That was a hazardous consultation of the Libre Mortis my Lord. An ordeal of high and low doom. The moment I approached the book, it bit me most ferociously.
I must appologize for the explosion that blew off the door of The Chamber Unbreachable, but the simultaneous emergence of seventeen demons from the book spine, caused the spiritual detonation in the soul stoned air of the room.
The whole enterprise was an experience most horrendeous. None but I could have endured it. I was almost damned twice. Even now my soul is twisted to a cork screw.
I suggest you keep the state of your soul to yourself, and inform us, instead, what you have gleamed from the Grimoire.
Hatred and prejudice will never be eradicated. And witch hunts will never be about witches. To have a scapegoat - that's the key. Humans always fear the alien, the odd. Once the mages had left Novigrad, folk turned their anger against the other races... and, as they have for ages, branded their neighbors their greatest foes.
And 'cause I was gazillionaire and I liked doing it so much, I cut that grass for free.
