This note is found as a random drop from Chthonic Cultists in The Blood Grove and Darkvale Gate.

Life among the Bloodsworn has required some changes to our little family, mainly that we can only see the children after the day's rituals and chores are finished, which usually last late into the evening. Some days I don't see them at all until they are already asleep. My husband is having a difficult time with the prayers, he calls them blasphemous filth, but I remind him that we are doing this for our family's survival.

Myself, I cannot help but question the gods who have given us nothing except poverty. But here, under the protection of Ch'thon, we are safe and fed. The Bloodsworn have given us everything they had promised, and more. All they ask in return is our devotion and a little bit of blood.

So I can't help myself when I chant a little louder each morning as I sing my praises to Ch'thon. The cuts from the ritual knife serve as a gentle reminder that we are still alive and not rotting out in the wilderness. It feels...good. By Ch'thon, it feels good...

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