Final entry of the private diary of Angammatar.
Cassandra ran into the room and slammed the door. The news was too good to be true. A cloaked man had looked for her in Marali to offer the most unexpected document. "You are the historian?" he asked, "I have something for you." She wasn't exactly that, but yes, she liked old books. He handed her an ancient scroll. "Just one single page. It may interest you greatly." And the stranger left, as swiftly as he has arrived. Back in the quiet room, Cassandra unrolled the parchment, to find...
The Private Diary of Angammatar - Final Entry
We are ready. I wait now for the appearance of Death. When he is ready the end will be in sight. Looking now at my hands I see what many who came before me have seen. The creeping blackness takes its hold. Slight now, but destined to grow. The signs that true power is coming to me. The fools who serve Life have no such signs. My mana ring glows dimly in the half-light. An item forged with the power of the blackness. I wonder, does it anticipate the battle to come? Can it sense that soon it will channel power through me into the lightning bolts? The lightning bolts that will cut down that traitor Arroc, and the pathetic cleric Enix. And what then for them when my Death's hands and mine have sent them to the cold realm? When they find their precious temples denied them, sealed by the arcane powers we soon shall wield together? Will they learn true terror then? Will they come to fear their futures, spirits void of flesh, doomed to haunt the broken world ere they dissipate into the blackness that is source of all? I hope so, I hope to see it on their faces as they die. Fools all of them. They trust in their book, they say Death is no God, merely a man. And what of it? He has the powers of a God, he is a God, he will take me with him and teach me the same powers. To other worlds, other planes we will travel, when this one is dust and ashes. Man can become God, and I shall! I think I will take the mantle of Fear.
Yes, the God of Fear, it sounds right. Fear shall haunt them, Death shall take them. Across all the planes we shall travel, the Moon's power behind us, driving a swathe of devasation throughout creation... He will explain it all when the shadows are all that remains of life on this plane. The Centaurs' blood has been shed, the Moon's sanguine light shines down. I feel the blackness around me. The time has come, Death is calling to me, I must go to him. When next I write no one shall remain to read. No matter, when I am Fear incarnate and terror of the planes I shall enjoy reading of this time, before my ascension. Will I be able to comprehend how small my mind is now? Soon I shall know.
The Private Diary of Angammatar - Final Entry
We are ready. I wait now for the appearance of Death. When he is ready the end will be in sight. Looking now at my hands I see what many who came before me have seen. The creeping blackness takes its hold. Slight now, but destined to grow. The signs that true power is coming to me. The fools who serve Life have no such signs. My mana ring glows dimly in the half-light. An item forged with the power of the blackness. I wonder, does it anticipate the battle to come? Can it sense that soon it will channel power through me into the lightning bolts? The lightning bolts that will cut down that traitor Arroc, and the pathetic cleric Enix. And what then for them when my Death's hands and mine have sent them to the cold realm? When they find their precious temples denied them, sealed by the arcane powers we soon shall wield together? Will they learn true terror then? Will they come to fear their futures, spirits void of flesh, doomed to haunt the broken world ere they dissipate into the blackness that is source of all? I hope so, I hope to see it on their faces as they die. Fools all of them. They trust in their book, they say Death is no God, merely a man. And what of it? He has the powers of a God, he is a God, he will take me with him and teach me the same powers. To other worlds, other planes we will travel, when this one is dust and ashes. Man can become God, and I shall! I think I will take the mantle of Fear.
Yes, the God of Fear, it sounds right. Fear shall haunt them, Death shall take them. Across all the planes we shall travel, the Moon's power behind us, driving a swathe of devasation throughout creation... He will explain it all when the shadows are all that remains of life on this plane. The Centaurs' blood has been shed, the Moon's sanguine light shines down. I feel the blackness around me. The time has come, Death is calling to me, I must go to him. When next I write no one shall remain to read. No matter, when I am Fear incarnate and terror of the planes I shall enjoy reading of this time, before my ascension. Will I be able to comprehend how small my mind is now? Soon I shall know.
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