I am Barabbas and I have never had need to keep a journal, until now.

My cough grows worse, and I almost tripped in the stairwell yesterdaywhile running the tower rounds. Had Horace not been there to brace me Iwould have surely fallen and broken an arm off. He is a loyal pet, andone of my few friends here in my final days.

These words I pen are my accounts of my preperations. I have lived avery long time, longer than my family or my friends, but in my lifetimeI have never experienced a feeling such as this slowly stirring throughmy body…

I am dying. I do not know how I am aware of this, but I do not fearit. I have lived long and accomplished much. My time has come and nowI must prepare. It was my hope to find an apprentice to pass my towerand its wonders down to, but none of them seemed worthy. Perhaps I wastoo picky, but I did not wish for my tower to fall into the hands of anapprentace who would not continue my work. My labratory is thebirthplace of new life. New plants and animals, new spells for theSphere of Life and Earth and new ways to combine the two.

I wish for my research to continue. I have discovered in many creaturesI study that their forms seem to be missing components, as though theywere suited for some greater task or pieces of a larger puzzle. It hasbeen my hope that by combining certain forms with others than I mayunlock this mystery. I wish I could continue working on this task untilI breathed my last, but I cannot be selfish. The work is what isimportant.

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I have sent my apprentaces away. They are unworthy of my work and I donot wish them to know my secrets. As soon as I felt the footfalls ofthe final one leave my domain I erected the sandstorm, a ritual I hadbeen building up for several weeks. I believe that it will beself-sustaining as long as it remains on the ground I have prepared. Itwill be my locked gate and my curtain. None must see my preperations.

The animals are my greatest worry. Caring for them taxes me greatly asI am only one man. I believe I have developed a means of preservingthem but it will cost me precious time and energy. I dearly hope thatthe sand spirits will grant me enough to complete my task.

Tomorow I shall begin in the garden.

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As much as I regretted doing so, I believe that it was a wise decisionto place the animals in storage first. My tower is silent now but mycreations will sleep until awoken either by accident or by my sucessor. To dissuade looters (should they make it past the sandstorm) I have putmy first set of statues in the head of the amber corridor. The sandlions are one of my most viscious creations and any looters who seek totry to carry one off will find themselves being ripped to shreds as theyawaken with the first drop of blood.

I have no pity for looters. My tower is a place for new knowledge… if people come here only to take my work from me then they shouldprepare to feel the teeth of the ruby or the tug of the amber as they aredevoured.

There is so much more to do. I must conceal my labratory and finish therest of the traps.

How much time do I have left?

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(Here the handwriting grows more shaky and is more difficult to read)

The staircase is complete and I have hung the last of the fish in theaquarium chamber. I have tried to set my traps so that a brash personwho knows nothing of my sphere would never be able to make it all theway through.

My arms are on fire and my voice is but a whisper. Sands give mestrength…

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(The writing in the final entry is almost impossible to read)

… done… seal laboratory… today…

Time to rest… hope I have strength…

… one final ritual… rest…

Legacy. Forever. Farewell