Having only now, for the first time, decided to begin keeping a journal. I feel it is necessary for me first to cover, in as much detail as I am capable of remembering, the events of my life up to this point.

I was born on Midsummer during The Year of The Harp (1355 DR). My father was also born on Midsummer's day, just as his father before him, and just as every first-born son of our line since the time on Memnon. Our lineage traces directly to that Efreeti Sultan. The first of our line Fiet il'Memnon was born six thousand and eight hundred years before the standing stone, these Dalelanders seem to hold so dear, was raised. I am of the 205th generation since Memnon.

In the time since the imprisonment of Memnon and the Djinni Sultan Calim, we have ruled the city known as Memnon, from which he once ruled all of Memnomar. The fire has always burned strong in our blood, and has been often rekindled. My grandfather, a powerful sorcerer named Jafar il'Abdul was the last to rekindle the flame. He feared that our blood was growing weak. And so, despite the fear of the commoners and the laws of the Syl'Pasha, he summoned forth the seventh daughter, by the seventh wife, of the sultan of the City of Brass. He had but one wish of her, and so on Midsummer's Day in the Year of Thunder (1306 DR) she gave him a son, Akbar il'Jafar, my father.

Despite the fire in his blood, my father had few children. I was his first child, born late in the evening of his 49th Birthday. My mother was his seventh wife, and the fire ran in her veins as in ours (though perhaps not so strong as in my father). But I was a difficult birth, which she did not survive.

As his heir I was raised in the lap of luxury. No desire of mine, however base, however cruel, was ever refused. I was taught to pity the "pure" humans, those whose blood was wholly of this dreary little world. I was taught to respect the children of Calim, whose blood boils with the wind, for we are not so different. And it has always been we, the descendants of Memnon and his efreet hordes and the descendants of Calim, who have ruled Calimshan.

Beneath my father's palace was an ancient, and not quite dormant volcano. As a child I often played in the caverns, leaping from rock to rock over pools of molten lava, as a human child would play at the bank of a river. I knew every twist and turn of the caverns, and would often avoid my lessons by retreating into their warm embrace. Legends said that when the city was new the volcano still stirred with cataclysmic energies and was filled with portals to the Realm of Fire. If any portals yet remain I never knew.

Beyond the rooms of fire and lava, though, there was a place I was forbidden to go. Past the still active lava pools, deep within the dead heart of the volcano there is a room where a glittering green circle dances in the air. I snuck there many times as a child, trying my best not to be caught in the forbidden corridors. On my last such trip my father caught me there. He was not so mad as I had feared he would be, but he told me that I must never play there. He told me that the green light lead... elsewhere. It lead to a bad place that he reserved only for his most hated enemies, those for whom even death was too good. Although I still romped through the lava caves, I never again went towards that fearsome green light.

In the Year of the Gauntlet (1369 DR), my life changed, and my father's ended. There might be those who say that my father brought it on himself, by being a cruel and unbending tyrant. Maybe they're right, but what does it matter now. My father's Grand Vizier, Abdul il'Shar launched a coup on Midwinter's day. My father was slain in his bed, by a magically invoked ice storm. May the dishonorable dog who did that suffer a thousand torments in the City of Brass. And the traitorous palace guards slit the throats of my younger brothers and sisters. They would've slit mine too, but Abdul wanted the pleasure of ending my existence, and our royal line, himself. And so I was brought before Abdul, in chains.

He began a mighty spell, designed to snuff out my very life force, and rip my soul apart, banishing each piece to a different Hell. At least that's what he told me would happen. I cringed in fear as he intoned the last words, but my expected demise never came. I felt the power of his spell wash over me, and through me, I felt my soul shudder. But then it seemed as though the fire in my blood consumed it. My fire's burned hotter than ever, and they exploded around me in a blue-white aura. Suddenly the restraints holding me were gone, nothing left but melted and charred bits of metal. Abdul and his guards were dazed by the explosive results of his spell, and I was more than a little stunned myself. I barely managed to recover before them, but I was able to reach a secret passage beneath my father's throne.

I fled into the bowels of the castle, deep past the cells where those unlucky enough to incur my father's wrath were sequestered while he decided their fates. I fled past the catacombs where 203 generations of my family already rested, and I thanked the Firelord for whatever miracle had kept me from joining them. I fled because I could here the guards in the halls and hidden warrens searching for me. They had not long remained stunned.

I fled to the place where I had gone to play as a child (though, as I fled, I was yet hardly more than a child). To the room where the glittering green circle danced in the air. I didn't know what awful place it might lead to, but I felt that the devil I didn't know was certainly better than the demon chasing me. The demon who had promised to send me to a large number of very bad places simultaneously. I easily lost the guards in the twisting ways and noxious fumes of the lava caves, plunged down the forbidden corridor, and stepped into the portal.

I stepped into a land of burning sand. Around me strange black stones reached towards a crystal-blue sky, seeming to claw at it. It looked as if the stones wanted to rip the blazing orb of the sun from the sky, to end their fiery torment in this forsaken place. I turned, and found one of the pillars behind me. I reached towards it tentatively, but found only hot, firm stone. There was no trace of the gateway, which had brought me.

Not knowing whether they might find the portal, or even whether they might follow if they did, I moved quickly from the stone, doing my best to leave no footprints in the sand. I hoped, from the heat, that it was late afternoon, and so I walked toward the sun, toward the West I hoped. I don't know how long I walked, but still the vast plain of sand and stones extended as far as I could see. The sunset, and still I walked, as a full moon rose above the desert, drawing eerie shadows out from the monoliths.

I walked through the night, and through the second day, pausing briefly to sleep in the shadow of a pillar just after highsun. I found neither water, nor food. Only the fire in my blood, which still burned brightly from the lingering effects of Abdul's spell, sustained me. And so I passed my second day in the strange desert. And so I passed my third.

When at last I paused to rest, I decided to attempt climbing one of the pillars, whose sides were less steep than the rest. I slipped many times, suffering many scratches and cuts, but having been so long without water, supported only by the very fire of my blood, I did not bleed. Finally, as Selune reached zenith I succeeded in scaling the stone. I turned, and in the South, at great distance, I saw a small collection of fires.

This gave me some small joy, but a greater amount of trepidation. I had no idea where I was, and did not know what matter of beings might call this place home and build there camps in such a forsaken place. My young mind conjured images of baby-stealing Dao, and devils dancing about pillars of human skulls. But I did not think they could be my pursuers, so I had little choice but to approach them. The fire runs strong in my blood, but three days without water left even me weak. I feared that without water to temper it my own fire would consume me. So I stumbled towards their camp, across the moonlit plain, being careful to skulk as best I could in shadows of the monoliths.

