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First eve of the Tember

My Ma gave me her old Typist's Machine for my second birthday, though I don't reckon why she didn't want it anymore but I find the sound of the tapping and clicking when I press the buttons for the letters quite soothin'. It works fine and dandy as long as I keep it oily, and G character occasionally sticks before takin' a second to pop back up, but I think if I find the right tools I can fix it pretty easy. She says it be a bright idea if I start practicing my vocabulary before my pa starts tutoring me, but language in my opinion is the easiest skill to acquire, though I can't shake the local accent as much as I like. These Marshfolk have a bit of a hypnotic drawl to the way words glide off their tongues, but since most of my neighbors don't ever stash logs or char for their fires, I'm presuming them be descendants of sorcerers and witches so its suitable for my tastes.

They're also suspicious of my presence like I am of them, of course I don't look like kin to any of them or their blood on the account of my appearance of what they know my species as an "Alyrin", the spawn of Man and Abyssal demons. Of course some who take a liking to what my pa and his counterparts do treat me well and I return it kind to the best of my abilities as much as someone without a coin to their name can with a smile and a giggle. I do intend to pay my debts later to those persons in question later in some shape or form, Ma says I don't have to cause their my friends despite them being adults and I got my daddy's natural talent for talking to people certain ways.

I still don't like the idea of their generosity going unpaid, though Ma says no good deed unpunished and thinks it be best to let them be generous, kind of like having your cake and eating too! Speaking of cake, She used her book earnings to buy the ingredients to bake a delightful treat using a thing called cacoa, which is made from sort of bean only grown in the most lushest of environments, and layered with a sugary frosting. It wasn't most the elaborate delectable since she read the recipe out of cookbook, which I'm curious to try my hand at its recipes, but it's the gesture that counts in my opinion due the fact she took the time out of her day to do so.

There's nothing short of me to do around the house, her study is chock full of her Literary works entailing the exploits of Dark Heroes encountering monstrosities greater than themselves, and an oddly diverse set of cookbooks that seen frequent use. The town close by called Finnick is a port for all sorts of commerce and mercantile individuals, sometimes on a windy day I can smell the spices they bring from far away places. I would adore to travel to them, Mother says it better if I wait till I was older and more skilled to defend myself from whatever troubles may befall me, I would argue her point but doing something without thinking about it first in my view is unwise.

It's just I'm getting stir crazy staying in the premises of the house and the front yard because she won't let me play with the neighbor's children for reasons I suspect involve more than just my physical differences. I see some of them with a haunting gaze in their eyes like they've seen something that they weren't supposed to, but that can be a number of things around here since the marsh a home to a number of nasty critters including evil spirits and the undead. Some of the local rumors say that there is a demon that butchers peoples then takes the best parts to add onto himself, though I don't sense any others except for the occasional Impling or a succubus claiming a soul from a victim. Perhaps another year I shall research into what's scaring the natives, their uneasement is getting me antsy and I don't like it, it's agitating my nerves something fierce.

I find the local Engalic priest an extreme nuisance, dousing me with that foul holy water and assaulting me with no rhyme or reason. He did answer the question if I was immune, To some extent I am, despite it makes me itch like hell and bears an irritatingly stinging sensation. Apparently Holy water is more effective the viler the demon in question is, but to be truthful in my opinion, my predecessor enables other to gain knowledge that is questionable of nature so Malevolence is never the intention though mischief and mayhem is always the result.

I'll conclude my logging of my thoughts until new information rears its head to my presence.

7th Morn of Tember

I find myself at odds that the local patron is a once fallen angel that was a servant of Uriel, my pa's rival in heaven, despite his presence looming over the land like Moss on Bark. It seems that people are afraid to show their true colors around here, though I think its to keep the merchants in and the unsavory types out, but I get the feeling that these people know more than they let on. Pa told ma it was good idea to let me go exploring the countryside and the town, of course being the curious critter I am, I poked around the bookstore that branded Pa's sigil like it was proud of it.

