"Cayvis of Bleakspire Journal entry, my final entry.
In life I was nothing more than the mud beneath the lord's boot, a common peasant. An orphan, i had nothing to claim but to build upon my own given name. I've spent my life beneath the dirt of those who walked the roads and hold claim to anything. Over the years I had trained in the art of blacksmithing to try to attain any sort of respect to my own self proclaimed name. I have won over the love of my betrothed, who unfortunately cannot bear any children. Bound with her our name will die along with us. My lord has laid claim to all my work and forced me to create instruments of war in his name. I wish only not to be credited in this devastation to life. Soon after supplying the lord, he has ordered my presence upon the front line into one of his petty squabbles with a neighboring village. Upon returning victorious from the act I wish not to ever describe to any man, I find find my home umongst the others of my village reduced to ash. I was not able to protect the only thing that I have ever loved, I am forever disgraced and ashamed by this. The lord still sits in what can only be described as luxury by my fellow commoners, while the rest of the village lay reduced to ash. I wish not to live through this agony, alone. I have only the memories of her inside of my head to torment me on what I could have done if I refused and stayed in the village. I was, I am a failure. When you find my body please give me the pleasure of a decent burial, thank you.

My final entry has been in vain. I have been awakened, by what means I do not know. I do not hunger but only thirst. I try to drink but am only welcomed by the vile heaving of myself ridding my body of whatever I try to put in it. I now only crave the life who has taken everything from me, my lord. I wish only to be entrenched within his vicera, the only thing I can think of to feed my hunger. I do not know why I still am, but I do know what I shall do while I still unfortunately exist......"