As I neared the encampment, I felt a sudden rush of wind at my back. Trained, as a Pasha's son, to avoid an assassin's blow I dropped to the ground and rolled just as the stinger of giant scorpion struck the ground where I'd stood. I rolled to my feet and saw a hideous creature, half-man/half-scorpion. I'd read of them in my father's library, they were called Tlincalli, or Stingers. I prepared to flee when I heard another appear behind me; again I rolled, but not so quickly this time. The tail struck my leg and pumped the foul venom into me. The last sound I heard, before the world went dark, was a battle cry coming from the camp.

I awoke in a tent, made of white canvas. I was lying on a mat on the floor. My leg was wrapped in bandages. I looked to the sides and saw others in similar conditions, dark-skinned men. I heard a voice, and turned to see a man at the entrance of the tent. He was looking at me as he spoke, but I did not recognize his words. He approached me, and gently, but firmly, forced me to lie back down, then he removed the bandages from my leg and examined my wound.

I noticed that he wore the symbol of At'ar, sun god of Anauroch, and knew at last where I was. As the man examined my leg I pointed at the symbol, and named his god. He looked at me and nodded, he asked something in his own tongue, which I could not understand. I tried to speak with him in all the languages I knew, but he spoke none of them.

When I recovered fully I lingered in the camp. Helping the aging shaman as best I could. No one in the camp spoke any language I knew, but in time I was able to master theirs. By the time of my fourteenth birthday I spoke the tongue of the Bedine fluently, and was formally apprenticed to the aging druid, Khalid. A month after that the first assassin came.

We were trading with a small Zhent caravan, and had formed a common camp for defense against the beasts of the desert. As I slept I was awakened by a sudden burning sensation in my back. I woke to find a hand over my mouth, and a dagger in my back. It felt like a kidney, I knew my death would be swift.

The assassin spoke with a Tethyrian accent, "Your head will fetch me a fair price. Do you know how much your death is worth?" She asked, but did not loosen her hand, not needing me to answer, "Oh well it doesn't matter, the venomous magic of my dagger will kill you soon." I felt the magic seeping into my blood, but it did not feel like the tlincalli's sting. Where my blood and the magic toxin mixed, the spell seemed only to be fuel for the fire in my blood.

I bit down on her hand, letting the fire boil out of my gullet. She screamed as her hand burned away, and released me. I pulled the dagger from my back, and felt my inner flames cauterize the wound. I rolled and plunged her own dagger into her chest. She twitched, and then lay still.

I stood, and turned to find my master watching. He nodded, "I thought perhaps you carried the flame. In the morning you must begin learning to control it." With that he dragged away the assassin's body and burned it.

I learned much from Khalid. I learned not just the ways of nature and how to find and use the magic of the desert. But he also taught me of my gift. He said it was rare, but the Bedine tribes passed down stories of one other who had had it. Long ago before they left Zakhara for the ever-growing Anauroch. There was a woman, born the daughter of an Efreeti and a mad barber, she too could harness the fire in her blood, and she too could stoke it with the spells her enemies cast.

The legends name her as a great hero of the Bedine peoples, until at last the fell Brotherhood of True Flame who sought to control her power captured her. They had lost many promising mages to her power, and in the end the very leaders of the cabal had to seek her out and together bind her. But in the end she was taken into their fortress and never seen again. I could only hope my story would not end the same.

I have since met those who claim that the inner-fire is a gift bestowed by the goddess Mystra on one child in each generation. Maybe that is true of these northerners, but all I know is that when I harness the power it does not come from some distant goddess, or even the Weave, which they say is her body. It comes from the flames in my blood, the flames that have burned in my family for two hundred and five generations.

Time passed, many assassins came, and died. Today, while I was with a hunting party, far from the eyes of my sometimes too gentle master, I captured a spellsword, who like all the others had been ill prepared for dealing with the power of my fire.

I burned much information from him before he died. Abdul has proclaimed himself Pasha of Memnon, with the full support of the Syl'Pasha in Calimport. The godless bastard has placed a contract on my head, and only my head. The son of a dog is currently offering 25,000 pieces of gold for it. That, at least, explains the endless parade of assassination attempts I've had to live through recently.

As the assassin, an ugly man named Jamal, gasped his last breath in this world I felt an odd sensation. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I turned and looked around, certain I was being watched. My master has taught me what this feeling means. I was being scryed upon, almost certainly by Abdul. I turned to face his sensor, and laughed, "You'll have to do better than this to end the line of Memnon, Abdul."

I felt his voice in my head, and silently prepared to absorb any spell that might be forthcoming, "Then I will do better, Fiet. I know not what magic you control to slay my servants so, but I will simply have to up the price on your pretty little head. Sooner or later one of them will get you, unless I get you now of course."

The spell came out of the sensor, as I knew it would, and was my power consumed it before it could even take form. I laughed again, "You are a fool, Abdul, which will make it all the easier when I come to reclaim my city." I looked at the smoldering corpse at my feet; I silently called out to the embers and encouraged the fire to rapidly consume his body. "As far as your assassins go, make sure you tell them all that those who seek me, seek their funeral pyre."

And with that I snatched his sensor from the air, letting my flames feed upon its power.

Another assassination attempt today. I was able to get some information from him before the poison from his own blade finished him off. It would seem that Abdul is getting desperate. The price on my head was increased to 50,000.

I caught Abdul, for I assume it was he, scrying on me again today. Kerim noticed it too. He had his gen, a lovely little efreetikin named Tala; retrieve a spell to dispel the sensor. I could have handled it myself, but I didn't want to offend Kerim or his gen. Given our shared affinity for fire, we've always gotten on well.

I made a new friend today. I found an abandoned jackal pup, barely a year old. I've named him Caleb. There haven't been any assassination attempts lately. Maybe Abdul has finally given up. I can always hope.

I knew it was too good to be true. Caleb caught a young woman prowling about the camp. I questioned her before killing her. It seemed that Abdul wasn't as good at managing the finances of a city as my father. He had been force to reduce my bounty to a mere 10,000. That explains the recent lull in attacks. She was a pretty girl, but bore only a white sash from the Tethyrian School of Stealth. She must have been desperate to risk a trip all the way to Anauroch.

Another assassin attacked me today, another young girl. I think Abdul is trying to wear me down. Hoping that maybe I'll feel sympathy for one of them. Abdul is a bigger fool than I thought. I could never feel sympathy for someone who kills for money. No matter how young and innocent they may seem.

