I remember it, as if it was yesterday. The smell, the texture, the overwhelming feel of dread, as I laid my weary eyes upon its leathery binding. It really feels like yesterday. But it's been close to 20 years now. The `Book of Dread`. Written many, many centuries ago in the gobi desert, by the mad Caliph Abril Ab Hazreds on Human skin. Human skin he harvested himself. How he harvested, you might ask? I will not talk about the atrocities he committed. He collected all the rituals and spells he could acquire into that abomination. And I want to have it. I want to learn the spells and perform the rituals. To Ascend.

Last summer I was able to track down a translation of said 'book'. It belongs to the austrian curriosity collector `Charles Kneipzach`. He does not live all that far from me. I plan to pay him a visit in the next few days...