[Kefkin]

The night as I will now explain, I must emphasize, is as true as I can possibly make it. I have not added anything, as such may discount the horrible facts within. If the account cannot be preserved in such a fashion, it is not even worth recording. All things contained herein are the truth as I know it, and as it shall be known from here on.

Last night, I was drawn out into the evening by an almost inaudible murmur. I can only compare it to a whispered word spoken softly into a pillow. The sound seemed to be coming from everywhere, but nowhere all at once. I tried to shut it out by closing my eyes and clearing my mind, but visions began to cloud my thoughts, visions of a very dark place. Deep within the mountain. A circle of figures came into view, robed individuals, each chanting soundlessly. They encircled a pit, the source of the murmuring.

I awoke out of the trance suddenly, my curiosity stirred now as to the origins of the actual murmuring. I bundled myself up in my cloak and headed out into the night.

The scribe drew in a deep breath, his hand began to shake almost uncontrollably. He could still hear the whispers. Perhaps they were simply in his mind. He stood and paced quietly. After several minutes he sat again, ready to continue.

((tbc))