I received a warm welcome and the storekeep let me peruse his wares, scrying through his spellbooks, but he seemed awfully curious who my Pa was. I told him that he'd be interested in potentially trading for something unique in his shop, He got the idea and brought me something awfully curious. An old enchanted tome with a Miramium latch, bearing the Mark of Lilith, suggesting that there is old Lilin, if not vampire, magic in that tome.

The storekeep apparently is one of Pa's worshippers and been waiting for me come around, though for an ancient fellow, he still looked dapper. He told me that he stole the book from her crypt where the angels made her lay and is the reason why she's still kicking as one of the true abyssal lords. One problem with his gift was the fact it needed a key and knowing Miramium is often the work of those nifty gnolbolds, I'd set my way onto finding one or two that could make a lockpick out of their miracle metal.

Granted, I figured it be ideal to have a set of Thaumic Lockpicks to help get into places I needed to be, so I scoured the entire township of Finnick for a gnolbold then went my way into the neighboring Hamlets and hollows. I fortunately came across a small band dwelling within an outcropping practicing alchemy who obliged me if they had the opportunity to look over me with their lenses. Pa says their Arcane lenses can see what you're made of and it seems I'm on the crafty side of things, of course the concept of making something does sound fun in trivial sort of way. I'd think those lenses be also good for chasing down any demon or devil hiding out in plain sight, as well as angels.

I sat myself a ways away from the fuzzy chuckleheads after getting my picks then fiddled with the lock for a while until it clicked. I was so excited until I found out Pa beat me to it since he snatched Lilith's spellbook a long time ago, and replaced with your run of the mill Lust magic book since he left a scribbled note in the front page. Still, it was somewhat of a prize considering my curiosity on how to make critters breed like rabbits, including mortals, so I took a gander through it.

I learned that the seven deadly sins were a part of the thaumological aspects and lust was one of them so it lead me on another journey to find a dragon. Fortunately the Gnolbolds told me that their Eldmother lived in the Wrecktide Caverns by the shore, which made finding her that much more a breeze than anything. The hard part was dredging through the seaside dunes that didn't exactly settle right when you stepped on it, leaving me to tumble around like a weed. Not mentioning how the wind kept on playing around with me and tossing me up in the air as if one of mother nature's children was torturing me.

Thankfully I managed to climb into the cave and meet quite the beaut of a draconic specimen that had scales that were as black as the abyss and eyes akin to amethysts. She was an old dragon but she was the friendliest sort I met, it felt appropriate to let her know who I was and boy she roared up storm, quite literally. Her and Pa known one another in the old days before the Mortals came around her and remembers when she chased off the Wuthvoy from his realms, and told me tales of olden days when he was full of hasty vigor.

The lady drake, and yes I do mean drake cause she didn't have wings though was more of swimmer than a glider, I hate dun how people think drakes and dragons are the same, Well they are the same but there a difference. Anywho, she was kind enough to teach me some of that old draconic spellcrafting and how to learn more of it, said I needed to understand the aspects that comprise the cosmos to create incantations and magical spells. I understood the basic elements but combined and how they mixed and matched in the world to create what they created.

Fortunately she sent me on the right direction with one of those arcane lenses that thaumologists used to find the ingredients for their craft, and wandered my way back into town. I learned my first set of aspects by looking at something Ma told me not to stare at, turns out the sun is made of Light, Fire, Order and Energy. It took my eyes a minute to stop casting that accursed spot in my sight, then worked my way in discovering a whole heap of stuff.

Truthfully, I was excited to learn about the universe this way and all that comprised, learning of ethereal essences that made myself up, then came the challenge of whipping a spell that wouldn't backfire. Draconic theurgy always had that one drawback is that if you didn't understand something, it would come back to bite ya in the keister! I started with a simple combination, Order-Light spoken in my native tongue.

