Someone once asked me (possibly before I ended their life), "What do you want ( Read more... )

I have realized yet again that there can be no narrative within the course of the pages, for I can only tell what has happened, not what is or will be happening. This causes some frustration in me, as the life of an immortal is filled with tedium ( Read more... )

I am a statue in the cave of my youth ( Read more... )

The lichen is edible, and mildly hallucinogenic. It tastes like gravel, and leaves a sticky residue that glows faintly on your mouth, fingers, and clothing. In the wrong light, you could be mistaken for a ghoul ( Read more... )

It's a small, dank cavern. Lichen glows a faint greenish hue in the pitch blackness. The walls are slick, and gleam slightly in the pale light. Something drips in the distance into a stagnant pool ( Read more... )

I feel an apology is in order. (Not that I should ever do so, since I am a heartless master of the arcane. Though a small pang of remorse every now and then can't hurt ( Read more... )

And another thing ( Read more... )

I realize that some amount of suspense is lost due to the nature of this journal. The fact that I am writing it now means that I survived whatever story I tell, regardless of how high the odds were stacked against me.

Though I’d like to point out that an army versus myself isn’t fair.

For them.

Before I stepped out of the transdimensional portal, I activated a couple runes of divination and scanned the area. I always spend some time scouting in the ethereal plane, just in case someone is waiting for my grand entrance. I was generally certain that the area two miles away from Number Three would not contain any sort of magical trap ( Read more... )

Teleportation, once you get past the initial queasiness, is quite enjoyable ( Read more... )