

That fool! That utter imbecile, that mentally retarded excuse for a necromancer! He almost got me killed!

Apparently it is impossible for someone like him to just run, to just flee when there is no chance! Oh why did I go back?! I almost got myself seriously hurt in the process!

Summoning Vampires to attack a watchman...What the hells was that excuse for a priest thinking?! I expect him to be executed shortly, too bad I can't be there or I would help them by casting the first rocks against his ever smug face!

*the page after the bloodsoaked one is dripped in what smells like ale, and is written a bit sluggishly and carelessly*

The wizard came to visit... He paid me for the stalking... It will be fun to experiment with that scroll... Maybe he could? ... No, he's one of those fancy upper magicians...

Rhade is dead by now... I'm certain of it... Nobody around to protect me anymore. Maybe I should try and get his killers? That fat watchman... And... I forgot who else.

Thomas is not very good company, I shall have to see if I can find some wizards in the town... There is a new regime, which is more friendly towards my race. Perhaps, I might even contact them.

For now, I need scrolls. My spellbook is far from complete.

I saw the Warchief Orc for the first time, perhaps he might become a sort of protector, if I aid him... I will have to remember, and be humble at all times.