Much to my surprise, a small ball of light appeared that frankly was useless in the daytime but I definitely didn't need a candle for reading light now, though I'm always afraid candles might catch something aflame. It's not an unreasonable fear since a majority of homes are made of dried swampwood planks and roofs made of marsh tar, the only structures made of any sturdy materials is the town of finnick since it's largely made using clay fired brick from bog clay. Of course folks around here are keen on using fire magic or that Alchemical known as Nitra, which Ma is found of utilizing since it doesn't smolder when you douse it.

To be truthful, Ma could live in a more modern home aside from her family home that her parents left in their will, it's not like she doesn't have the money but supposedly if left unattended her Kin's rivals will burn it down to spite her. The Mackley clan isn't the brightest folk around finnick since they can't afford to go to university, nor mentioning the fact they're fond of breeding their first cousins, of course I'm above their petty squabble but I won't hesitate to woop ''em if they step on my toes. Sadly finding shoes my size is a wild goose chase, no cobbler in town makes ''em that big nor wide enough, its not that I'm uncomfortable without them, I just feel self-conscious when other people wearing them when I'm not.

I'm lucky I can find clothes that fit well since they are a lot of tailors that cater to the lanky folk around here, and the occasional fey that passes through Finnick. Ma goes to the one by the docks for my fittings, partially since he sold his soul to my Pa a long time ago in exchange for some sort of knowledge he has now, damn fine tailor though. He even makes a little extra room in the codpiece area for my trousers, apparently I inherit my Pa's virility, but leaves me to question of my conception. I think that is a mystery best left unanswered because the truth oft be stranger than fiction.

30th of Tember

Those damn devil-worshipping Mackleys set the old Heartfield manor ablaze, fortunately I saved all our books and our personal effects to the best I could but the house was irredeemable. Much of the structural integrity was compromised and the foundation cracked from years of the soil shifting around, a given circumstance due to a lot of the soil being peat moss. I tried my hand at scrying and apparently it was the work of their House familiar, an ages old impling with a nasty temper that always ran their errands, of course my desire to snap the bastard's neck was great but I knew it unwise to tangle with the likes of him.

Fortunately the Bookshop keeper let us stay in the floors above and my mother took the time to use the shrine dedicated to my pa in the Basement, praying hard for him to help on what to do. While she sought the comfort of the old man, I decided to fight fire with fire by practicing my summoning skills. Now I would've tried summoning a creature of an abyssal nature but I felt it be wise to summon a devil to counteract that mean old sunavabitch!

I drew up a circle using a fire imbued calk in the basement of our burnt out home, then called upon a pit lord to aide me. My luck turned to be a bit queer, I summoned an Infernal Imp wearing coveralls and a hardhat with a slick big city accent, He had a big smile when looked at me. "Oh are you Vetitium's kid? About time he had a son, and you got your old man's charming good looks. So what you need kid?" he asked me, flattering with his silver tongued words, but had my interest. I questioned how he knew my pa then answered, "Your dad is a big shot Abyssal lord, one of the true ones, and he is one of our biggest customers, you think he'd use all his magical knowledge to build everything but apparently some books are sensitive that type of thing. You wouldn't believe how many enchanted cabinets and bookshelfs he pays for in a given month, Hell I had to make dedicated crew just to sate his need for them and their working around the clock." he explained, revealing he was the owner of an Interplanar construction company.

Mind you the it baffled all my conventional senses on why devils, much less imps, start an On-Demand Construction company to build whatever your hearts desired, but it begged the question of his name. Of course the wise witted fiend countered with the same question, I obliged him then told of his, "My name's Qayin kiddo, and yeah yeah I murdered my brother cause the bitch Yahweh didn't appreciate my offering. I mean come on! I worked months of yielding those crops and all he did was chase down some lamb. You know the worst part is my brother forgave me but the yahweh didn't, the bitch sent me to Hell. Talk about gratitude when I built a city in the middle of the freaking desert and have dozens of children that praised her name, but nope, will never admit she's wrong. I could've worshipped any other diety but noo my mother and father said that she'll take us into heaven, well after we die of old age. I had the luck to die in my sleep, should've worshipped Hircine or Gaea, at least I could've been reborn as nature spirit or an Eternal Hunter...." he continued on.

