This book at first appears to be clean and well taken care of. There is a slight line of yellow along the edges of each page, and the front cover, being unmarked, is a plain, black leather. Bound by horse glue and string, it also smells slightly of perfume. More ominous, however, are the spots of blood on the pages as you flip through, and a definite red mark on the back where the book appears highly worn in a single spot to the point that it has pierced the cover, and started wearing on the final page. Also, if you were to look closely at the right margin on the back of the book, is a phrase written and scratched out multiple times, leaving it barely readable. Some letters are even completely unintelligible. It says, to the best that you can discern, "Exxlxxxxxxxtx." On the inside cover: "Okay Kat, this one's for you. - [... the name is an unreadable signatuure.]" The First Page: "The Journal of Kathryn Duvanté, by none other; an account of everything that has transpired to this point, since I have kept this journal. Let it be a lesson to those who find it a valuable story, or a valuable story to those not seeking lessons. I, however, do not intend for either to happen. This journal is merely for record keeping, and as I find myself often needing to write things down, I have decided to do so with this old book, one still special to me, and the only deserving of my writing. ... Dedicated to Emilia." The next few pages are blank, as it appears they have been soiled with dirt and crumpled, the writer apparently not wanting to deal with the task of cleaning them. Page Five: Thus begins the journal! I'm so excited to finally be keeping an account of things; maybe someday this will prove useful! Every time something happens, it seems like I'm the one catching the blame because I forget. Let that be a lesson to those that would never take things down. Today, to get on with business, was exciting. Neverwinter is just recovering from the plagues and political scandals of the past months, and I found the atmosphere very encouraging. I myself was not around for the battle, but had I been, I would have given those anti-heroes the what's what! No one goes out there and cuts up a town and can expect to get away with it. Which brings me to my first important point in this journal. ... [The rest of this page is torn out. Apparently the author found use for this information later on.] Page Six: Dear Diary, Oh, how I love the sound of that. Forgive me father for forgetting the laws of indentation, but placement of letters is not so important to me as the meanings they convey. Schooling... well, I'll not get into that. I came along some castle on my way through this new land I've been exploring. I'm sure this road has been well traveled, as it is, after all, a road. Roads don't often lead to places no one has been before. Anyway. I went inside, and there was this man named "Rhalum" sitting at the throne, with an apparent throng of subjects standing about in his grace. I stood for a moment, listening to the politics of the group, before an insane man, apparently a subject that had lost his mind, raced towards Rhalum and attacked him with his bare hands, only to be brutally slain by the female guard of Rhalum's right-hand side. Astonished, I stepped forward, questioning the ethics of a man who would destroy such a man rather than give him time to straighten his head of whatever ailed his head in the dungeon. Rhalum laughed, and a moment later, the whole room was laughing. And when it stopped, Rhalum found amusing irony in pinning me with the crime of attempted assassination and treason... and sent me to the dungeon! As a guard was conscripted to escort me there, I had no intention of resisting. ... yet. Page Seven: Once 'comfortably' in my cell, I struck up a light conversation with the guard. I originally sought to gain his trust and slay him when he came close to the bars, and take his key. But that plan disintegrated when Belad, as I learned his name was, began to speak of his past - lightly - and some more about him - also lightly. That was all well, and I soon began to find myself strangely attracted to him. Not in a sexual way of course, just ... I knew that he would be a friend to me. Someone that wouldn't lie! And of course, that was a Godsend at this point, since everything I knew wasn't even anything! However, before I could learn much more about him, there was some kind of uprising, and Belad ran to assist upstairs. ... the silly fool never locked the door, so I slipped out, and away from the castle. That's all for today. [-undated] Huh. Well, it's another day. I decided to head back in the direction of Rhalum to check things out. Lo and behold, there stands Belad at the gates, or rather, on the