Kerim caused a bit of trouble today. He was practicing his summonings, but Tala accidentally brought him a more powerful spell than he thought. He was attempting to summon a small fire elemental to burn the refuse pile before we left the oasis. What he got was a large, angry efreeti. The efreeti knocked him across half the camp; it took Khalid hours to patch him up. Fortunately I wasn't far and was able to convince him not to level the camp. His name was Aziz; we spent about an hour talking before Kerim's spell lapsed.

Aziz is a lesser noble from the City of Brass, it actually turns out we're cousins, well half-cousins. My grandmother was his grandmother too. After his rage cooled down (figuratively speaking), and I promised that Kerim would never summon him again, he was actually a very skilled conversationalist.

Another assassin struck today. Abdul was scrying while this one struck. I was careful not to use my flames where he could see it. No need to let him know how much my powers have grown. It finally wasn't a young girl. He was a half-elf bearing a crimson sash from the School of Stealth. Abdul must have gotten the city's finances under control and upped my bounty. I'll have to kill the next one more slowly.

Barely a week and another attempt on my life, this time by a Shadow Sash. I wouldn't have survived if Khalid hadn't walked in when he did. He took an envenomed dagger, which had been meant for me, before I was able to incinerate the assassin.

I know not what venom was on the dagger. But all of our magics combined have failed to do more than slow it. The wound will not fully close and a strange illness spreads from it.

Constant magical aid has kept the sickness from spreading further, but we have been unable to reverse its spread by even an inch. Kerim and his master, Diyab, have exhausted their gen searching for a divinatory spell that will reveal the venom's cure. It does not look good. I wish I'd never come here. If I hadn't Khalid wouldn't now be dying. Perhaps I can torture a remedy from the next assassin.

Finally another assassin struck today. He wasn't from the school of stealth though, and had no knowledge of my master's ailment. The bounty on my head is back up to 35,000.

I was attacked by an azure sash today. I was able to capture him, and Diyab questioned him, at length, about the nature of Master Khalid's ailment. The news was not good. It is made by mixing the already potent, and diseased, venom of a Pit Fiend with a powerful enchantment and with raw negative energy. This treatment is designed to make both aspects of the venom more virulent.

Diyab has decided that there is only one possibility for us to save my master's life. Tomorrow he will attempt to summon Aziz; hopefully his power and my bargaining skills will be enough to compel a wish from my cousin.

It was difficult, but we were able to provide my cousin with sufficient incentives (including the soul of my latest would be assassin), to convince him to grant our request. Even Aziz's mighty power was insufficient to reverse the damage, but we have stopped the disease and he will grow no worse.

Khalid still smiles at me, I know he holds me no ill will, but I see the pain that is ever behind his eyes now. That pain will haunt me the rest of my days.

Someone again attempted to scry on me today; I plucked the sensor from the air before it was fully formed. I fear that perhaps I have become too lax in my vigilance. I only noticed the sensor by barest chance. How many times has Abdul spied upon me now without my knowledge? How much intelligence about our strengths and weaknesses has he given to my assassins?

Kerim and I are on a hunting excursion today. No assassins have struck since the one we offered to Aziz. Although Master Khalid's original illness has not returned, his broken body has made him more susceptible to other diseases. No matter how much he cures himself, there always seems to be more sickness.

I went out again with a hunting party today, Khalid's illness spreads. I fear he may not see the end of this year. We've ranged far from camp, near to the Shoals of Thirst. I write this by firelight; it's after midnight now. Just as this night fell we beheld a terrible sight. A vast city, that seemed chiseled from darkness glided out of the clouds in the southern sky. It does not travel quickly, and we have stopped to watch it. It drifts towards the north. We first beheld it at sundown, and even now it hangs over our heads. Caleb has howled out since it first appeared. My companions, I think, are more stunned than I. Many times did I see flying carpets in the palace of my father, and indeed I have seen a palace. So neither the idea of a city, or the idea of something kept aloft through powerful magic are foreign to my mind. But still, to see something so vast, a city which can easily hold the entire population of Memnon, gliding so easily above my head, is truly awe inspiring.

By dawn we had lost sight of the city, for it had vanished into a cloudbank to the north. Odd to see clouds over the land this time of year. We are breaking camp early to return to camp. Kerim and I must both consult with our masters about what this means.

We were ill prepared for what we found. The camp is in ruins; all the men have been slaughtered. The others think there is no sign of the women and children. I haven't the heart to tell them that they've been taken as slaves. We searched through the rubble and built a great pyre for the bodies. The think the mysterious city is to blame. But I know better; I found the mark of Abdul il'Shar carved deeply in my master's chest. We have agreed to sleep here for the night, and pursue the city with first light.

We traveled two days and two nights before we again caught sight of it, resting low over the Shoals of Thirst. Near the Scimitar Spire. We will camp here tonight, just within sight of the black citadel.

We awoke early this morning; the sun was barely up, yet we were still shrouded in the long shadow of the city. We awoke to the sound of water. It sounded like the waves that used to beat on the cliffs below my room when a great storm would come from the trackless sea. The others had never heard it's like. We stood and looked towards the city. A torrent of water poured from the black rock and into the long dried lakebed, the same lakebed in which we had made our camp.

The flood came almost before I realized it. Suddenly a great wave was descending upon it. We ran for our horses, abandoning our gear where it lay. The first wave crashed about us. I heard my friends being washed away. But fighting for my own life I couldn't save them. By the time I reached the shore, only three of us lived. Aasim - son of the late sheik, Kerim (with a thoroughly soaked Tala), Caleb, and myself.

After completing a divinatory spell, which it took Tala some time to fetch, Kerim informed us that the flood had not been an attack. Lacking alternatives, and filled with unhealthy levels of youthful curiosity and rage we chose to approach the city.

We never reached it. We were intercepted by a patrol of dusk skinned men more than a mile from it. They challenged us, and asked our business. Unfortunately, Aasim, believing they had killed his family, fired upon them before Kerim or myself could speak. They responded quickly, summoning the shadow of a great dragon to slay us for our impudence. It devoured Aasim before I was able to burn away the shadows.

The shades recognized my power, and, unlike Abdul, were able to deal with it. They quickly raised shields, which stood inviolate against my flames. They were careful to avoid fueling my powers with their magic. They attempted to capture me, and to kill Kerim. We fought back with all the magic we knew, but every one of them would have more than outclassed the both of us.

We escaped only by chance. Out of useful spells I had only one left, a simple orison for detecting the pathways used by the fey. To my delight I found one just within the surf of the newborn sea. Kerim, Tala, and I fled through it, not caring where it led.

We stepped out in a forest glade, peaceful enough for the time. I probed the backroad behind us and found it collapsed. Apparently the shadow-men didn't know the secrets and had slain the guardian of the opposing crossroad.