He wouldn't cease talking for the next hour or so, I politely humored him by listening to his tirade, but I sympathized with the fact he was cheated out of a promised afterlife. I understood why my pa had patience for him, He at heart was a blabbermouth that let information pour from his lips akin to a roaring waterfall after a fresh monsoon rain. He finished his elaborately long tale to pose a question, "So kid, What you need help with?" he said, looking up at me.

I lead him out of the basement through the cellar door to show him the ashen husk of what remained and told him it was the work of the Mackley's familiar, "That Ass? I remember him, he kept burning down my home in Ring of Treachery everytime after I rebuilt it, not to mention he'd piss in my garden to spite me. What I still can't figure out is how he managed to turn it to cinders when it was made hellfire brick." he detailed, which lacked even the remotest notion of common sense, particularly since Hellfire brick couldn't be set aflame.

I asked him the cost of reconstructing my home as it is par for Devils to ask for something in return, but I was shocked by his generosity, "Nah kid, this won't take more than a couple hours for my crew and I to fix, consider it a favor for your old man and your mother. Heavens forbid if he isn't distracted, he'll raise more chaos than mephistopheles can in a fortnight, and the last time he did, Loki wouldn't come out of hiding for months." he said, forcing me to wonder what my Pa did to frighten the Vahallan Lord of the Maelstrom and Mischief.

My own curiosity begged to inquire on what my pa did, and I learned Shame is a powerful weapon, "That old fink snatched Loki's Diary and read outloud Loki's feelings towards Thor, of course those shapeshifting Valhallans tend to swap their parts around. Poor guy was so embarrassed, until he bucked up and kissed Thor in the mead hall, but that's ancient history." he explained, providing the sense that the results were more beneficial than harmful.

I decided it was best to leave him to his work for the evening, as I felt a tad tired from all that conversating, almost exhausted which was odd for my physique. It was odd to meet the god of vampires as a devil but I digressed for the results

4th of Tober

Gods be damned, except Pa, That old Imp is trying to kill me something fierce since he afflicted with a curse of Blight, making me sicker than a mangy hound infested with fleas. Not to mention the bastard flung bag of Nether fleas on my hide that itch to all hell, and the little devils won't burn off despite my incantations. I have to resort to more desperate measures that Pa might not be too happy about me using.

5th of Tober

Ma took me to one of those engelic churches because her cousin was getting baptized, never understood why he'd get blessed by one of those angels but the Heartfield family is one of those odder kin that tend to be more free spirited. Fortunately I had a clever Idea to strike my maladies while the sermon went on and the preacher was distracted during his babbling. I crawled into the vat of Holy water then proceeded immersing myself in the stinging stuff, but the fleas hated it more than I did.

I wasn't under the influence of that curse no more thanks to that old holy magic, but boy did I give the preacher scare, apparently I can taint holy water and turn it into ink just by touching it. It made those churchfolk think twice about what gods they should've been worshipping, heard them saying I really was the spawn of the Forbidden one. It drew quite the attention to my Ma then the rumors went flying, and the priest had a heart attack at the thought of my pa reproducing.

Good thing I knew a little necromancy to perform a proper resurrection or else it might've drawn the attention of the angels. The downside is he saw the Abyssal depths where darker things than I lie, demons and aberrations who'd gladly eat his soul upon his body passing, and I knew there was an Aufernal amongst the shepherd's ranks who had ill will towards him. He turned into a follower pa's real quick, declaring me the presage of Vetitium and what not, then quickly defiled his own grounds in pa's name.

The whole scenario was a bit embarasskin considering what happened afterward, the town whipped up into fury over little old me. This was one of the reasons why I'd rather be traveling out on my own because Pa isn't popular amongst certain circles, and Finnick had quite a bit of angel worshippers who'd wage a holy war if it meant crippling the Abyssal Lords. It was riot trying to get back home, someone almost killed ma with a crossbow though I was slick enough to catch it with the tentacles on my back.

