2nd of Sundus, Year 322 of the 4th Age

We got a new arrival yesterday with the trade caravan. Woman by the name of Mercy Warren. She seems a nice, older lady like myself. I hope to invite her for tea and see if she wouldn't mind showing me the secret behind her lovely skin. So youthful and vibrant! It would be a shame to lose such a gifted herbalist like her.

25th of Pelas, Year 322 of the 4th Age

Miss Warren's amazing! She's got poultices and salves for all sorts of ailments. Cid Siegen rubbed something she gave him on his paralyzed leg, told him to wait overnight; the man was walking by the next day! Talia Vina hasn't been able to speak since her house cought fire and she inhaled all the smoke. Mercy Warren tells her to mix this drop of liquid in her tea once in the morning and once in the evening, and the woman's suddenly a chatterbox three days later! She's a bloody miracle worker! I wish I had her skill!

26th of Pelas, Year 322 of the 4th Age

She's a nicer person than I expected. I asked if Mercy'd teach me how to do what she does, and she said yes without so much as batting an eye! Maybe she'll show me the secret for her youth ointment; she's been selling it for a fee to the more well to do ladies and gents around the village. Thirty shillings is kind of a lot for these parts, but at least the peasantry won't be getting any ideas about looking better than they are.

10th of Zenia, Year 323 of the 4th Age

It's been four months, and still I'm no closer to the formula. She's careful not to leave her notebook out even when she's teaching me, handling most of it through memory. Sharp as a tack, that one. I suspect she may be hiding something. Maybe there is no formula. Maybe she's a sorceress, or a warlock making pacts with dark forces. Bah, what a silly notion. I'm starting to sound like these superstitious hoodlums.

18th of Zenia, Year 323 of the 4th Age

Miss Warren, oh dear Miss Warren. She's so lovely, so precious, so sweet and kind. What a crock. She's no sweeter or more innocent than those priests you hear about, preaching against sin and debauchery one minute and getting caught financing a 'backdoor deal' with ladies of the night the next. That twisted succubus must be using her medicine to stay young. She claims to be nearing sixty and she barely looks a day over twenty! I think I've figured out the formula to the ointment she uses; claims it keeps your skin young looking and helps fight aging. We'll see about that after tonight. Time to test out my version.

19th of Zenia, Year 323 of the 4th Age

Curse that harlot! I applied it just like she says, three drops of ointment; one to each cheek and one on the forehead, rub it in gently and voila! I was so sure I did it right, but now? Boils, blisters, and pustules all across my face. I look like those witches they write childrens' books about! A pox on that stinking Mercy Warren, and all who use her ointment! I must acquire the real thing, and the formula with it, but how? She guards her secrets closely, like any other sorceress. Like a sorceress. Oh my, you naughty little minx! I've thought of the perfect fix to cure myself of that nasty little herbalist. This village is full of the stupid and uneducated to begin with. All they need is one little push!

20th of Zenia, Year 323 of the 4th Age

The fox is caught. I let Cid know the woman he believes to have healed his leg with her 'medicine' made the stuff with goat blood and a sacrifice of three robins. His face! Ha, such superstition is easily manipulated. He sent men up to collect her, and already they are at work extracting a confession of witchcraft from her. I can hear her screams as they press the brand to her face, the apotropaic mark searing into her flesh for life. Shame to mark such a lovely-Ha! Who am I kidding?! I've got to get up to her house quickly while they're still distracted with the 'witch'. The formula should be easy enough to find now. I can only hope it will cure my condition before they begin to suspect me as well.

21st of Zenia, Year 323 of the 4th Age

Gods grant me release from this pain. I stole the formula book she uses, but it must be written in some form of cipher. I tried to decode it, but I got a few words in before I gave up. I am cursed, forever cursed to live out my days in this torturous pain. For her part, Mercy Warren made no confession. But after branding her and cutting her face, the people decided the best thing to do would be to simply remove her from the village. She was exiled, left to wander the woods outside town. Good riddance, I say. She wouldn't share the secret, so let the beasts of the forest have her. I'll redo my formula as many times as it takes until I get it right.

21st of Ymir, Year 323 of the 4th Age

These superstitious fools. "She's come back! Mercy Warren's back from the grave to haunt us!" Bah! Mercy Warren's dead and gone by now, it's been a month since we heard from her, and I for one have no interest in playing these games. I'm hurting enough as it is without stupid jokes like that to make me laugh.

25th of Ymir, Year 323 of the 4th Age

Gods, it's true. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it. Mercy Warren stalking after some poor soul caught outside after dark. I don't think she saw me looking through the window, but I'd know that face anywhere. I could hear his screams as she tore him to shreds. The next morning, they found him mangled, and it was only then I realized the man she was following was Cid Siegen. I worry that I may be next, but only time will tell.

30th of Hanas, Year 357 of the 4th Age

I've been given the honorable position of a village elder. At last, an actual position of power that is mine and mine alone. Now I can dump that ridiculous fop I call my husband and consolidate our resources. A few choice words in the right ears here, a little scandal there, and everything he owns will become mine. Of course, with other ladies on the elder council, I will need to be careful of where I exert my influence. Wouldn't want one of them to think I was shopping for another old windbag. I prefer my meat younger and more tender.

25th of Dietro, Year 357 of the 4th Age

I've encountered a problem. I didn't realize my previous entry was to be taken so literally. I've modified the formula a bit. Youthful beauty with no outward effects, but it comes with a ravenous hunger. Not for steak or vegetables or bread. Flesh of my fellow citizens. I can't stop craving it, but I've managed to calm it somewhat by racking up my meat to store for later, taking little nibbles here and there. It tastes good, better than anything else I've ever had! It's even more mouth watering when I'm with a man and he gets that look right as his body sizes up in the throes of passion. I sieze my chance and gut him with the dagger I keep under my pillow, spilling his entrails while he's still linked to me. Delectable, delightful, exquisite. I must try to curb these desires, however. I'm not a monster, after all.

7th of Ymir, Year 384 of the 4th Age

I haven't written in this for so long. I honestly forgot I even had it. I've gone over sixty years without being taken by Mercy Warren. Somehow, that dreaded wraith is by far the easiest problem to deal with; just be indoors by nighttime, and no matter what, never open the door when she comes calling. The village of Paz has long been renamed Misery, a reminder of all this witch has left us with. The formula continues to elude me. In an attempt to get rid of the evidence, I've copied it down in the following pages and burned her notebook. If I can't use it, at least I'm the only one who has it. But over the last few decades, I've changed. I must keep my head wrapped up, can't risk being exposed. The pain is lessened by this gorgeous body of mine. I can handle hurting every waking moment if it means the men can't keep their eyes, or their hands, off of me. The sacrifice is mostly worth it.