Kerim sent his tired gen out for one last spell, to mask us from any scrying eyes, which might seek us. I've found some food in this forest, easier than in the desert. We'll camp here the night.

I still haven't told him everything. We escaped but not before I felt one of the shades filter through my mind, while I was too distracted to fend off his spell. They know who I am, and they want my fire.

I awoke this morning to see a beautiful female eagle studying me. I've befriended her and named her Djinn. Kerim and I need all the help we can get.

I asked the guardian of this crossroads where we are. It seems were in the Elven wood of Cormanthyr, in the Dalelands.

For three turnings of the seasons I lived with the Bedine. I learned much from master Khalid. I learned the secret magic of the desert. I learned to tame the fires that burn in my blood. I learned the ways of the fey, and how to access walk their backroads across the world.

Kerim and I have traveled together since that day in Hammer. But today we said goodbye. The assassins have found me again, and I refuse to let my last friend be killed on my account. It tricked him at a crossroads, and sent him on a backroad to Zakhara. I made sure the guardians wouldn't let him back through. He's angry, he's already sent Tala to convey his... displeasure, twice; but I feel safer with him on another continent.

Kerim's sendings have dwindled in frequency. I now see Tala once a ten-day at most. Thankfully she has consented to not provide Kerim with any transportive magic that could bring him to me. The assassins have started working together; the bounty on my head must be quite high indeed. I'm currently on the run from a group of two (It was a group of three until we got a drop on them yesterday).

Caleb, Djinn, and I polished off the last of the current assassin's this morning. I just made it into town, a place called Highmoon in Deepingdale. I think it's the capital. Unfortunately I found a number of rather "shady" characters already in town looking for me. It would seem I've traded a death squad for a dissection squad. Not a big improvement. Especially given my track record with citizens of that infernal city.

I found a small inn yesterday, where the Shades (as the Dalelanders have come to call them, they call their black citadel the City of Shade) haven't yet inquired after me. Someone tried to scry on me today, I can only hope it was Abdul; I hope the Shades don't have enough information on me already to actively scry upon me. I'm sure they'd have already taken me if they did.

I destroyed the scrying sensor before if could fully form, and fled the inn just in case. I've heard that there is a small temple to Kossuth Firelord in the range of mountains called the Thunder Peaks. I hope that if I can reach it, the clergy there might protect one of their own against the Shades, for a time at least.

I've reached the Temple of Kossuth. They let me in easily and showed me about the place. It's only barely larger than my family's shrine in the palace, but it is built about a portal to the Plane of Fire. I should be safe here for a while.

The Shades don't seem to be able to locate me while I stay here, but Abdul's assassins have proven this place not so secure as I had hoped. This time there were 4. They snuck into the temple, and attacked me as I prayed over the portal. I was badly wounded, but managed to blast the lot of them into the portal, presumably none of them survived. As soon as I'm well enough I'm going to head north, towards Shadowdale. I've heard that the great wizard Elminster once helped another spellfire wielder. I only hope he'll agree to see me.

I never reached Shadowdale. I ran afoul of the Red Wizards of Thay on my way. I wasn't aware of the sovereign rights of their compounds, and they objected to the burning piles of human flesh (3 more assassins) I left in their Tilverton compound. I was arrested and taken back to Thay as a slave.

Ironically that turned out to be a stroke of good luck as I hear Tilverton was obliterated only a few days afterwards. We're near the border of Thay now. I've detected a crossroads just in the forest here, I intend to burn my way free tonight and run for that. I'll need to be careful though, the last thing I need is another nation of wizards hunting for me.

My escape almost went smoothly, I was almost caught twice. The first time, I managed to avoid detection by the grace of Kossuth. The second time it was necessary for me to destroy the guard. And unfortunately one of the Red Mages saw me. I fear I must now add another magocracy my list of pursuers. Luckily, by the time they raised the full alarm I was already on the backroad. It led me to Cormyr, it could've been worse, although it grows difficult to see how.

I was with some of what these northerners call "adventurers" in a tavern today. We overheard a bard telling tales of an ancient civilization in an area known as the Farsea Marshes. Somehow I have been convinced to accompany them in their pursuit for gold in the ruins of the ancient civilization.

We arrived in the marshes several days ago, we traveled west from Cormyr through High Horn pass, and we had little trouble with the local humanoids. So far the marshes have posed little danger, and little reward. Tonight we are camping near some strange ruins. They look to be built from glass as weak as my father's best china, yet the northern barbarian I travel with was not able to dent it with all his might.

We were attacked in the night while the barbarian stood watch. I was awakened by his scream. I caught only a glimpse of a humanoid figure standing over his still form before the battle was joined. My comrades and I succeeded in driving them off, whatever they were, but not before our Belius, a cleric of Lysander joined the barbarian in eternity.

The last few days have been a running battle as we seek to flee the swamp. The creatures which killed Belius and the barbarian have been attacking us at every opportunity. Our goals have changed from looting to simply surviving. We finally got better looks at our assailants. They're tall, light skinned humanoids. Their faces are very gaunt and they seem almost, if not totally, hairless. The wizard claims that they are known as skorne.

I've been captured. Those idiots I was with have apparently written me off. Caleb and Djinn both escaped. I can see Caleb hiding in the bushes from my cell; and I occasionally catch a glimpse of a lone eagle circling high overhead. At least not all my friends have abandoned me. I've only just regained consciousness, and I expended all of my inner flame in the battle for my life. The skorne gave me quite a beating. I can't understand a word they say.

Apparently my captors feel that I've recovered sufficiently to be put to work. Some of them do speak a bit of common, today I was ordered to clean their animal pens. I debated refusing, after all how dare such course beasts order the Prince of Memnon to clean their filthy stables. Discretion is often the better part of valor, however, and I must wait until I can rekindle my flames fully. Even with them escape will prove difficult.

I still wait for the right moment to escape. Everyday I search for a crossroad, apparently no one comes here. Even the strange ruins are devoid of portals. My fire is fully rekindled, but I fear even it will not be enough to free me from my slavery to these foul beasts.

My captors marched us north, into the Anauroch. They have more developed communities here, apparently the camps in the marshes are only there for the capture of adventurers, like myself, seeking to probe the ruins.

Another column of slaves was marched into the town today. More adventures drawn by tails of the treasures to be found in the ruins nodount. I can only hope this means they won't be able to watch me so closely. I, alone, might now be able to escape. Caleb and Djinn seem to be doing well enough. If not for their company I fear that I would have lost all hope.

