A page of a journal (8)/Text

[This note appears to have been hastily written by a skilled hand]

This... this is the end for me... those shadows... I know the answer is behind that door, but my magical fire cannot harm the foulness that guards it. If only I had one of the firebombs that the alchemists make... I might... I might have... have... Tarlisha... you... monster... make you pay... [The note ends in unreadable scribblings, as though if the hand that held the pen was shaking wildly]