Another day passes, I find myself wondering how many have been and how many more are to come. In this place with a lie for a name, I often wonder if time holds any meaning at all. My place of residence is the Shrine of Ascension, a place where people speak of the surface above as though it were some promised Heaven. Outside the Shrine, street-brigands and murderers rampage about the streets, in this dark place long since forsaken by the protective forces just up the stairs.

Every day that I pretend to have lost my sanity, I find my grip upon it slipping. Ideas that make no sense suddenly seem plausible, spontaneous riddles spring to mind with everything observed. It frightens me, to think of what could happen should I become yet another ragged, half-mad street preacher down here. Timidly, I spend hours trying to stretch my mind without it breaking, but I have been feeling limited.

My studies continue, despite my location. I've made astounding progress, master would be very pleased. A shame that the old man died. No matter, I suppose, we all die eventually down here. My friends and companions, Rindlegaun, Toman, Myria, they all seem to disagree. I know it to be otherwise, though. I recall Toman once saying, "you take a step, then you take another step, then you just keep on going until you reach the surface". I fear they all might be taking steps right into the awaiting arms of something unpleasant.

And damn it all if my quest for the almighty Seekmutt hadn't come to such a bland end.

My boom is not yet powerful enough. I must grow, fester, like an unwanted fungus in an infected wound. No, that sounds unglamorous. I must grow as a rich man in an inn grows wide. Yes, that seems more appropriate. I wonder what it's like to be wide. I assume it feels somewhat nice, as the wide people I have met seem happy enough. Admittedly, they're all Uppers.

Uppers, their minds dominated by the Spellguard. I witnessed one of their horrific domination rituals once, in which they claim to be checking should you be a Mind Flayer thrall or not. It's a lie, of course! They plant a thing in your brain, and it commands you as they will. All of them are being controlled, none are to be trusted. Especially not the gnomes.

That reminds me, I must acquire gnome tears, along with dwarf beard. My next experiment depends on it! I have been told that dwarves and gnomes have related ancestors, I must investigate this further by divining upon things they seldom ever part with. Hopefully, Rindle will be willing to yield tears. If not, I shall have to take them from him. I can, after all, kill him with my mind. Can't I?

Yes. Yes, I can. I could kill every one with my mind. At least, I believe I could. No, no, I couldn't, that's insane. Why would I, even if I could? To do so would be wrong.