No luck yet. The skorne are very good at keeping an eye on their prisoners. A slave attempted to escape this morning. Her headless body is dangling in front of the slave pens now, a silent warning to the power the skorne have over us.

I got in a fight with one of the newer slaves today, a warrior named Omar. He's become some sort of leader with the rest of the slaves. He speaks of revolt, and escape, but he speaks to openly for my tastes. I don't know why the skorne suffer his rebellious nature, unless he's a plant. I said as much today and received a severe beating for my words. If the other slaves are fools enough to follow him, than they deserve whatever should come to them.

The other slaves attempted a revolt, today. They failed when Omar betrayed them at a key moment. Fortunately their attempt lured the guards from my cell, and I was able to escape. My true friends and I have reunited, and together we are making our best possible time towards High Horn pass.

The skorne offered more pursuit than I would have expected over a single slave. I narrowly avoided them, maiming one of their commanding officers in the process. I only hope that Abdul never starts recruiting skorne assassins.

After I escaped the skorne, Abdul's assassins further delayed my journey. Apparently I failed to notice him scrying upon me during my slavery. There were three assassins awaiting me as I entered the pass. It took me a long two weeks to dispatch them. Today I arrived in Suzail, capital of Cormyr. It is my hope that here I might find the means, whatever they be, to reclaim my throne.

The assassins have reacquired my trail after my recent misadventures with the Red Wizards and the Skorne. I took out one this morning, but I think a few more are dogging my steps. I caught at least one figure lurking in the shadows as I finished off a crimson sash this morning.

It's been one year since I found Caleb. He's saved my life more times in that year than I ever could've imagined. And again today. He got a yellow sash's throat before I even knew I was being attacked.

I've been staying in Suzail for over two months now. The Shades have found me again. The local druid circle told me about a backroad that should lead me back to the Dalelands. From there I hope to make it back to the Temple of Kossuth before they track me down.

I made it to the temple this morning. I don't think any interested parties managed to track me here. So far as I know only Abdul even knows about this place. I'm just glad my adversaries aren't the sharing types.

I'm fully rested and have heard that there might be someone in Tasseldale who knows how to make people with political problems disappear (the non-lethal way). I plan to stop in Highmoon on the way and investigate his claim. Then head onto Tasseldale if it seems prudent.

No luck finding out one way or the other about what assistance I might find in Tasseldale. I'm going to press on and hope this isn't the biggest mistake of my life.

No luck in Tasseldale. Still here though. For my own protection I've hired on with a caravan bound beyond Cormyr, as a scout. They think I'm there to help them, but I really just want the safety of traveling a large group. I just hope my enemies don't slaughter them all.

Tala popped in today. She was in the process of fetching a mending spell for Kerim, and just wanted to see how I was. It was nice to see her; it's been 5 months since she last popped by. It's good to know I have at least one living friend.

The caravan was attacked by a large pack of wolves today. They were either very hungry or under some unnatural influence. I found it necessary to kill them all. I skinned them and burned the rest. I am going to make some hide armor from the pelts and sell it, with the rest of the pelts. Traveling with the caravan has given me an Idea. If I can't find safety, maybe I can buy it.

A few days ago it also proved necessary to slay some grigs. I regret the extreme prejudice with which my companions and I dismantled them. But what was in fact a harmless prank they wished to play on us, at first appeared an insane attack. I attempted to speak with them, but their words proved insufficient to assuage my fears. I, unfortunately, spared none of them. I believe that one of the ones attacking the poorly defended rear of the caravan may have escape though.

Some of the other caravan guards are quite odd. Of particular note is one Child of Calim named Jade; I believe it was he who allowed the grig to escape. He claims to be a scholar, but why would a scholar be guarding a caravan through dangerous territory? I understand that money is tight this far from the civilized lands of the south. And I admit that his skills in combat have thus far supported his cover story (for such I presume it to be), there's just something about the shifty nature of his eyes that reminds me of the many assassins I've been forced to execute. I must keep a careful watch on him. He claims to be from the Nelanther Isles, and his accent certainly supports the claim, but it could just be a rouse. Perhaps Abdul has finally realized the nature of my inner flame and now wants me taken alive. No, I'll not be taking my eyes off this "scholar".

There is a gnomish wizardess named Tamasin. Her manner of speaking reminds me rather too much of the Red Wizards who enslaved me briefly. And I think I may have caught sight of a bit of red cloth in her back. Although from what I hear a gnomish Red Wizard would be quite an oddity, her spellcasting manner so resembles their's that I cannot afford to discount the possibility. I'll be watching her as closely as I watch Jade. I will not be taken alive.

Other oddities amongst the guards include: an aasimar who serves Torm, named Tymmiah Trueblood; his twin brother Jimmiah, a tiefling cleric of Finder Wyvernspur. They, and the scholar, pass much of their time with Tamasin, which does little to assuage my fears of the gnome and genasi, and much to generate fears of the others, and of the merchant, Ativa, who spends so much time with both.

The caravan made a stopover in a small town less than a day from Arabel while we were in the inn and a traveling merchant burst in screaming about some horrible creatures that had just assailed him on the road and kidnapped his son, Lucente. He offered a "handsome reward" for his son's safe return, so I and those others I have mentioned decided to embark on a search for his son.

We located the merchant's son with some ease. He had been polymorphed into a mite by an odd amulet, which I now have in my possession. Jimmiah healed him (we mistook him for one of the mites that had kidnapped him) and we returned him to his father for our rewards (500 gold each). Oddly as we departed the mite's keep it exploded, through no agency of ours. Unfortunately there was not enough time to investigate.

When we finally rejoined the caravan I discovered a gray dwarf, named Plaver, wandering about. Gunner, the same man who hired me, rescued him from a mob intent on stoning him last night. I've never before seen a gray dwarf, although I have heard many tails of their evil. Tymmiah doesn't seem overly troubled by the dwarf though, and it is my understanding that paladins are able to detect the taint that evil leaves upon one's soul.

An assassin struck today, a very clever one. I was browsing Arabel's stores searching for exotic animals. I happened around a corner and found a store that at first glance was perfect. The assassin had used powerful illusion magic to make a vacant store seem a shop with a vast menagerie of creatures, all carefully tailored to my tastes. I inquired after the stock of serpents. He indicated that he had a dire anaconda in his possession; intrigued I inquired about the price and asked to view the specimen. He requested to see my gold before allowing me to examine it, and so I allowed him to see my bag, still full from the rescue of the merchant's son. He then led me into the back, towards what I assumed to be the snake's pen.