One aspect about my physiology is that I inherited some of Pa's tentacles on my back and they tend to listen to what I am thinking, though sometimes they click in on my unconscious thoughts, almost got in a trouble with a local teacher when one of them tried slithering up her craw. Some people tell me I look like an Imp from the old fairytales because they used to paint them black akin to my skin ''n fur, but I ain't fond of those sordid details, I'd rather people see me as me. Pa says until I start honing my skills and doing some stuff for people along with the community, they be treating me like kin then, I don't doubt his wisdom but I doubt it be that easy.

On some good news, I done fixed the G key on mah typing machine, apparently Ma likes boiled legunuts and one had gotten stuck in it before turning to mushy gunk in it.

10th of Tober

Bust my britches that Mackley Imp won't leave well enough alone! He has failingly attempted to burn our house for the 8th time, though thank goodness that old vampire Qayin warded our place against the likes of him. He seems to getting aggravated as well, but I better up the anti before he escalates our little disagreement any further, though I'm stumped as to what to try. Ma says all Implings have one key weakness, they're greedy sons of bitches and she normally don't cuss but in this case I think it's well deserved. She did warn that they like to be all legal like by making contracts and written deals, and my negotiating skills need a little brushing up.

I talked to the local drake eldmother about what I should do, though her advice was to eat him but I'm not keen on cannibalism of another sentient being, it's just impolite to do so. Now I retraced my steps to places that could probably provide me answers, The Bookstore, and the keep told me that the Mackley Imp his Weakness was Holy water, with the only place I knew to get it from the church. Fortunately the local parish had a cleric appropriate the former father's role before he went bonkers into the woods and cavorting with the Orcish tribals in the swamp, whom apparently taken a liking to his talking.

I entered the church and boy that Holy man stonewalled me from getting what I needed, saying that I was a blight upon the land though there was couple succubi in finnick that're more of a problem than I am. Told him I was having my own problems with that accursed Devil, posing a bit of moral dilemma for the clergyman until we reached a compromise. He said he'd take care of my problem in exchange I come to church less often, mainly a Win-win for all parties involved since going to Church is Ma and her kin's thing.

One thing though that bothered me about that church was the Angel statue was Jophiel's, not Uriel's which seemed kind of queer considering she was, by my knowledge, the Goddess of Madness and Imagination. I probably think it was just the architect's oversight when designing the place to fit in though considering the chaos she'd bring by walking around. Ma says I need to be less paranoid or else that'll be the death of me, the worst part I feel she's right.

12th of tober

Lucky day! lucky day! The cleric came through on his promise and bashed that Imp something fierce when he tried setting my place ablaze again. I saw everything and the Mackley devil run for the hills, though I didn't see him come back down from them, before it frightened me a little at what I heard. There was some ungodly sort of noise coming from them hills that could spook even my Pa under the right circumstances.

Ma says there werewolfs in them hills but I get it a feeling it was more than them at work, something beyond Hircine's handiwork.

14th of Tober

Apparently the entire Mackley family was slaughtered in their home with their arms and good bits missing, albeit any part of them that was good would've spoiled quickly. Everyone in Finnick is spooked out of their wits and I'm a little shaken if that someone's looking for spare parts, they be looking for the more demonic locals for exotic parts. One of the local Ghaddir, the aufernal that I mentioned, who partakes of a local cafe's pastries on a daily basis said should keep my left eye out on anyone with a butcher's knife and anyone buying a bunch of thread for stitching.

He apparently was keen on Finnick's underground market, and what sort of unsavory types were looking for what, especially if it was of an Arcane nature. Of course his official occupation was that of the local butcher and swine farmer, though Pork doesn't sit too well in belly as much as I'd like it too, but most folk gotta make a living somehow. I sat down with him for a short spell to be kind, especially since he seemed like kind of gentleman that enjoyed company.

