Midwinter Night, 1183 D.R.
A part of me feels guilty for having tricked by brother into such a crime... but it was necessary: I am growing old and my research it not done. These northern wastes are a brutal land but so full of magic! If only I could be undying, then my studies could go on unhindered by this call of mortal flesh.
I can hear Quint's voice cutting through the walls as he reads to the children in the Library. I can hear their laughter. Belial says they must die tonight. All of them, all the children of Charwood... It is a grim task but for a greater good, I swear to it. There must be blood tonight if I am to bind my soul to the phylactery.