As I stepped forward to examine the dire anaconda I caught a glimpse of steel from the corner of my eye. I tried to roll and unleash a tongue of flame at my unseen assailant, but dropped to slowly. I felt the blade bite deeply into my back, and was caught totally unready to absorb the energy of the poison spell. I felt its power wash through me, and then a strange thing happened. I felt my body weaken. I felt my flames go wild, erupting from my greatly weakened form. The resulting blast killed my assailant, destroyed the stone building in which he had set his snare, and injured many of those in the nearby buildings. The town guards questioned me at some length, however my own actions in healing the bystanders, and Tymmiah's word were sufficient to convince them that I had committed no crime and was no threat. I returned to the caravan with all possible haste.

Before my shopping was so rudely interrupted I successfully purchased an excellent warhorse from a merchant more concerned with getting his money than taking my life. She is a fine black mare; her name is Mystique.

Tonight we reached the entrance to High Horn pass. Tonight we sleep in the safety of the fort, tomorrow we cross the pass. Half the caravan is disembarking at here. So tomorrow there will only be half as many guards. Tamasin, Ativa, Jade, Plaver, Jimmiah, and Tymmiah are all continuing with the caravan, though. I don't know if that's good or bad.

The first part of the journey through the pass was pleasantly quiet. As the afternoon wore on, however, we were first attacked by a pair of shadows. They waited until almost all of the guards had passed and then leapt to attack the merchant and Tamasin. In the first seconds of battle the gnome was rendered nearly incapable of movement by the undead's their chilling touch. Plaver rode back and helped her to her feet even as the shadows pressed their advantage. It's nice to see the short-ones sticking together. I hope that's all it is. His willingness to aid a Red Wizard disturbs me.

Then, as evening began, we were again attacked. This it was 3 goblins and their worg companions. The goblins died quickly, the worgs were somewhat more of a challenge, but my animal companions and I easily dispatched one, Tymmiah also made short work of his. The merchant, mage, and gray dwarf had a bit more difficulty with theirs, but Tymmiah finished the worg for them.

We have arrived in Corvis, we were accosted by a number of swamp goobers just before we reached the city. They killed many of the guards, and very nearly made away with a sizeable quantity of our goods. When we at last arrived Gunner arranged for those who survived to be healed by one Father Dumas, an aging priest of Ilmater. Father Dumas then proceeded to charge the paladin with the investigation a number of recent grave robberies. I'm not sure why, or how, but I've somehow been roped into this with him and some of the other guards. Father Dumas has agreed to provide us with healing, as his is a poor order and can provide us with no money. Why am I doing this?

We are also to be accompanied by a cleric of the Lady of Mysteries, named Gibraltar. He might be able to aid me with knowledge of my fires, after all there are those who say that such fires come from his goddess, though I find those claims spurious at best. Or he might seek to control my flames for his own use; I must take what information I can from him, without letting him know of my talent.

I've noticed that there is a strange sensation across this entire city. It is almost as if some being is scrying from a great distance; the magic is not focused on me, but it is definitely there. Still, I need to take steps to ensure my safety. I'm going to use the amulet I took off the boy we rescued from the mites to disguise myself as a human. I only hope this entry in my journal will serve to remind me of my true nature.

The words I recorded in my journal last night seem to be the rantings of a tired mind. Still, I do now wear the amulet. Yet, as I understand its enchantment, had another human put it on me, or had I put it on myself I would not transform.

Last night Ativa and I gathered information about the situation at an inn. I asked about the reason Corvis is known as the City of Ghosts. Everyone in this town believes they have seen at least one ghost, from those haunting the waterways to those who settled Corvis. Ghosts are seen more often nearer the water level, there are subterranean and subaquatic levels. The city is still sinking slowly, new levels are constructed above to replace the volume lost to the murky waters.

Beyond the city lurk undead known as shamblers. Anyone who dies in the marshes or woods around the city comes back as a shambler. A zombie-like undead able to reproduce its kind by taking the lives of others.

The inhabitants also have legends of a draconic creature. They do call it a dragon, but there description of it sounds far too small to be a true dragon. The beast is known as Voorhiey, the great serpent of the swamp. It has been related to livestock disappearances and to chilling screams heard in the night. The legends say that it guards a rich gold mine found by a long dead miner.

Ativa and I spent yesterday sleeping, preparing to survey the eastern cemetery after nightfall. My sleep was interrupted during late afternoon as a human burst into my room, fearing an assassin I reacted on instinct and struck with a simple casting of handfire. I struck my opponent a solid blow, only afterwards discovering that it was Jade in disguise.

Still wary of trickery, or the possibility that Jade himself is to be my assassin I backed away, but maintained my spell. He explained that he was fleeing some people, I asked what people and he informed me that they were thieves. Something about the way he said it led me to question him further. As I had somewhat suspected, he is a thief himself. Apparently the local thieves' guild caught him practicing his trade without their permission and pursued him. I mended his wounds, both those inflicted by myself and the guild.

I allowed him to sleep in my room, for his own safety, and returned to sleep myself. I left Caleb to watch him, trusting his keen senses to protect me incase Jade's story was merely a clever ruse. As night fell I awoke, Caleb and I left Jade, his dog, and Djinn in the room so that we could journey to the cemetery with Ativa.

We did not catch the grave robbers at the cemetery, but did have a pressed battle with several giant ants, three winged queens; quite an odd thing to encounter three young queens together, without any retainers. It would seem that there are many odd things about this city. Caleb was badly injured in the battle, and I exhausted most of my spellfire reserves, I hope nothing violent happens for a few days. Ativa and I checked the northern cemetery on our way back to our accommodations, nothing seemed to have been disturbed. I returned to find both Jade and his dog slumbering deeply, he obviously knows little about surviving with assassins on his tail.

Jade is still disguised as a human, he is now going by the name Herbert. The disguise doesn't seem particularly effective to me, but Tymmiah and the gnome seem to have been totally fooled by it. Abdul attempted to scry on me again today, for some reason he seemed to be having great difficulty focusing on me, I have no idea why he should have difficulty finding me now.

Jimmiah disappeared before dawn, Tymmiah went to look for him, and I wonder if we'll ever see either again. I do hope Tymmiah returns; traveling with a paladin does offer a certain amount of protection to which I have become rather accustomed now.

We began our investigation by again checking the northern cemetery, where we encountered the captain of the guard. He was unable to provide us with any new information. Following that we journeyed to two of the outlying farms, which had both had graves disturbed. Between the farms we were waylaid by brigands, they seemed focused on Herbert. His 'friends' from the local guild no doubt.

