Foreword,
This journal is written with the intend to be found. I don't know if this will be after my passing or when I am still breathing yet these words must be read by someone.
I have been a weak man in recent years. Weak in body and even weaker in spirit. This journal is not as much for my own as it is for others. These words are the ones that I cannot say out loud, so they should be read to be known. I am too proud a man to directly say my sins.
It has been around six years since I am under the influence of a ring called Nîthoneth, the bane and savior of my life. I would have died without its embrace yet I wish that that was my fate on that day when I first touched it. Under his influence I have been a cruel and viscous man that has done unspeakable things. I did not do this because I am a bad man but because I am frail and a fool in my own right.
To those that I deem my kin and friends, even if you might not see me as one:
I am sorry for any words of displeasure or doubt that I might have said to any of you. You have been as a family to me when I was nothing but a fiend. I cannot make my actions right by any account, yet if any deserve the truth then it are you all.
