Description[]
Day 214
For the third syllable, the demon demands the unthinkable.
I am instructed to capture specimens of a twisted and diabolical race of Imps, using a pound of my own skin as bait.
Perhaps my old master was right, and I do not possess the fortitude to serve the Celestial Emperor. I have failed. Unless--
Day 221
I have returned from my foraging mission into the heart of the jungle. There, deep within a cave did I find a rare mushroom variety that promises both the anesthetic and hallucinogenic properties I require to fulfill what is asked of me.
Day 222
The mushroom didn't work. The pain was excruciating as I flayed myself, every strip of flesh removed, a new and fresh agony.
But the Imps came, drawn to the enclosures by the scent of my flesh and blood.
For this, Zalthiel revealed the third syllable: Mal.
