A Soft Voice Amidst Cacophony

There is pathetically little I can do as a man, as a tailor, as a practitioner of medicine. For all of my studies and my pursuit of knowledge, for all of my diligence and intelligence, there is naught I can do against a host of the Darkness itself.

But, nevertheless, I made my preparations. The house nears completion, and I have already moved in our possessions and my siblings; immediately after, I instructed Mariv to sell off all of our fabrics and threads, all those unnecessary and replaceable things, before the story of the horde broke to the greater city.

With this money, I hope to purchase lantern oils, and clay pots, to prepare what meagre defense I could think of, what little assistance I might be able to provide. I recalled that the demons feared fire - or perhaps that is too gracious, to say that they fear, in their twisted minds. They are mortal, I will say instead, and fire harms them they same as any mortal. I know of a mixture, from my studies, that makes the flame live longer, clinging to all that it touches upon; a fearsome weapon, and difficult to use. A small batch, however, should be of some use.

I have also revised my will, should Morhiag find me in the conflict; I wrote it some time ago, when I became Patriarch of the Azirni. Now, I feel it must be somewhat pointless, as there is little hope that the city will endure, much less my own kin. Nevertheless, it is done, and given to Mariv for safe keeping. I look upon him with such pride, and I know my brother will be able to carry on if my fate carries me to Annwn before one could hope. I have ensured also that Tzoli will be cared for, and all others that are dear to me acknowledged and appreciated.

As I noted before, as a man there is very little I can do against the Dark. As a priest, however, I may be capable of far more - I plan to lead a session of prayer, a gathering of all the true faithful that I might lay hands upon. An offering of blood beyond that which I can give myself, to plead with my master for intervention, for mercy. It will be a prayer to surpass any other that I have undertaken, and I admit I am fearful of what answer I will receive; even more fearful that I will receive no answer at all.

If the blood does not suffice, I am prepared to give my life.

Before I go, I will hide this journal away with the other tomes in my study. Some day, perhaps, it will be read by other eyes than mine; the key to the study will remain in my robes, for whomever cares for my body to find.

No matter what happens, I wish to note one last time my love for my kin and for my dear one. Mariv, Eleia, Tzoli - it is people such as you that bring light to the world; never allow your light to dim, nor the others around you to be lost in the Dark. To my Venice - I shall say only that I love you, and that fact alone would be sufficient reason to struggle to return from Annwn itself.

May Melchior guide and bless us all in the dark days ahead, and may the gods have mercy on our souls.