[The book is tattered and old. A black cloth wraps around it's previous shell. The parchment inside is dirtied and the text is written in cursive with black ink.]

And so it shall be.

Mith'Szeous and I will hide in the vast lands that surround the Sanct. Once more we will be cast out. Told that we cannot be seen on the streets. We are too chaotic and troublesome to rebuild a broken home. And what home is that?

[The ink becomes thick and in print.]

I've sent words to praise Orcus beneath me. He has sent no words back. No speaker. No listener. I feel that I am alone in this dark hole. No one speaks my tongue and my language, they all look at me as if I am some crawling, decrepid being.

And even if I was, I hold more power than them all. How the powers can be unleashed is what I am uncertain.

[The ink thins down as he writes in cursive.]

Llantil, who will be the Serpent, the partner in my games. He and I discussed our needs and wants, our dreams by the vast fall. He and I will work together to make me become a blackguard through ritualistic sacrifice.

He doesnt find it at all odd that I will consume the hearts of the Sanct's children to ensure that I am fit to become a loyal servant to Orcus.

He wants me to help him raise Moander, and I see this exchange fitting for my cause, as well as his.

This will be the time of the tyrant. And what tyrant?

The time where demons will walk this dark, mortal plane, and bathe in the exsistance of enthrallment and humanly sacrifice.

[Smeered in ink.]

Ziiankinzouliximaz Vilbiss. The Demon.

[The next parchment is covered with dirt and has a blackened quill pressed into it.]

So today will be the day that I am to finally attempt to travel into the Sanct. Last time I attempted this, it did not end well for me.

This time I am alone, so I can be as quiet or loud as I need to be. You're either the shadow of a crowd, or the crowded shadow.

[This parchment is similar to the last- dirt spread across it's pulp-made tissue- the text written with thin black ink.]

The Serpent and Mutuu went into seperate corners and slept. I sat there wide awake as I watched them...

So innocent in the rested state. The two men are as much a threat as a pebble that is locked in a sea of stone- lifeless, and unmoving, waiting for an outsider to merely tap it, to change its whole course of life.

Mutuu. He interests me. He killed Connie, and I did not even need to reimburse his efforts. Three thousand coins I didnt need to waste.

I will pay him back somehow.

Serpent. He is quiet.

Mith'Szeous. She has me weakening.

Even demons have emotion, as brittle, and lithe as they may be.

[The text starts to thicken.]

My next task is to confront a speaker of Orcus. To tell the speaker of my goals. To create a trail between Orcus and I, to let him know that I am the willing one, and that I will do as he commands.

Once this is completed...

Some loved human will be pulled into the shadows. His stomach slit open, and his entrails removed. His organs that once kept him alive will dance at his feet, heat raising towards the endless darkness, that in his dreams were once skies. His hands, and my own will clench onto the painful gash that will end his life, then I will push out his eyes, and remove his tongue.

Feast.

His teeth will be added to the collection.

[The text stops ubruptly, but there is no evidence of danger, or misfortune.]

[This parchment is clean, and written with red ink.]

I've came up with a plan to get my child, who will be used for ritualistic sacrifice. I'll let the serpent enter the orphanage, and set up a small event, where he will tell the children stories... I havnt decided the location, but a quiet place that isnt in public eye. Then, I will have either Mutuu or Mith'Szeous kidnap a wandering child, and pull them to me... then, I will do what I please.

I am still missing the acid. Let the poor child's skin burn.

[This parchment is written on brand new parchment the ink is new as well.]

We spoke to the Zhentarim. He asked Mutuu and I to kill two men. The two men names will not be mentioned because it is the hearts that I am interested in...

[This parchment has several words scribbled out, the ink is thick, and the text in print.]

The man in blue armor subdued me once again. He forced his tasks onto me, and basically enthralled me. He killed Mutuu. The one creature in this dark that I could get some use from.

I went to the embassy, and spoke to Ambassador Igatiev about Mutuu's death, and with an oath from me, he sworn me protection.

Now I will just need to see where everything goes from here.

[This entry is written on old parchment, but with recently bought ink, and an untwisted quill, with a steadier hand.]

I am proud that I secured a safe place for Mith'Szeous and I. Thank the Ambassador for his hospitalities. I am through with his cat and mouse game.

[The next part is written roughly, and some words crossed out, with a sloppy hand.]

Let those who impede my path to power fall with a slow, painful death. To hang with a hollow chest, their hearts ripped from their cages, and with my blackened hand, fed back into them with a swift cut of the throat. Let their minds twist and contort to the thought of death, where they care only for themselves, and kill mindlessly, until they are the ones who will die.

Blue one, let this be a final, indirect warning, that I will rip you open, and if I fail, those who will burn in hell, will burn upon you- let the ash be the snow, and the flames be the hope, for this is the time of the tyrant.

[The parchment is newer, recently bought, the text is written with red ink, the edges of the parchment are burnt, likely from a candle. The parchment smells like stinkweed.]

I spoke to the ambassador in the shadow temple, and just like Ambassador Ignatiev, it is a place for Mith'Szeous and I to stay.

Its hard to say that I'm weakening to the Dearest. That she is making me understand her foolish, human emotions!

[The ink becomes thick, and smeared as he writes the next text furiously.]

I burst into the mass grave, I stole the lifeless meat from the corpses, I will devour this as a treat, that someone is doing my work for me. Thank them.

They feed me. They make me content. They make me survive.

Thank you.

[This parchment is tattered. The text thick but written in cursive.]

It was beautiful. There she knelt, her hands clasps together in prayer, speaking after me in praise to Orcus.

I drew my blade and cut open her arm, to let the pure blood spill onto the ritual parchment. She, with her marvelous, feminine hand smeared her name into the blood. Locking away her independant hopes and dreams to be eternal in servitude to Orcus.

She screamed his name as the shadows danced around us, his presence over my shoulder. I could feel his thickening breath. As she stood, It is certain Selune's grasp on her lifted away, and Orcus enrooted his glorious trait into her. Her blood will be blackened from this dark onward.

I will be her teacher now, to show her what it is to be a orcus worshipper.

You have contented me, Dearest. You have made me weak, but now you are puddy in my blackened hands. Now, I will use your wizardry to summon the speaker.

Thank you Mith'Szeous.

[The text is written on the bottem of a previously used parchment.]

Llantil, the servant of Moander, where are you? Your services are needed.