Molistead arrived exactly on time. Namon’Shoon was right, as always. That they entered what is now called the Path of the Dead is impressive. The way they handled the lesser boneyard was comical. I will forever associate a wave of bones with the white cloaked human. Perhaps I will use his bleached bones and cloak to parody the image. My lord would like that, I think.

I believe they will handle my Bakamano with little trouble. There were many more than I was lead to believe. The prophecies name three: Molistead and two guardians, one spiritual one material, one a sword against the magic, one raging magic to counter swords. I am perhaps the best deathdealer in Spritha, and Namon’Shoon is my lord, but he is crazy if he thinks my best work will come from such sloppy information.

I must alter my other tests in light of these others. I have given Molistead three months to search me out. I will await him at the Bones, and should he survive, he can face me there. If not, then his death will be worthless and will find him sleeping in the night. I need destroy only one of those in the prophecy, but it is his death my master has ordered. It matters little, for I will enjoy bringing death’s hand to his entire horde.