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[A leather journal with a beautiful cover with intricate patterns and a slot in the center housing an amethyst gently poking out, shiny and of proper quality, lies somewhere in Fazir's possessions. He writes his idle thoughts with delicate hand, resulting in charming calligraphy.]

Amethyst is my favourite gem, everything about it is just perfect in my eyes. Wine colour, a symbol of royalty, luxury, wealth and power. Not only that, it wards off negative energies, I can sense the aura of Ephia's Well, it is like crashing waves against the seashore. Turbulent, troubling, tense... It is good that I have my spiritual protections in order, or I would be taken by these waves as so many others. I can see it in the dead eyes of the adventurers, those poor clueless souls. They strife, fight, battle and do naught else. Discuss the latest fashion, the idle politics, their enchanted gear. No thoughts to the state of their soul! It is a sad thing, their unnurtured spirits.

I'll need many more precious stones to ensure safety and prosperity for myself and those I care about. Speaking of, that's zero people at this moment. Zero. I do not care for anyone but myself. Am I an egomaniac? Definitely not! But these people are so dreadful... I'm fairly certain I'll meet some kindred spirits, but I really do wonder where and when! If I were to guess, I would probably get along well with Wheel priests. Although they aren't going to follow me along the roads to wealth and prosperity, they at least are concerned with the state of the soul! Yes... Maybe I should find an Izdur! Or a Gellemedite! If that's what you call them? Trickery and joy, a deadly mix of entertainment, sounds so fun! Fun fun fun.

And what luck I had! An *exclusive* piece of fashion was sold to me, from that store in Palm Heights, I should really know the name and it is shameful that I do not. I'll visit it later today, have it stick with me. Oh, that silly girl really put a smile to my face. What a good first impression I am making, a pauper refugee, immediately supplied with this season's f....

Wait a minute, she sold me last season's fashion. Last season.

Are you serious?

[The Journal gets bloodied and dissapears.]

Nevermind, I'll have to pay him back. Don't want to be actively hunted by the Banda.

Does Luther know I will never pay my debt to him?

It's been a few cycles before I've come around to writing in this sad, decaying, journal.

Failure marked me and I was taken captive.
Then forced to scrape before a waterbearer and admit my Sins.

I've gone through the motions, and perhaps the Wheel priests could've convinced me to take on a new mantle, a new role, shed my skin again and start anew.

But no, I am rejected thus, banned from the Krak and so forth.
It makes my path forward clear; I will retake what I've lost.

Through War with the Orcs, my strength at least, is proven again.
Now only my adherence towards the tenants and my dedication towards the cause, is left to prove again.

The Krak ban irks me, the fact pathetic rats complained to have me barred entrance, rather than challenge me, is simply cowardly. Ephians are a legendary craven people. They stand for nothing, they take the safe road and talk a huge deal. It's no wonder I've chosen this path.

Yesterday at the End, the warmaster spoke of breaking the cycle.
I wonder if this related to the Ninth, and whether it is of offense to Him.

I am an ignoramus still. I need to know more tenants, I need to know His wishes. What does He want, and how can I earn His blessing?

I think the Shamanka will accept me again.
But the likelihood that she will outright slay me, is not zero percent.
I'll risk it.

Advocate Argent,

Make a bellow with the word 'red' in it three times to summon me to the Kha'esh tavern.

I think I can be of use to you.
So let us have a talk about mutual benefit.

- Mazeed the Reformed

This shamanka exudes confidence and raw power. It irks me to stand across her like a clueless babe in the woods, I wonder what she sees... Exposing my weakness bluntly and openly is a cost I am willing to pay for now, if in return I am allowed wisdom and teachings. The only thing to mind is not to get eaten by her.

I imagine to act life out in the way described pleases the dark higher powers that I wish to beseech. But I myself am conflicted by it's lessons. What I crave most of all is to gain the approval of these powers and be rewarded by it. They are a means for me to achieve my ambitions, which is to dominate these sands and to crush the ruling class. In that I do find myself aligned with the teachings. They are prey, I am predator. This shamanka has sowed doubt in my mind however in her judging my eagerness to be unnecessary and without purpose. If I went ahead with the ritual and savagery I eluded to in my previous pages, would He even notice? If it is done without results, what will I have achieved? Beside of course, endless amusement for myself. I do enjoy the havoc I inflict upon the unwilling victims, such is my nature, for which I hold no shame at all.

So... for now... I go on, extracting the wisdoms from her and others who are alike, to contemplate on... But once understanding is gained, I will detach myself from this willing role of a clueless student and 'Become'.

I must say though, my blood boils, my skin aches and I wish to sink my teeth into the prey. Sooner rather than later!!!

A GRAND CURSE

A concept, a grand reckoning, a plan, a ritual, a terror upon all.

Top, Left
FAITH
Top, Right
MURID
Right, Top
ANTETHE
Right, Bottom
DUDLEY,
Bottom, Right
AMMON
Bottom, Left

Left, Bottom
NELA
AMELIE

Left, Top


Needs ten times more thought than given thus far.

I hold no desire to engage this settlement's blasphemous 'Asterbadi experiment'. A ritual where protectors step in to arbitrarily keep the weak alive, where dominators rule over the strong undeservingly, where they grow complacent. Think how many by this process of weakening will immediately perish once walls and society crumble. It is because their ways are against fundamental principles and truths. There is prey and predator. It is artificial and false to pretend elsewise.

Though reality is, for me to accomplish anything remotely worthwhile, I must partake in this sacrilege to attain the necessary tools to usher in a new dark age. I will be forgiven in time, for my accomplishments in prophecies borne witnessed in dreams and ritual visions will be grandiose. A decay of the Disc is in full progress and it's inevitability is beyond discussion. A harbinger I'll be...

The one to bend, to misshape, to push and pull, to further the cracks until the great thunder comes from the sky and earth alike... The Shattering.

An ambitious fate. Too ambitious for one's own good.

Blood to putrefy the waters,
Blood to defeat and make whimper,
Blood to cover the texts,
Blood to sacrifice life,
Blood to expose the secrets,
Blood to cover the path,
Blood to corrupt sacred ground,
Blood to deny vengeance.

A fair blonde chasing to purify with unwavering resolve.

The First.

...

The Second.

A Murid holding a crooked staff.

The Third.

An enthused soul seeking to purify the soil with blood.
A poetic Sister leading prayer masses.

The Fourth.

...

The Fifth.

A raven haired guide.

The Sixth.

A melancholy man saddened by mourning, witness to history. Death by Orc.

The Seventh.

...

The Eighth.

[A leather journal lays in a drawer, ready to be opened and have quill touch paper. A red string is embroidered in it's cover, in a neat circle.]

I rarely interact with you directly but I definitely am interacting with all your content and work and enjoying it. Happy belated birthday and thanks again.

You handled him with grace in his life and are handling his end well. A multi layered character with genuine interest in others, which is fun and engaging for all involved. Good job.

We must talk on matters pertaining faith in Ephia's Well. At your earliest convience, Murid.

Ever Faithful,

Vladimiros Moraitelis