"So Vetitium has finally produced a spawn after all these Eons, we are definitely in for some big changes ahead." he spoke, taking in that knowing my Pa wasn't the kind of folk who'd lay with any maiden on a whim. I reckoned I ask the portly fella why, "If you know when an Abyssal Lord has too much free time on their hands, it's a sign for disaster, and when they are busy doing something, then everyone's in for a catastrophic surprise! It's what I love about residing in their domain, you never what to expect as opposed the Inferno, you can see a conspiracy or plot against you from a mile away because everyone spoils the surprise by talking about it." he told, which made quite a bit of sense considering his perspective. I always knew living close to pa meant a hectic hell of time surviving amongst all the madmen and cutthroats that run rampant, I even see little bit of it in Ma's eyes though I figured she kept under wraps by writing her stories.

The Ghaddir, whom I learned later was named Halitus, told me "Anyway kiddo, I'd be wary of travelling the swamps and hanging around any witches or necromancers. Finnick's also got a dark reputation for Corpsedrafters, whom gladly rip open some of the graves around here to make their thralls, especially the ones aren't warded." he professed, albeit revealing a tad darker side to the town I thought was boring as all the sins. The idea of such folk creating undead critters normally didn't phase me but I felt a little disgusted by thought of my ma's dead kin getting sewn together to make some twisted macabre of a zombie. It did lead to me the revelation that I should look around the local graveyards when I had the chance.

16th of Tober

Ma got worried when I told her about somebody ripping up the dead, then took me to the Heartfield Yard, her family's old burying place. It was outside of town quite a ways but what got me was the several foot walls that were sigiled and runed against something from getting out, though what got me thinking. First thing I noticed was the ghoulish looking fella carrying around a spade, dressed in groundskeeping attire amongst the caged tombs and sarcophogi.

It was a rather nice looking necropolis, don't me wrong, but it was no less alarming that the tombstones beared words such as Vampire, Lich, Demon, and Revenant emblazoned on them like a warning to grave robbers. I asked Ma what she was doing then told me, "I'm ensuring that none of our relatives are likely to leave their resting place. Your father forbid if GamGam got out of her crypt then started terrorizing what's left of the Mackleys. It would make the town think we murdered them by unleashing our less desirables on them." she explained to me until I heard a voice coming from her great great grandma's stone box, "Brenna, is that you dearie? Whose you talkin to? Is that my great grandbaby? Whose the daddy? Is he adorable?" she said.

I didn't think to be scared of what was written on her tombstone, "Vampire" though I was curious the kind of vampire, "Hey GamGam are you like Qayin's Kin or did ya drink Lililin blood?" I asked. "I think I done cursed myself with Qayin's blessing doing a little circle magic, but what's good for him is good enough for me. In hindsight I should've read over my manuals that're buried with me, though I don't got reading light in here." she told, revealing that she was keen on the natural craft. I was tempted in releasing my matrilineal ancestor, "I'm gonna let you out. I wanna learn witchcraft." I told her though I was shocked by her reply.

"Listen to your Mamma and Gamgam boy, Don't let me out, nor cousin jeffrey, especially cousin Jeffrey! That boy went full on Incubus and knocked a bunch of wenches up on bender. The box I'm keeps me safe from fates worse than death, like drowning for all eternity or hanging from a birch till someone cuts me down, though I'm bored. Actually, ask your mamma if its okay cause she mentioned the Mackleys getting theirs and I think be bad time for me to come crawling from my grave." she said, before I heard shouting two rows over from a warded caged tomb.

"Oh shut up you old witch, if I hadn't eaten that succubus heart you had lying around, I wouldn't be like this! I've been horny and starving for decades, this everlasting erection is painful!" came from What I assumed was cousin Jeffrey, whom I slightly felt pity for as another man. This little hooting and hollering went on for quite a bit, "If he lets you out, you'll be sticking it in every succubus you can find and making more Lililin, can't exactly let that happen. Finnick won't be the same again if he gets loose... ahh screw it, Let us loose. I ain't picky about nor am I keen really doing anything at the moment, I wanna meet my old boyfriend." she done told.