At the farms we discovered that all of the unearthed people were jurors at a large witch trial held some years back. Tymmiah met us at the second farm, no sign of his brother though. After returning to Corvis we attempted to further investigate the deceased coven. We were unable to attain entry to the local wizard's guild, so we decided to ask around in the more mystic portion of the local market, and discovered no solid facts. Father Dumas let us know that the only descendant to the coven members was his own niece, Alexia. But clearly the niece of the good father couldn't be involved in this foul business.

This morning we set out to explore the tomb where the witches were buried after their execution. There was a fire pit which showed signs of having been recently used, however I surmise that the swamp goobers we found infesting the dungeon were the ones using it. The witches tombs were empty, and a goober I charmed spoke of some sort of 'dark lady' who came and animated them, she also left a trio of skeletons behind to protect the tomb from snoops like us, but they were quite easily dispatched.

We returned to the city and after a brief nap began a stake out of the last juror's grave. A woman in white approached the grave well after nightfall, and began a necromantic ritual obviously intended to animate the corpse. I surprised her and she blasted me with magic missiles before taking flight. I pursued her into a dungeon beneath the bridge nearest the cemetery.

I pursued her through a large and twisting complex, only barely able to keep up. Unfortunately I plunged through a curtain and into a powerful hold trap. I was only barely able to absorb its power, but the spell continued assaulting me. I blasted the woman in white, who had stopped on the far side of the room to watch, but was then caught by the hold rune. She seemed surprised at my ability to resist the rune, and at my fires, but apparently has some knowledge of spellfire and was not long off guard. I heard the curtain part again behind me and was aware of Tymmiah entering the area of the rune. I examined the woman, and recognized her as Alexia, apparently the good father's niece isn't so innocent.

My inner fire allowed me to cross the room, slowly, by absorbing the power and releasing it in frequent blasts. Unfortunately I fear that now both Tymmiah and Ativa know of my power. I doubt the paladin fully fathoms what he saw, but I know the bard does. Once free of the glyph I attempted to pursue Alexia, but she was waiting for me with a sleep spell. I awakened to find no trace of her, except the trap door she presumably used which led into the temple. I returned to find Tymmiah and Ativa attempting to cross the glyph with some odd rope system they cooked up. I crossed the room, finally shorting out the glyph in the process.

Then I returned to the temple to attempt and convince Father Dumas of his niece's guilt (with no success) while the others completed looting the catacombs.

Having failed to convince Father Dumas, we again investigated the magic shops to see if Alexia had been shopping for spell-components. We also had a rune analyzed which they had found in the dungeon, it seems to be the means by which Alexia has been raising the dead to her service. If I could discover the secrets of this magic and use them for myself I might be able to finally defeat that bastard Abdul.

While we were in the market I sensed an odd force scrying on us, well on me actually. Certainly not Abdul, or any other force I recognized. The power being used was neither arcane, divine, or of anything else I have ever seen. A strange man, a hairy sendasti, approached us while Tamasin and I were attempting to examine the odd sensor. He also seemed able to detect it. I have never seen a sendasti with hair before, and there seems to be something of an odd energy about him.

That evening we attended a performance Ativa was holding at a local tavern, and the captain of the guard approached us, seeking our aid in investigating some odd occurrences, and missing men, at Fort Rhyker, to the northwest of Corvis.

We left early this morning to investigate Fort Rhyker. We found a number of undead digging in the fields surrounding it, mostly skeletons which were dispatched easily enough. I took an enruned skull from one of the more advanced ones. These creations may be able to provide me with the power I need to reclaim Memnon from that bastard. The sendasti has displayed some off abilities, similar to the telekinetic abilities sometimes displayed by wizards, I wouldn't bother to note this, but there's something so odd about him.

We discovered an army of these... undead thralls being assembled within the temple. We attempted to sneak past the army, I found that assuming the form of a leopard was of great aid. Upon exiting Tymmiah was stolen from us by a witch hiding in a tree. The rest of us returned to Corvis. In the paladin's absence I finally took the opportunity to destroy that bitch of a spy who's been hiding amongst us. The Red Wizard Tamasin will not trouble us anymore, if it hadn't been for the paladin's presence I wouldn't have tolerated her presence this long.

Jade knows what I did, I told Ativa that it was Alexia's cohorts who killed Tamasin. The city was being attacked, so we chose to take the distraction to loot a wealthy house that Jade, or Jones as I think he's calling himself today, thinks may have plenty of valuables. On the way to the house I encountered Tymmiah leading Alexia's army, the precise compulsion she placed on him is beyond my knowledge, but demonstrates the threat she poses to me more than ever.

The mansion was guarded by a number of winter wolves, these posed some problem to the others but after a slight misunderstanding seemed content enough to leave me alone. One of them, a large one named Mephisto, has even agreed to turn against his masters and travel with me.

The house was heavily guarded within, Jade was almost killed by an Invisible Stalker and a number of steam jacks provided added protection, we were able to secure a number of valuables, including a tapestry depicting the Fire Caves of Memnon, we escaped the guards through a fey crossroads, but the guardian was rather irate and dumped us into the Astral Plane.

We were able to return to the church, where Tymmiah was freed of his compulsion. Alexia succeeded in getting the blade she desired, and teleporting away. As I write this we are camped some distance from the city and will be traveling further from it tomorrow.

Tymmiah is feeling very penitent about his actions. We've been traveling northwards, we're spending tonight in a small village dedicated to Chauntea. I have asked Sin of his odd powers, and he has explained them to me. He calls upon an energy field which he calls The Force. It seems a logical extension of what Khalid taught me so long ago, not just the magic of nature but the magic of all life. I have spent time in meditation, attempting to more completely fathom this concept.

During the night the town in which we rested was attacked by thieves. We defeated them and tracked them back to their camp. They were led by a cleric of Bane, he was little harder to kill than his minions. The grateful townsfolk actually through a feast in our honor. We procured Potions of Recall which we used to return to Tegal's Mark in the Dalelands, where we first met long ago.

The city was aflame, the Red Wizards had thankfully abandoned their enclave. We found the town conquered by a demoness, Tymmiah engaged her and battle and slew her, only to discover that it was his mother. Her unwholesome blood seared through the ground and opened a rift between worlds. Sin and Tymmiah fell through, I followed of my own will. In the land below the paladin was tried by an infernal court for murdering his mother.

Apparently the god Cyric was using the trial as a ruse to corrupt Tymmiah from his puritanical ideals. I don't know whether any of what we have seen within this city was truth, although I think Cyric would go to such extremes for the sake of corrupting one of Torm's chosen. In any case Cyric's deception has worked, Tymmiah has turned his back upon all that he once found pure.

