Sarapin had come and gone, but with all the work going to landmarks, we
had been unable to complete the sacrifice demanded by the Lord of Evil,
we knew however that excuses were not permissable.

One of our own, a truly dedicated follower of Evil offered her mortal
body, to appease Sartan, and so we gathered at the Shrine of Evil, late
in our offering, but none the less swayed in our dedication to our Lord.

Deven was repeatedly beated, and whipped, her body smashed to the floor
by the worshippers around her, her pain a symbol of the power of Evil,
and she bore it well.

An almost pleasurable look took over her face, as religious fervour
overtook her, and yet the blows still rained down on her, striking her
again and again.

Her Velvet red dress was ripped from her body, exposing her naked flesh,
which was covered in a hundred bruises, welts and cuts.

'Karagath'na Unator Xenitho Malatal! May this offering appease thy
wrath, its blood quench thy thirst, its flesh fill thy belly! As this
land will fillith thee in the final day, Lord!' echoed across the land,
as the master of the ceremony, Sir Zhuge Liang-Leoghann, The Younger
raised a crooked dagger high above his head

'Makta ra,makta re,makta ru!' was the chant, travelling far across the
land, sending waves of both fear and anticipation among the people of
Sapience

Devens eye's now lost in the exctasy of the moment, seemed to lose
focus.

Binding her limbs and shrivelling her body, the followers of Sartan
further prepared their sacrifice for what was to follow, as prescribed
by the Lord of Evil.

Zhuge bore down his sacrificial blade with terrifying speed, cleaving
into Devens ribcage, whom, completely immersed in the exctacies of evil,
felt only a dull numbness within her.

'Thus shall the Lord cleave the world twain, and in that day shall Evil
rule' was shouted by the master of the ceremony, and many were the
praises to Sartan.

Penned by my hand on the 22nd of Aeguary, in the year 288 AF.