My ma had a particularly odd look in her eye like a spark of something mad ignited in her, , "You know what, If the Mackleys are dead, let's have some fun!" she said, bewildering me to her train of thought. She had the gravekeeping ghoul pry open Gamgam's sarcophogi, sliding off the lid and unleashing a grisly looking critter that was nearly skin and bones, dressed in funerary vestments, "Oh well now, I needs to find me a goat or something cause I'm wicked thirsty." she said, skulking out of the yard. I really didn't think to question Ma's Madness, though I felt the inspiration to do likewise with Cousin Jeffrey's tomb, busting open the locks and setting that old Incubus free. He took flight without even thanks but i thought it be nice to have some kin I can relate to being an abyssal and all.

"I'd say open all the crypts but some people rather sleep past their bedtime, or is it naptime? Why make up all these different times for different things or why not?" I heard behind me, until I looked to see an angel wearing an amalgamated patchwork of clothing and hat akin to jester's but also a king's crown. I had the notion I knew who it was and I felt uneasy about my presumptions, "What if the dead are the living and the living are the dead, or all we just skeletons wearing fleshy suits!" the Angel delved to its madness. Ma started cackling and laughing just from the bizarre creature's presence, though there wasn't who said critter was, "Jophiel, Why have you come, it's not tea time!" she said.

Lady Lunacy scowled at the name, "I prefer Ann Marie, though you can call me Jophiel if you want me to hang you by your own intestines." she threatened....

17th of Tober

Well, the Heartfield manor has a couple new residents since Gamgam found a suitable source of blood to feed her unnatural hunger, but she don't drink too much because she likes to look like an elderly woman. I guess there is some wisdom with being a old vampire, and she's been teaching me all her home remedies for all sorts of ailments, including ones that befoul demons and devils. She even told me how to get rid of any otherworldly fleas by immersing myself in the ocean, taking advantage of my physiology liking the water for reasons unknown to me.

Cousin Jeffrey, or Malcolm as he prefers to be called by his middle name by people in public, been wandering around masquerading as a human and meeting the local lillilin whom taken to him like they knew him before. Unfortunately to my dismay he only comes around in the morning to sleep on the sofa, apathetic to my presence, and mostly ignores any attempts of conversing with him, treating me like a kid. It is albeit refreshing to be ignored in some situations, being treated my supposed age, not mentioning gamgam is always keeps the pantry stocked with baked goods.

Her real name is Rosy, albeit she likes to be called GamGam out of respect for her age, saying "If I didn't have as many children to just be called rosy, I'd be better off not having little ones, and kind of the reason I ain't looking like a spring rose. If those old parts get kicking again, I'm boned." she said. She had my sympathies consider most of modern Heartfields descend from her and her twelve children, anymore after all this time would be plain overkill. Speaking of killings, There has been three more victims of whatever's been hunting people down, worst part is that the killings been taking in place in town now opposed to the hamlets.

What got my britches in a twist is Lady Lunacy has been hanging around, I've been catching her talking to Ma about something, except I haven't caught wind of the subject.

21st of Tober

Pa whisked me away from Finnick for awhile, says whatever is hunting them people is trying to hide itself from him and doing a darn good job of covering its tracks. Never knew Apocryphus was bigger than the town itself, there is books and cases as far as the eye can see, the smell of aged paper and leather is comforting to my senses though to the point I find myself drifting into dreams and idle thought. I can hear the whispers of those praying for the knowledge to overcome their conflicts, feeling myself attune to whatever godly power pa held.

What struck me here was inspiration, here I was surrounded by the grandest archive of knowledge in the universe and folks in Finnick were under seige by something unknown and pa represented what was unknown in the world by knowing what was unknown. Man that phrase is a conundrum in itself, how can something be unknown if he knew it, unless he didn't know it himself.

