© 2003 Warwick

What at first seemed to be a task simply to assist my master against the
wiles of the priestly hierarchy and to accompany him on a pilgrimage has
turned into something quite different. The holy city of Cynidicea is
besieged by the most dire of beings and the sky has been blotted out by the
blackest of magics and I find myself in the centre with my master,
the Prophet Vitus.

One wonders at the plans of these Zargonites and their followers. Those I
have witnessed crave the destruction of the weak, and they seemingly deem
the weak to be anyone who is not of their order. In short they appear to
crave the destruction of us all, but is there something more to this most
foul of armies? They claim to follow Zargon, and yet I am informed that my
master and his companions slew this beast. Could they come seeking his
resurrection as we seek the resurrection of the messenger?

If only the accursed darkness outside had just blotted out the suns rays
then I could have enjoyed the lack of the sun's heat, but the evil in the
air is even more oppressive than the heat had ever been. A different heat
in and of itself; it burns my soul instead of my skin. At least I can look
forward to the natural comfort of the underdark, although I suppose that I
will find myself looking forward to a respite from that as well in my end.

Still I pray to you Demeter and to you Usamigarus for the safety of my
master and of these people. Resurrected this place could be the home that I
have always desired, a place where greed and politics are to be crushed and
balance and order set in their place. I have ever remained your loyal
servant... Please oh Gods, let this seed survive that it may grow and
become a garden.