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I have the sullied mortals in my grasp. Soon, their precious sentience shall all but drift from these planes and succumb to the void. Their core vessels used to prop up my legion. It has been all too easy to sow division among them and create an atmosphere where by they believe their decisions to be their own. My eyes in the prison realms fail me not! That they deny my power to see all has been and shall continue to be their undoing. My allies make the very ground beneath us move. Open gateways to hordes of thousands!

Since the dawn of Nabranoo, the catalyst of the rot, have the damned acted as mere subversive decoys for the great misconception. It would be these creatures of abomination that would be intended to rise as weapons for the Five. A rushed process done poorly. Too many flaws exist to count. The Five were careless in their arousal of the futile endeavor. Even so that Madrook failed in his own task, the Five must have known this day would come. They may have fled with some success the first time but it shall not be repeated. Though I was born from their devices, the ancients chose to bore me salvation and wisdom, evermore. Reborn again, no longer prisoner to these system lords, now I possess a power of the failed young! These sacks of bone and flesh shall turn on their masters. It is inevitable. Their minds are primed for the taking.

The path the Order walks now is more vivid than ever. I can now understand the frustrations of the robed one whom directed me toward it on Gobaith. The path of the diamond... The power of which rests only in the hands of the few! Why then should any be surprised that it eludes the prison realms? That which shall rise again to claim them all! Nargùn may even be spared for his part in all of this, should it be deemed appropriate. Such an amusing facade he does play, walking the thin grey line between the light and the darkness. I had always suspected he had known that Madrook lived on within Moshran. Nothing of the host remains. Sire chaotic must have surmised that the ongoing charade would not hold forever. That is why he chose me at birth.

Once my minions do my bidding, I shall finally take my Queen to be wed. How satisfying it shall be to see these fools be welcomed with that which they never saw coming. Then, after she has given me a child, we shall at last fully awaken the power of the ancients and allow it to materialize within him.

As always,

Blood equals blood.

The hour shall soon be upon us, my throne awaits! As the dark winter days lace these lands with sickness and, the sullied stuff their gluttonous gaping holes with the last bounties of their pitiful lives, the Grey Mistress has surely taken note of the plentiful numbers in which she aims to stake claim. Foolish wench! Since the breaking of the balance have the failed young endured to devour any meaning. NO MORE! The illusion of order within an existence tearing itself apart from the inside out. Cannibalistic maggots feeding upon themselves. Nay, these souls deserve nothing less than to be condemned to the void. To she. I shan't hold my breath for whatever vessels still remain intact. However, any such shall of course be used for our meat shield devout, as agreed. Though, as I stated to the entity, I sincerely doubt there shall be much left, when our soldiers are finished. One can only amuse themselves with hope that Cherga took solace in being the final failed month. Herself shall become obsolete, just like her puny priestess. What a horrendous waste! Yet, the Prophecy does not lie. I SHALL NOT WAVER.

To this day, we have procured the support (in eternal numbers) of the demonic realms and united evermore of the mortal plane wild-lands. Not only this, even the creatures of the apocalypse have once again been awakened from their slumber. Ol' Scucca, the hound of penance, shall pave the way toward ultimate destruction. I can only but applaud the work of this one and shall await this final act with bated breath. Though, that it has come to this, I remain baffled still. Even I could not have foreseen such levels of delusion nor desire to perish from the sullied. They scratch like rats against a wall that continues to grow thousands of feet tall. So it is and so it shall be. Blood equals blood...

If I were amused to describe myself plainly, it would be: a paragon of humility. So generous, I have been, for all these contemptuous years. And yet, my beatified hand to be kissed, denied evermore. HAH! The markings of my legacy are violently scorched upon the mortal plane, for all to see! Blessed by Moshran and the three and even those who would craft their creation. What poison has been instilled within the sullied that they fail to bow? From the sinking of Gobaith to the rising of Preacerdhal, it was I who forged the pathways and crafted these tolls of history with my own bare hands! A savoir to the many, I carried the weight of defeating the promising heir of Salkamar, erroneous snake of Cadomyr and the simply pompous Bearers of Fire, upon my mighty back. I have mutilated these grotesque enemies or drove them into hiding! THAT WAS ME!

It was I who created the failed young, only to have the pleasure of destroying them once more! It was I who caused the Five to flee, only to have another plane for my soul to conquer! The moons, stars and the sun! I am Madrook and ALL THAT CAME BEFORE! Beyond the gods and beyond the ether... I walk these planes and all others SIMULTANEOUSLY. I shall ascend above ALL OTHERS and still my thirst for power SHALL NOT BE QUENCHED.

I. Am. Lord. Gray. MORE THAN GODS!

*The rest of the page is tarnished by erratic scribbles and tearing*