The curse and the dwarf

The last diary entry

I was born in the town of Puit. My father Torukk raised me the best he could, and he did a very good job on his own. Excuse me, I should introduce myself. I am named Eion, pronounced E-O-wen. My hair be long and dark purple, with the ends fading do midnight blue. My eyes are of my mother, a deep ruby red, and my voice is of my father. Smooth and deep, more noticeable since I am a female. My race is small and our cities are too few and far between to be fully recognized, so we are seen as men. However we do have a name. We are the Mahlkai. A race of people who live to the length of dwarves, with the small bodies of hobbits and the features of elves. Although I have never seen them, I wish to one day.

Our people practice magic, albeit simple. Most of our people are in the trade of fireworks and such entertainments. We are the best, but we are all gone. Why, you ask? Well, a dark, evil creature haunted our town. For months we fought against it with kindness and charms. However, its power proved to be too great t9 handle, and we resolved to seal it in a figurine, and send it to the bottom of the waters that surround our island. Tomorrow is to be the ceremony. Hopefully it works, for this creature can make anything shake, and does not take injury long. It heals as fast as a blink, although it seems that the shaft that pierced its eye left a mark, and it is now half-blind. Tricky to stab it. Unfortunate costs made.

Oh, apologies. My race is one that speaks bluntly, and we often forget the words between the beginning and where we mean to end. I must go now, but I will return. Hopefully someone will read this when I pass.