Willing servitude and cowardice time and time again. My Sultan and grace; forgive the weakness and fear I experienced. I am greedy to live and to linger when was no my time, for a traitor until the end, beyond the grave I have become. Is there no scruples left in my person?

The blessing of that angel came a little too late. Is it Allah who is punishing me with the knowledge I could have been spared from the scheme if I had endured the torment to test my faith?

My brother mustn’t know this. I prefer to become a gold statue in Mammon’s collection than allow him to find out my humiliation.


A-Ah. It’s cold… and I hunger.

((OOC: Radu so faked to have been resurrected with the rest. He was brooding since Mammon left him out, after striking a deal. Now he’s playing along. Strikeouts deleted)).

The avaricious man is poor, even if the whole world is his.

This is my punishment and the sin I am victim of? How laughable! I’m finally treated as if royal blood runs in my veins!

Allah… Jahannam is unlike the descriptions I am familiar with. There is not a black fire, sixty-nine times greater than the normal flame. There is absolutely no fire in this realm, what glimmers around me are gold and precious gems. The walls, the floor, the ceiling - every inch of this room is a piece of treasure.

My punishment is the most fortunate of all.

Three entries in this scroll journal.

Three brothers who had forsaken their grace and their religion for the sake of prolonging their vile lives. They should not accuse me of traitor with that knowledge in mind.

I am your better, the loyal to my death. There is nothing any of you could do to intimidate me with your devilry.

My congratulations to the host of the Gala, the meal and diversion were blessings to bid a year farewell.

In the nature of rebirth and celebration, my spirit was weary and sought a steady shelter located to the South. And, miracles of miracles, the layout shifted to a familiar sight! Blessed be my eyes to behold it!



As the old phrase goes:

“The one who leaves his house is lost. And the one who returns is newly born.”

Allah has smiled upon me.

((OOC: Yes, that’s Castle Bran, beloved Draculas. ;P Your old castle)).

Allah… The superstitious tales were accurate since the beginning and I refused to listen to them during my youth. Discounting that knowledge, I will resort in my wits to dispel the mystery that Vlad (Vlads?) is posing. Mmm. How could he be… so weak?

The taste of a bittersweet meeting could only be forgotten by replacing the hardships with beautiful memories. The common folk and nobility alike have been passing the word of a festive. A court celebration to honour the passing of the year. I could subscribe to the practice if I find a suitable partner to accompany me that evening.

I would be generous in rewarding my companion in exchange of the pleasure of the company.

((OOC: Strikeouts gone!)).

Curious scroll. Poorly fitting for someone of my status. It lacks gold and gems incrusted on the surface. It doesn't shine enough to blind those who gaze upon it with its splendor.

Death was the most unpleasant activity I have experienced but it happened and now all is forgotten to the comfort of Paradise. The insidious Christian’s Disease was unbearable in its last stages and the physicians could not aid with my ailing.

In the end, we're lonely. Death doesn't forgive beauty.

This layer of Jannah wasn’t described in the Qu’ran. I don’t see the cold garden and fresh streams of food and drinks, or the houri assigned to me. Perhaps, death hasn’t taken me yet and my mind has conveyed the illusion of release.