The creature has cast again. Another creature. Should've slain it at once, soon as I knew. No working power. Why am I not granted a male descendant? What've I done to deserve that?

Will slay the next creature. Keeping this one long as need to. Should someone want it they can have it. No matter what the reasons. No use for another creature.

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Creature's dead. The old one. Impractical, really. On the other hand one mouth less. Not taking a new one. One more here. Should change that.

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Peace, at last. Last creature gone. One in Lordaeron with Ogden. Bloody poisoners. All smug about it, thinks he's something better. Can do what he wants with her. Might need her for experiments. Wouldn't be much of a loss. I'll add to the piece of gold somehow.

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Should have kept the older creature. Was quite useful after all. Pointless. Need gold.

Got Gold. Not much, but at least a bit. Bloke I got it from won't need it no longer.

Ogden in Lordaeron turning younger creature into poisoner. Doesn't deserve it. Best she gathers poisons for him and chokes on the fumes. Might as well poison the faithless creature, too. Agamand says she keeps visiting her disgusting sister. Having problems. Serves her well.

If anyone knew But no one does know, and no one will. Ever.

If I could be certain that no one can lay their fingers on this … But how do I make certain? Agamand?

Oh beautiful Lordaeron, what have you turned me into? What I once was, I despise, what I've created will descend upon me as soon as the power inherent in it comes to the light. Or is there any way I can escape my own curse? Have I been wrong? Maybe my error doesn't have the dreadful consequence I foresaw after all. Or maybe some ill-fated demon is waiting for the best moment to break forth, to send the creatures, united in their wrath, after me. They are separated now, but they are seeing each other. They are my nemesis. And I made them that.

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Got to sell a plot. Last lot outside Brill.

Damn, should have taken more than one gold from the poisoner. But he'll reap the rewards in the end. Everyone does. Just like Magor Gaunt.

Agamand's cast an eye on the lot. Directly next to his grounds. Not gonna cheat his old friend Magor. How much to ask?

Agamand gave me 100 gold and a better horse. Maybe all getting better now. Going to leave Brill for a while. Maybe I can Don't get your hopes up, Magor.

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Worse than Brill here. Only trees. And creatures out of hell. Killed my horse. Thought I'm done, but they're wrong. Now they think I got to be grateful. They're wrong. Should've let me die. Better for me.

Must go back. Cannot leave the house this long. Also got the long-ears on my heels.

Nearly got caught today. Hiding so well I cannot find them. Maybe I could First, you can't, second, they're not forcing me to become what I was.

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I'm back and got a feeling something's not right here. Something's happening, and this time it isn't my fault.

Damn them all, I thought I could deny who I was, but if I want to know what is going on, I've got to talk to the apothecaries. In cases of doubt we they were always the first to know something.

They know nothing. Or aren't saying. Like I couldn't Magor, you've got to forget who you were. Your past's going to catch up soon enough as is.

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Who's he thinking he is? Does he think his scribbling will make me talk? Does he think I'm that naïve? Like he wouldn't send all the authorities after me and encourage Faranell to start a crusade against me? My friend you call yourself? You're an animal.

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Greetings, my friend Magor!

I heard you were out of town for a time, and I am certain that you noticed the problem we are facing at once when you returned. I do not wish to torture you, but I need your help - Lordaeron needs your help!

We need every shrewd head if we want to stand a chance. Something is burdening you, made you retreat from us. The others may accept that, but I shall not ignore who you truly are.

The formula enclosed to this letter - as if I need to tell you this - will produce an elixir to give you the strength to talk to me. I tried it on myself, it works wonders. No matter what it is you need to venture doing, no matter how hard to give voice to your worries, it will come easily because your fear will be swept away. But be careful not to give up all caution!

I swear to you, I shall not betray you, no matter what you've done. We were friends once, and we are still colleagues, even if you are trying to deny it. You have not lost your talent. I beg you, dedicate it to our craft one last time, or we shall all perish!

I await your response,

Bohannon

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Damn, if I want to know what's going on I need to join Ogden and his followers. Something bad is in the air, that much is certain. People are getting sick, dying, and vanish without a trace. And no one's telling me what's happening. Maybe Ogden will. I'll write to him. Tell him I cannot promise anything so long as I don't know the score.

This is hilarious. Undead. As though it makes a difference for me. They're twice accursed, Magor.

Wrote to Ogden again. Must be ready to flee if he hands my letter to the authorities. If not I'll return to the apothecaries. Keeping the draft letter just in case.

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Very well. The whole truth, Bohannon: I made a mistake, the sort you cannot ever make. We all know experiments can fail. Many test new formulae on themselves, but I've never done that. I paid peasants in Brill for their help. As you know, I had financial difficulties. So I tried a potion on one of the creatures Aetheldra had just born. It was so small I assumed it would die after three days anyway. When I didn't see any results I tried the potion on the elder as well. Again, with no result. It should have been strengthening, but Modgud remained weak. Merope had more strength to begin with and was at least a little useful, but the great improvement didn't come. Only then I found the fatal error: I had used gloom weed and kingsblood in the same potion, a normally fatal cocktail. But there was peacebloom as well among other ingredients, and that altered the effect. A child receiving this potion will undergo a change once reaching adulthood. It will receive strength from the gloom weed, but because of the kingsblood it will not be physical strength. The child will be transformed into a mage. And one day my daughters' power will be great enough to destroy Magor Gaunt. All that you can find in my diary, which I will leave in a safe place before I die.

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I hardly believe it. Ogden didn't betray me. They really must be desperate. If this didn't affect myself as well they could forget it. I am not yet ill, but it can only be a matter of time.

Ogden is lost. Tried his potion on himself. Seems like it was a waste of time.

Some people fleeing south, I'll go with them. Agamand is ill, he'll stay and keep my diary. Those that die here won't do much reading. The younger of the sisters is ill, at least Ogden said so. Told me I shouldn't run but help her. Funny bloke. Choose death for myself? No. And the elder is far enough away but always around her sister. Who knows, maybe she'll get it, too. At least they'll leave me alone.