It is done! Finally, I have done it! I have found it! No more shall I be called defective! No more will they label me a lowborn! For I have what many spend their very existence in search of!

 As a flame dances between my fingers, a new mastery within my grasp, I announce- I PROCLAIM- myself the Master of a World Scar!

 May the World gasp in awe at the name of Sabinian, The Saint...

 Greetings, my fellow Scholar! Seems as though You still possess the ability to digest my writing. Excellent! One should be proud of such a feat.

 Let me fill in these pages, with the events of the past fortnight, as quite a few peculiar progressions occurred within this period.

 As You might have surmised from the upper paragraph, the World Scar has, at last, ripped through our dimensional fabric, and laid claim onto Lockrifta and the grasslands, forestry, and sea beyond it.

 I am inclined to apologize for the paragraph's rushed handwriting. My sheer excitement made the feather move on its own... Quite literally.

 The tremble in the air, the very feel of a breath brought with it power, beyond mere lowborn comprehension. The growth of control I now possess over the realms has not only paved a path to elemental Sorcery but also made me a near-daily resident of the local brothel. The best one, mind You! Seems as though the more power in one's possession, the more one indulges in the animalistic.

 I doubt one such as You could grasp the ecstasy of ever-growing prowess within one's self. No intoxicant comes near!

 Yet, there were only 2 people, who even acknowledged these changes, including myself. So let me tell You how I, Sabinian the Saint, Master of a World Scar, have come to spend the last 4 days, reveling in the fulfillment of my Fate!

 And the other, who might bring me onto even greater heights...

 I might as well begin, by tying up some loose ends of my previous entry. At the brink of dawn, I was summoned to present myself before Lord Heimerich himself. Due to my previous display of prowess, he was quite intrigued, to say the least, to meet the one they call ''Saint''. Even if his methods were beyond impolite and ungentlemanlike, I was very eager to meet the man face to face! This was the moment I had hoped for.

 So You can imagine my disillusionment, as the Lord turned out to be a mere religious zealot, bending a knee to the fabrications of the Prophet. He even had the audacity, to state, that he had considered my execution, for the reported heresy of CURING his people, by demonic means, before coming to the conclusion, that I could save his wife. I lost all faith in the man at that exact moment. Oh, the irony...

 What makes me grind my teeth evermore, is the reason behind his sudden ''enlightenment''. Evidently, the hearsay of my name being associated with the church was a truth I wished not to be. Adding fuel to the flame, the leader of the Inquisition, Bishop Linchester, caught onto this gossip. One would expect such a brash man, to start flailing his sword and whip, yet he took another path.

 Preaching to the Lord, the Bishop had painted me a ''Holy man'' in Lord Heimerichs eyes, stating that I work for the Fraustians. What's more, he stated my position to be under his.

 I would have commended such finesse, yet to put me under him in rank... I suppose the man's pride had to be healed somewhat.

 Ludicrousy...

 Regardless, with my head still on my shoulders, I made the decision to participate in this charade. I'm not so foolish as to let mere pride get in the way of success.

 After a heated discussion, about my transgression against the religious messengers, I created a fabrication of being a physician-turned-faithful, who was sent here to assist the Inquisition, only to find the town in near ruin. From then on, I explained, how I had helped the lowborn, not even aware of the true Fraustian attempts to do the same.

 With sly promotion from the Bishop, Lord Heimerich had been convinced and led me to his beloved woman's room, where 2 desperate disciples of Fraust barely kept the woman alive. Luckily, their foul ''Fire Water'' concoction was nowhere in sight.

 After chasing away the 2 foolish teens, I inspected the half-dead subject, only to conclude, that the ailment had not been ''The Pus Rot'', but something else entirely. The tumors were smaller, yet covered a wider area. Heavy malnourishment didn't seem to help the procedure. Nothing I couldn't handle, especially with Astarazul treatment.

 Couldn't say the same for her...

 Before I could leave, Linchester caught me, and we had a short exchange behind closed doors. He threatened to expose my neck to the Lord's blade if I do not play my part in his machination. My part being the ''proof'' of the Fraustian effectiveness.

