Ghosts in the Sand

Damaris' diary

Written in Infernal

After finding the priest’s diary in the desert, I have decided to write my own. Most fortunately, upon making this decision, a book appeared next morning beside my bed. It is beautiful. A dark leather hugs tightly to wooden boards, and the pages smell clean and new. There is another scent too, something I cannot place, and I think i can sense it upon waking. It is like the remnant of a scent from a dream.
The first three pages had been filled for me, and (as if) there had been any doubt who this book came from I knew. Nyarlathotep has gifted me with three new spells for my arsenal. It must be pleased with my work. Which is good, because I was concerned with what it might think about my tearing down a fiendish temple.
I was weak. At first my excitement got the better of me and I thought it was a template of Nyarlathotep, but I was wrong. It was just a pretender. The signs confused me. There was a comforting whispering in my head, the statues looked similar to the creatures in my dreams. But there was no feeling of excitement, dread, of a terrible joy and vicious laughter.
These things, they comfort me. It may seem strange, but I am sure anyone else reading my diary will be a tiefling, and therefore have some sympathy with what I am saying.
Anyway. The priest’s diary talked of a changing, and the more I learn about the demonic things which have been happening in this country, the more it concerns me. I have not come to a place more likely to know of Nyarlathotep. Instead, it is full of pretenders. Over the course of my entries I can chart my own sanity. Should I mention anything about a change, I can read over this entry, and I will know what to do.

I have taken many lives, and today, I saved one. Keeri got into a spot of bother with a Barlite. This would not have worried me… until she stopped splashing about. I saw her, clear as day, and she was not bothering to breathe. So, I jumped into the freezing water and pulled her out, threw potions down her throat and spoke words from some scrolls. I dragged her back to the boat – and what did she want to do? Go shopping! Really! And I thought I had finally understood a woman of another race. Apparently not.
Normality resumed… slightly… when I dispatched one of the gentlemen we had been following. But really, if he was following a Barlite by choice, no doubt he was more trouble than he was worth. I don’t think Nyarlathotep will be particularly pleased with that offering – this man not seeming to be of an unhinged mind – but if he was following a Barlite in the dark… perhaps it wasn’t so bad after all.

Keeri has gone through a lot lately, and would do very well for Nyarlathotep. But. I can’t bring myself to do it. She is all light and happiness… and packs quite a punch. I am sure I will be told off at some point, but on this point I will not be shaken. Keeri will live. And I will do all I can to make sure that she is happy and healthy.

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TheTiredWriter

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