- See also: Sand and Ruin
The entries in this diary alternate between an elegant, well-rounded script and a slanted scrawl:
I never expected to find such tranquility here. No nattering crowds, no drifts of refuse. I should have been born in the country. I am only disappointed to learn I am here to verify translations—a drudge's work. But in the evenings, there is time for my own studies without distraction or fear of being branded "apostate" for my reading.
It is time to rise to my capabilities.
What steps must a man take to become such a being?
It is an excellent question. To bask in His glory must be enough and yet... and yet, I cannot let the curiosity go.
Does the Elder One take power from demons? I've learned much about their summoning and binding. I was surprised to find so many I recognized from the Circle among the Venatori, but they talk freely of rites and rituals forbidden in the Imperium.
They offer such power, for so little blood.
But I must not rush. Tempting as it is.
For have I not grown in skill and measure?
I cannot draw attention to myself. We will leave after we unearth these dwarven relics, not stay to practice binding the Fade's denizen's to our will.
Even though it would be so easy here, in a place where the Veil has grown so thin.
I am tired of this fear. Fear of harm I may do to myself. Fear of letting opportunity slip from me.
I must leave it behind me.
Binding a demon of higher power is dangerous...
Yet my skills have grown.
But what else will show the others what I'm capable of, what I can offer! I am a mage of the Imperium, and I will claim my birthright. The spirits through the Veil will see my power, and they will kneel—or I will make them.