 The converse was swift and meaningless, so I shall spare You the insults we threw around. All I will say, however, is that I left victorious, as I always do.

 Now with blackmail on my platter, I informed the Lord of the coming procedure and a rough estimate of one week. In 7 days, she would either perish or be reborn anew.

 Naturally, Lady Brigette now walks the halls once more, with the sickness nowhere in sight. Seems as though my creation can cure more, than just ''The Pus Rot''.

  Together with the recovery of Lockrifta and his wife, the Lord was quite keen on rewarding both me and the Church.

 The deed to the ruin was now in my hands! It was freshly written, as one did not even exist. Now, perhaps Linchester wished to win my favor, or maybe he is simply a fool, yet, speaking on the behalf of the Fraustian faith, he gifted me his reward while also allocating funds from the Church's own coffers into the tower's reconstruction.

 I suppose, if one wants to sell a lie, one aims to make it a truth. However, if he wishes to buy me, he would have to sacrifice more, than just a few coins.

 Does he take me for a fair, virgin maiden? Oh, please...

 He is someone to look out for, however, as I suspect he aims for the seat of Lockrifta's ruler.

 Now I donned recognition as part of Lord Heimerichs Court, while still being under Bishop Linchester. Meaning, I help no voice, for now. Still, I could do as I pleased for the time being, and that is all I had wished for.

 With the deed neatly tied, with a green ribbon in my satchel and the tower's construction underway, according to my schematics, of course, I found myself roaming the alleys of books within the mansion's library. It had been a while since I could ease myself into peaceful absorption of knowledge, much like You are doing now. However, it was not something as simple, as reading philosophy or medicine.

 I had to make it absolute, that a World Scar would open up here. My strange Astral body growth was a big enough hint, but I had to be sure the odds are in my favor.

 This led me down the intriguing path of Lockrifta's history. This thriving hamlet seems to not only be the main source of Vistar's fish trade and a growing metropolis but also stood atop an ancient city.

 What's more, the first settlers write, how the city seemed to have been sunken in dirt and rock, leaving only rooftops and chimneys above ground. And a tower, which was later repurposed as a lighthouse, only to be abandoned for no known motive. One scholar speculates the tower originated from a castle and the cliff it stood on, to be a buried castle. However, further investigation bore no fruit, and the reasons for the sunken buildings have been also left a mystery.

 I would be inclined to agree with such a theory. The hollowness of the floor, and the strange schematics on the wall, indicate something of that nature. It's not that there is a cave system within the cliff, but a whole palace!

 A sunken city! A castle within a cliff! A mysterious reason for the abandonment of a perfectly operational lighthouse! This was the place. The World Scar would soon come!

 And Oh! How right I was.

 Naturally...

 Turns out, when it comes to odd occurrences, Lord Heimarichs lands hold no shortage.

 One of which, being the walking dead.

  The reports about dead bodies climbing out of their graves, or crawling out from the alleyways were, indeed, true. Those who had died ages ago, and those who had perished recently- this mysterious phenomenon did not discriminate. During cloudless nights, the dead would rise, and walk to the outskirts of town. I bore witness to one such event, during the 3rd day of Lady Brigette's treatment. I sent Arvel to investigate, even though he barely kept his nerve.

 Servos, the cat, seemed on edge as well, for once. She sat at the window, a strange tension in her pose. There is a belief, that animals have the uncanny ability to glance beyond the merely obvious. Perhaps there's some merit in such superstition.

 My scout informed me, that the dead seemed to flock toward the nearby woods, bringing with them deceased wildlife as well.

Truly indiscriminate!

 It didn't take long, for Lord Heimerich to call for a gathering, to inquire about a possible explanation and solution to such blasphemy. Such a question was, of course, directed towards the Church of Fraust. More accurately, me and Linchester. The Bishop was keen on blaming it all on a demonic curse, which had plagued the land, where only a culling of the unfaithful could solve it.

