Memory of Magranite Incantations

This text of collected incantations is blurry to the point of illegibility, as if the White Void had stripped the ink of any meaning. It might still mean something to one of the denizens of Rymrgand's realm.

A short passage scribbled in the margins stands out with clarity:

"Let the scholars bicker over how we crammed a piece of Waidwen's soul into the bomb. A little uncertainty never hurt anyone. I only care that the damn thing goes off on time."