“You have slain a centaur. Experience awarded.”

“Congratulations you have gained levels.”

“You have found an ‘Ancient weapon of Suramar’. The weapon is currently bound to no owner. Would you like to bind it?”

The first few messages were familiar and expected, but the last one got to Marcel. He looked at the trident. Was it the ancient weapon of Suramar? What the hell was Suramar?

He mentally agreed to the message. The trident shrunk in front of his eyes. Instead of being two full heads taller than him, it suddenly only reached from the floor to his chin. Exactly the same height as his spear. A surge of energy went out from the trident and pulsed through Marcel.

“You have bonded with the [Ancient Weapon of Suramar].”

“You have unlocked the Aspect of the Ancient Weapon*”

“[Ancient Weapon of Suramar]: Gives +2 to all stats.

Soul bound: Can be recalled or dismissed from the owner at any time.

Effect: Lord of Domains. Domain specific skills have decreased mana costs when used inside the domain. Effects can also be activated and channeled for a slightly diminished strength when outside of domain. The effectiveness fall off decreases with growing mastery of the skills.

A big smile spread over Marcel's lips.

He ventured through the centaurs cave again. Finding it again for the second time, despite his wild dash through the forest, was even easier than before. Again it was the smell of horse manure that led him there. Although after his experience in the back chamber of the cave, Marcel had to conceive that there were indeed worse smells.

Once again he was led by the light of his Lumistone. This time he let it shine as bright as it could, channeling a large amount of mana into it. There was no reason to be afraid still. So Marcel took his sweet time.

He searched through the things he found at the entrance at the cave, stripping the centaurs' old possessions of all belongings that seemed somewhat useful to him. Luckily it didn’t take long to find a second bag in the midst of all the assortments the centaur had hoarded, one that was even bigger and nicer than his.

By the time he made it to the centaurs private chamber, it was already filled to the brim with all sorts of things. Some daggers in good quality, some adventuring equipment like compasses, lumistones, and other useful tools, and of course also coins. And not a small amount of coins. With everything that he found between the loose coins scattered across the floor, the contents of purses, and of hidden pockets, Marcel guessed he had found over four gold coins in total.

Enough to buy his whole flat.

It gave his mood a big step up. The truly interesting part came in the centaurs office chamber though. There wasn’t much in terms of storage there, nor did Marcel think he would find things of much value here. But there was one thing that still interested him.

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He peaked over the edge of the desk and saw it laying there. Unperturbed by the fate of it’s owner.

The small purple booklet.

Now he was able to read what it said. In its filigrane lettering, it said: Diary.

Marcel needed a moment to process this. This was so absurd that Marcel almost had to laugh. This whole situation was just getting more and more surreal.

The inhuman parts of the creature had shown especially in their battle. He had suspected before that the thing was more monster than human, but seeing the last chamber had truly hammered that home.

So what would the writing of a creature like that look like?

Marcel climbed upon the table and, after confirming that the old wood held his weight, sat down cross legged and picked up the book. He inspected the lock. He didn’t fancy searching around for the key. Maybe the centaur was carrying it on his body, but Marcel didn’t feel like going back to confirm. Luckily he had another option.

He wordlessly picked a small amulet out of his backpack. It opened with a click. He pressed a copper piece into it, closed it again and channeled some mana. There was a soft hum as he held it over the lock of the book. For a few seconds nothing happened, then the book sprang open.

Marcel was surprised by what greeted him. Rows of neatly written characters, neatly drawn. And not just any characters, but english.

It didn’t take long for him to realize what he was reading. A diary. This thing had written a diary?

For a second Marcel had qualms about what he was doing. He felt like he was invading privacy. Reading another person's diary was simply something one didn’t do. But then again, the centaur hadn’t been a person. At least not for Marcel.

He continued reading.

There were three things that sprang out at Marcel. First, the centaur didn’t just have a filigrane handwriting, it was downright ridiculous. The most ardent girls he had seen at school didn’t have a handwriting nearly as neat as the beast. Each letter looked drawn with meticulous care and was almost like a little art work in itself. Although the dots on the i’s looked uncomfortably close to hearts for Marcel. Probably just a coincidence, he hoped.

Secondly, the content of the diary entries was in direct juxtaposition to what the lettering was. He, for Marcel was reassured through the texts the centaur saw himself as a he, described his fights and embodiments in gory detail. From the way he fought his victims, to the way he captured and disemboweled some of them. Marcel had to skip over a lot of pages.

Lastly, the most important thing Marcel learned through the monster's diary was that it had kept a good radar on the surrounding monsters and their activities. He read about goblin hordes the centaur had encountered to the west of the forests, down towards some lowly bandits the centaur had killed himself. As a monster that spent most of his day roaming, the centaur had encountered a lot.

He talked about some monsters and the way he killed them that was vastly beneficial to Marcel. There were at least three different methods for baiting wolves described that would’ve made some of his missions quite a lot easier.

In short the diary was a treasure trove of information on how monsters worked and how they could be killed. It described the long and arduous process of the centaurs cultivation journey.

The one that Marcel had ended. Everytime he remembered that fact, and connected the centaur with the writing she saw in front of him, he felt bad for a split second. Then he remembered the chamber only a few meters away from him. That made him feel at peace with his acts again.

He also marveled at the usefulness of the diary he was holding. The insights into the centaurs cultivation journey held real value for Marcel. Especially because he was also talking about a few monsters roaming around that he had been planning to hit.

Some of which promised not just some experience, but also pay offs. Apparently the centaur wasn’t the only semi sentient beast claiming bounties for itself. From the way the centaur described it, it almost sounded like some of those might not even be guild listed.

An idea started taking root in Marcel's head.