Hell is cold.
There is a misunderstanding among some, who think that burning is the worst thing that can happen, but I must correct this. The intellectual part of my cursed life wishes for the fire to take me, for I deserve no less, and long for the cleansing of the flame. Still, the instinct always takes over. The will to live, though living is not what this is. It is unlife. Immortal. Undead. Cold.
So these truths must remain. Hell is cold, and I am vampire.
I am always cold.
I am always in hell.
I have written other journals that I no longer have in my possession. I have already documented my life with Palina, until a devil took it all away from me, leaving only this curse as a reminder of his trespasses. As if Molag Bal had not caused enough pains in my life, a priest of his fooled me into thinking Palina alive, all in an effort to force me to accept who my master is. I destroyed him and his followers, and thought I had thwarted their plans. However, I now know they were the sacrifice to Stone Fire and I am now twice victim of the daedric prince of enslavement and domination.
Yet something has happened. Rumor speaks of a soulless hero who somehow weakened the master of Coldharbour, doing something I have not been able to do. In all truthfulness, have never really tried to do. I have spent many life times blaming the vampire that took my Palina, and my search for that devil has produced nothing. So now my attention is turned to my father, the real villain of my soul.
I am going to Coldharbour.
I am going home.
"Krist the Lionheart? No. Lionheart was my dog" -Krist
"Darling, if looks were everything, I would be king of the world" -Luke
"That place, between day and night, that purple color just before dark, that is where you will find me"- Hughe