wall at the gates, calling for me to halt. Of course, as soon as he sees me, his perception of me changes, and the sarcasm returns. Not that I don't mind it; I like him. ... anyway. I stayed around to help the poor guy out; seems he got stuck with guard duty too often for him to cope with. After a few interesting hours with him though, I was on my way again... Page Eight: Well. Today I came across a place known as "Akylie's Tavern". I can't say I like it all that much, but the people seem very... divergent in their makeup. There was a fairly short man there, claiming to be named "Feris". I claimed that there was something wrong with his head, and of course the little bugger had to find fault in that. Outside he went, and the group followed. Turns out the little one planted traps outside for us, just waiting for someone to step on one. I happened to be the only unlucky person to do so, and I won't lie - it hurt like you wouldn't believe. However, the group and I quickly dispatched Feris to the underworld. He will not be bothering us again. [-undated] Hello again! This is amusing. Apparently the short one known as Feris has dispatched assassins for me. At least one of them was apparently paid upwards of a million gold pieces. ... this can be nothing but bad for me. I've been talking more with Belad, and I'm thinking about joining this group of his, with Jevvica Nor and Mia Helton, for some sort of protection. Apparently I qualify for some sort - [A large number of pages are torn out, here. This book isn't in as good of condition as it first appeared, it seems. The writing picks back up directly on the other side, the page number identified only recently.] Page Forty-Two: [There are smears of blood, water, and ink all over this page, but a majority of the words are still legible, so you can make out the meaning.] I met with Jevvica downstairs today in the library. We spoke for a while. I can't say I was surprised at what she said, and I can't be angry at her... so I've decided to go along with it. It's not like I have anything else to do... Anywhere else to go! If only - [The words here are absolutely gone, as if they were purposely smeared with the blood that covers them. Attempting to scratch away the blood would likely ruin the inking. The entry continues about an inch or so down from the large smear.] -er. Pylia. ... Pylia. I don't know what I'm going to do about Pylia. Maybe kill her. And Mira too. Then I wouldn't have any problems., Then Jevvica would stay with me, and there wouldn't be any problems. She would forget. Forget all about Pylia and Mira, because they're nothing. They're useless. Who needs a Pylia or a Mira? No one, that's who. No one can have Jevvica but me. Pylia and Mira can die. [The word 'die' is written numerous times on the margin in messy inking. ... but there's something strange about the ink, though it came from a calligraphy pen. It's messy, and doesn't appear to gather right at the tips, like the ink were gummy. The color of the words has faded to black, and ink is smeared on them as well, so it is too difficult to determine exactly what the words were written with.] And after they die, they can die again. And again. And so many times again. I want them to die, and keep dying, and that way no one can bring them back. Jevvica is -mine-. She's -MINE-. I NEED HER! Nothing can STOP that! [There is more scratching with the strange ink, and deep cuts have been put into at least the next five pages by the pen.] Page Forty-Three: But not yet; oh no, not yet. Not until I finish. Not until the -grand- finale. I will have my hour. Pylia's anger won't help her when I'm done, and Mira's determination will pale compared to my strength. I will survive, and they will die, and they will lose Jevvica, and she will be mine, and STAY mine. [-undated] I'm doing a good job of controlling myself, don't you think? They'll never expect the turn of events. Oh no. None of them will ever see it coming. Pylia is now within my grasp, and Mira... Oh Mira. You are as beautiful as any woman I have ever known, but you... you will pay the most dearly. You will suffer. Long and grisly be the night that you die, and I shall enjoy your suffering with every fiber of my being. Your death shall be a beautiful one. I shall make it so. To Pylia... Hah. You think you have me now. But you are -wrong- Pylia. Things are not as happy as they seem. Things are deadly serious. And I mean deadly in the very strictest sense. You will both disappear, and I -will- have Jevvica to myself for once... and for all. [-... dated yesterday.] [A new entry was started, but the ink must be of the kind that can be removed after the fact, as you can see the scratches on the page, but there is no ink. Perhaps she ran out of it...?]