I beset myself to search his archives for anything related to what I knew about Finnick, despite my shortcomings in the fact that there was thousands of tomes for miles on end. Pa suddenly revealed his avatar out of the blue, or at least one of them, "You're searching for something my son? What is it you seek? I or my Aspirants will assist you." he told me, though I was catching wind of an ulterior motive, one I reckoned I liked. Told him I was looking for Finnick's Town history and anything related to it, then brought me several texts that spanned a good several hundred years or so, Good thing I'm a speedy reader.

Ordinarily I ain't keen to people spying over my shoulder but Pa seemed infinitely curious while I kept an empty mind til he broke the silence, "It is excellent you've taken an interest in the histories but why finnick's of all places?" he said. Mind you I knew he could read minds but him knowing my plans was bad as me knowing his plans so thought of anything a boy like me normally thought of, Lasses and Lashes. I saw the wriggly old starfish jitter from my fancies, before he broke my focus, "You've inherited your mother's... Imagination." forcing me to think of Ma and the critter pestering the town.

I hears pa chuckle in his merry old way, "You honestly desire to save the denizens of Finnick whose destinies are to be resurrected at the hands of Corpsedrafters and Gravecallers? Very well, I'll shall assist you. Next time don't think your Fantasies will overwhelm my sensibilities, try reading the thoughts of Dirty Minded Paladin and his Brachina lover, There lies true horror." He explained, seemingly spooked by the fellow he mentioned. Now what got me a thinking why Pa was so eager to help me, "Pa, whatchya plotting?" I asked before I discovered a queer answer. "Think about it, a Demon child saving a town from certain disaster, and my spawn no less, now that is a tale worth writing! Its unpredictable, chaotic, and tosses all known social conventions those foolish mortals value out the proverbial window. I adore the concept! It reminiscent of your mother's novels." he explained, but I was humbled by the idea he was doing out of sheer entropy and chaos.

What came next, to be honest, I was little frightened by, considering Pa fetched a book that no mortal should've read nor laid sight upon, "Since you seem to be fond of Draconic Theurgy, I believe you'd enjoy this." he told me. It was a tome made from the scales of Jorgumander, The World Devourer, but something told me that someone made this with an insidious purpose in mind, "This tome contains knowledge of all entropic and eldritch arcania in the Abyssal depths, you're welcome to examine it but please do not leave with it." he said, sounding like an old man. I pondered the pages looking for something useful, finding nothing 'cept a few tricks and nothing but destruction, I reckoned I needed something relating to Pa's aspects, sight beyond sight.

I thought to focus on my target and the town, closing my eyes until I began seeing something, glimpse of a stitched horror shambling through the streets at night, clippings of memories past and perhaps the future. In my trance I finally saw what I needed to see through sights of monster that plagued Finnick, a horrid abomination composed of living and dead flesh, countless eye and limbs, hearing him utter, "Kill Halitus..." determined to kill my Aufernal associate. I then saw something through the eyes of my ma, as she looked in her bedroom vanity, feathery wings began sprouting from her back.

Accompanying her was Jophiel, "I am glad you've agreed to take my cursed status as the Eidolon of the Senses, No power is worth the madness it brings!" she spoke, speaking of blessing my ma with her divinity. I heard her voice through her ears', "I don't know how Zarek will handle this, and I don't see why your Aspect wishes to turn me into an Angel?" she replied. "Oh don't worry Darling, He is seeing and hearing through you as we speak. You are doing a great service to the world, I've been trapped as Lunacy for so long that the others I have forgotten me." The old archangel said, spoiling the fact I was watching.

My heart divided itself, part of me dreaded the idea of mother losing her mind while the other content in vile ambition, though I felt slightly disgusted at what I saw. I felt it best that I finish my business in Finnick, then consider a long Hiatus from the Abyssal Depths. I can feel my blood boil here as I grow, I know my demonic blood calls for me to preform something awful but my heart and soul are keen on something different.

I couldn't dawdle any longer, something had to be done, I needed to do something!...