When we returned from Hell, and a brief battle with some devil's angry at being used in Cyric's ploy, I must admit that even I felt an unearthly rage burning within. What we did to the few survivors of that town was... rather grotesque. Even here I will not describe the debased acts which we performed, I will simply say that they made my childhood days in my father's palace seem quite tame by comparison.

We will journey to Essembra, in Battledale to pawn the loot we have gathered in the last days.

We reached Essembra without incident, Tymmiah seems to have taken to his new divine calling with a particularly disturbing zeal. We've been in town for nearly a ten-day now, Sin and Jade desired to have enchantments placed upon some of their equipment. Tomorrow we will be leaving for Myth Drannor, and hopefully the keys to overthrowing Abdul.

Are trek was interrupted by a band of warriors lead by a well-experienced wizard. With some difficulty we were able to overcome them. Several were taken alive, and I almost pity them for the torturous deaths that Jade forced them to endure.

We tracked the party back to a tower, and through the depths of that tower to a portal. We passed through the portal (leaving our goods secured within the tower that we couldn't bring with us) and found ourselves in a lost shrine of Mystra. By the magic that practically buzzes in the air, I gather we have reached our goal.

We have indeed reached Myth Drannor, that wretched gnome we met confirmed that much. I've been taken prisoner by the Cult of the Dragon, while attempting to rescue his brother, and a fair share of loot, from this a tower. This city is literally crawling with dragon cultists, searching for something. An item of great power.

Those bastards I've been traveling with have apparently decided to let me rot in here. I suppose that's what I get for letting myself trust someone.

I've lost track of days in my confinement. I've been spending my time meditating upon this 'force' of which Sin has taught me. I can feel it moving, even here. I can sense the pettiness of these guards, can see the simple cruelty and greed that seems to fill their souls. I can also feel the hopelessness of the other prisoners, it washes over me in waves as I meditate.

Today an army of Tormish paladins liberated us. I never thought I could be so happy to see a Tormite. Their rescue of myself and the other prisoners seems incidental to their primary goal; the hunt for Tymmiah, apparently they don't take well to defection. I almost offered to lead them to him, especially since he left me here, but they offer no reward and I might still find a use for the fallen paladin.

I allowed my new senses to take them in, they seem to practically radiate the energy that Sin referred to as the Light Side. I can feel their minds, feel the peace within them. I cannot see their thoughts, but their feelings stand open to me. I can feel the point of outrage in their souls as they speak of the rogue they hunt. Their outrage is a gaping wound in their purity.

Minds so accustomed to tranquility as theirs offer little resistance to the seed of rage which Tymmiah's betrayal has now planted within them. They'd best guard themselves or become worse then what they hunt.

I had but to walk a short distance from the city before Mephisto found me, he's grown rather plump from the local prey. The path my one-time companions took is obvious, traveling down a phenomenon known as Moander's Road (apparently named for some now-dead god). They travel on foot, mostly, so Mephisto and I should be able to catch them easily enough.

I've followed them for two days, Mephisto's been pushing himself hard. He is a good and loyal friend, unlike those who abandoned me. He says it does not hurt, but I feel the pain within his muscles. I feel this force everywhere now, it is as Sin said it comes from all of nature. Which means he is wrong in his interpretation of it as having a light side and a dark side. It must have these things, even as the beasts of the forest do. But I find that too assume either is greater than the other is a folly.

The Force must also have a flaming side, a wet side, a solid side, and a windy side. The Force is the natural balance that exists between all things, it includes aspects and reflections of all things. One can choose to focus on some of those elements, but that seems wasteful, why have half a pie when you can have it all?

I found them just as the sunset, about to be beset by a pair of nightwings. They have... changed. A darkness is about them. Jade is no longer the Djinni-kin he once was, his connection to the winds has grown, and I sense the presence of Sin's 'Dark Side' raging within him.

While one nightwing posed a challenge for the rest of us, Jade dispatched the other in near single combat. I wish I knew what means he has used to grow closer to his element. However in my absence the party seems to have fallen even deeper into debauchery.

Jade now speaks of debasing his elemental purity with the disease of undeath. The Mark of Loviatar is upon him. And worse yet, he and once-noble Tymmiah want to blot out the sun. The very idea is obscene. Without the sun there can be no life, and the balance would be destroyed. As with the force, to live in eternal light is to be blinded, but to live in eternal darkness is to whither and die.

Ativa seems little worse for wear, but the others seem full of rage. Even Sin has fallen to his own 'Dark Side'. But from where does all this rage come from? Of us all I have the most reason to be consumed by hatred, but to give into it like they have is foolish.

Rage, hatred, vengeance, these are powerful emotions and when properly controlled, in balance with nature can be truly awesome, but they have become blind to the fact that their uncontrolled rage is devouring their souls. The assumption of these Jedi, of which Sin once spoke, that these emotions are somehow of the Dark Side is erroneous. A mother bear protecting her young is full of rage, yet her cause could not be more just.

Perfect serenity is an awful state, without emotion there is no reason to do anything, yet I fear that my companions have given themselves entirely to the Dark Side, they let it rule their every action now.

I do not think I wish to travel with this group any longer, no matter how powerful they may be they are far too dangerous for me to use against Abdul. It would be like trying to use a great sword to remove a leech. I find, however, that leaving their company may be more disastrous for the world. I must then follow them, and delay my vengeance even longer, for to unleash them upon the world would be disastrous to the balance. I must find a way to either hurry the consumption of their souls or guide them to the path of balance.

Sin has displayed an aptitude for a number of sorcerous acts through the Force. I have already learned how to perceive this energy field, I shall place my research into my flames on hold now, for a time. Perhaps I might be able to replicate some of them, or develop some tricks of my own. I need to meditate now, and see what tomorrow brings.

I spent the night in a meditation upon the Force. There is a great rage within me, though this comes as little surprise. One day Abdul il'Shar will taste the flames of my rage. Within myself I find many wells of fire. There are the fires of my rage, the fires that surge through my blood, the fire of my soul, and there are the flames of my life force. An inferno that I now see is common to all living creatures.

I have practiced the whole night, and have found two capacities within myself. I can cause my flames to devour other energies at a distance, much like how my flames are able to devour magic. However, I cannot hold these flames. It seems that once the inferno is released from my blood it cannot be returned.

Also, I have found that, with some concentration, I can draw my flames out, and shape them so that images can dance before my eyes, to ensure that I was not deceiving myself I made certain that Mephisto could behold these phantasmagorical images as well.

It seems strange to me that I should learn to do such things so quickly, but I find that as I meditate upon the Force, upon the Flames within, that I can almost hear voices calling out, nudging me along. The others will awaken soon, I wonder what today will bring.