[Master_Sarevok]

Hadrian, 1852.

A month since I arrived to the frontier...

I have settled in nicely into the rough and savage town. In the day, commoners and beggars alike mingle about their day as I and other adventurer sorts go about on tasks, ranging from the common errand boy to dealing with wolves or undead threats. Even an occasional orc or goblin raid, has yielded me both god and knowledge. I have far surpassed my master in the short time I have been here and I am confident my powers will only grow more in time.

However despite my growing power I am still considered a nobody, or worse a bigger. Despite my apparent skill and intellect. If I want to prove myself I must take grander steps. I will petition the Arcanist Guild to give me a test and seek to join their ranks. Once I am there I feel certain I will gain some respect; and if not the access to their more restricted sections will be a boon.

I have also begun keeping tabs on many people I meet. I have already met a number of people who may be of use to me. I must wait for a time still, but I feel soon I will be ready to lay out my plans to them.

Things have certainly changed for me since I arrived here. And to think not long ago I was a newly neophyte arcanist, so eagerly stabbing my former master to death. Sometimes when I close my eyes...I can still see the knife stabbing over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over. It brings a smile to my face each time I see the knife sink in. Over and over and over and over and over.

[Master_Sarevok]

Hadrian, Arcanist Guild. 1852.

I am a neophyte of the Arcanist guild and have begun my studies into true magic. No more will I be regulated to half measures, I will learn what Archmages know. My master never could have given me this, killing him was the best decision I made. Though leaving home without much fanfare, has no doubt caused my family no good deal of troubles. My father especially will probably not take kindly to me killing the man he practically bent over backwards to train me.

But this is of no concern. They are the family of a man who is long dead now, indeed such is perhaps more truth then I find comfort to think about. But they remain, and I feel it is best if this slate was cleaned completely. Nothing of the past should remain.

I hope my father appreciates the welcoming I sent him, when he does finally track me down.