Role

Chapter 9

This pitch black page is bound with spider silk, absorbing all nearby light.
The writing upon it glows strangely white, as if drawn with focused light
itself. Several brief aphorisms are drawn at strange angles on either side of the page.
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The Coven is more powerful than I had even imagined. All the rumors of the
Shadow Planes existence, I have confirmed they are true. And it is a
glorious place indeed, devoid of all light, even absorbing of such things.
Swarms of nightgaunts and shadow dragons circle the sky, many lurking things
beyond ordinary vision, and it strangely feels as home. I do believe the
Plane exists as the Shadow of the Truth itself. Its mysteries vast, and
yet I am most certain somewhere there, my knowledge, my power--it shall
become complete. My research shall continue as often as I can gain access. It
seems to take much energy to do so. And should the Coven continue to accept
me as their Gatekeeper of sorts, I shall see to it they obtain everything
they desire there, perhaps even more.

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And so another has fallen to their deathly game of chance. The necromancers
attempt at Becoming, it would seem, is deadly more often than not. It is a
shame, as I had truly great plans for Anilsanatne. She had become my new eye
within the Chasm, even if it time she would no doubt attempt (and fail!) to
deceive me. And yet after witnessing Thurmonbrue, now Anilsanatne, utterly
destroyed by their process, I am even more certain of this image etched
within my mind--that of the other way. A transformation cast by the vision of
the Truth, the pure Will itself unleashed, such magic as has never been
wielded before by the mortral mind. Perhaps I shall have to visit this Priest
they spoke of, whom I hear also maintains the company of the Coven's
Mistress. There is always another way, yes, and the Fathers Eye shall seize
upon it.

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It was so long ago that I set out with the Voice to open the Gates of this
Temple. And now Quarissa has finally fallen to the ravages of Time. Thus a
void remains. The revenants grow unsettled with the silence, even as their
numbers flourish. Perhaps this void shall inspire another to rise up and
seize their potential. A few young ones emerge from the ether. For I am
content as the Eye, yet should it come my time to speak more than watch, I
would see to it with great diligence. A leader, a speaker, a visionary, all
of these things I can be, fueling the Cult. We shall need a Voice soon, yes.
As is the Will of the Father, it shall be as my own.