 An obvious provocation, for me, the knowledgable and capable one, to find a solution. I simply proposed a scouting expedition, to see where the dead gather and perhaps unearth the reason as to why. The basis of any research- observation.

To think they'd resort to slaughter before actual investigation... Idiocy!

 The Lord and the Bishop agreed, and the latter was quick to appoint me the head of this research. Be it to exercise the ''power'' he held over me or because his faith in the Prophet's protection had run dry, I cared little for it. However, I agreed, as this phenomenon was something I had never even read about before, much less experienced.

 And as a Scholar, it would be a sin to not gather as much knowledge as I possibly can!

 The expedition was set, right after I finished the last procedures on the Lord's wife, and my tower had officially begun construction. Once the conditions were met, I grabbed 2 of the Lord's men, the Bishop sent 2 paladins to spy on me, I'm sure, and I grabbed Arvel, who clutched his crossbow like a child would a toy. Then again, in his hands, it isn't anything beyond a plaything.

 The six of us set out into the woods, looking for the dead, who could not rest in peace.

 The expedition began at nightfall where clouds scarcely dotted the sky, and the recently dead were laid at the edge of town, as per my request. Many seemed displeased with such a ''disrespect'', however, they'd rise anyway, so a burial mattered little. The same lowborn who disagreed gathered to witness this death parade with bated breaths.

 As expected, the very moment stars punctuated the night, the corpses stood on their feet. They made no sound, did not even acknowledge our presence. Even a touch could not disrupt their advances.

 While tracking the undead, I conducted several inquiries into their behavior.

 Firstly, they do not seem to be held together by any supernatural means, as once a limb was removed, it would lay still, while the rest of its body moved undisturbed.

 The paladins attempted to stop the body in its tracks, yet as its motion had ceased, the body fell limp... As a corpse should, I suppose. This proved, that whatever force ruled them, required motion to function.

Like a marionette, perhaps.

 To support my claim, a decapitated body still kept its pace, avoiding trees and climbing over bushes, as if they did not require eyes to see. it was clear a sentient master was behind this.

 The question remained, who?

 Another hour passed, as we stalked the dead until their rotten throats began making sounds and as if possessed by sudden vigor, they picked up their pace. After another half an hour, they had begun a full sprint.

 It had become near impossible to keep up, as they maneuvered among the trees and brush better than any experienced hunter.

 We lost the walking dead among the sounds of disturbed wildlife and night-covered woods. To add insult to injury, one of the paladins had fallen victim to a hunter's trap and maimed his leg. The efficiency of the undead's ability to bypass such contraptions only reinforced my theory of a mastermind. Someone who knew these woods well.

 One of Lord Heimerichs soldiers took the paladin back to town, as the 4 of us explored deeper. Our journey through the dark was uneventful and cautious, as none wished to fall prey to the paladin's fate. However, with my masterful leadership and navigation prowess, we eventually came across our assumed target. Lured by strange vibrations, originating ahead of us. These ripples, which only crossed the Astral plane, thus only felt by Yours Truly, gave out an almost menacing rhythm.

 I must say, the previously unresponsive corpses lunging at us from the darkened brush, had been... slightly frightening. I believe one of my escorts might have even let out quite a high-pitched cry... Who it was, has oddly slipped my mind!

 The sudden, proactive aggression of the undead had thrown the 3 men into a frenzy. The paladin was first to fall, in quite a gruesome manner, I might add, and after the second guard had lost his jugular to another dead man's jaws,  Arvel had finally shrugged off his frightened stupor. His chosen action had been to release the crossbow bolt into the forest, as he missed all 5 of the rotting corpses and a few of the closest tree trunks.

 Luckily for him, I stay level-headed no matter the circumstance and knowing the direction of the potential cause of such an anomaly, my action of departing the scene had proven fruitful.

 The failure of a crossbowman would later complain, of me leaving him for death, yet I was fully confident in his ability to defend himself long enough, for me to reach safet- the mastermind behind it all!

 Oh, and what a mastermind it was!