High Born Bastard

Ieridenth's chambers were small for his size, but they were his. Unlike the others of the Fallen Fallen who had to sleep and stay in the cavern commons, as leader, he was afforded a small space to call his own.  Here, he kept books piled at the side of his desk.  He had conjured them all, conjured the paper he used to write his notes, conjured the quill to write with, conjured the ink with which to write.  He knew a lot about this place and  was adept enough with his blades to fight when needed, magical enough to shatter demons when required.  Just not magical enough to figure out the riddles.

He'd found them in places, heavily guarded by demonic sentinels, portals black as the bowels of darkness.  He had yet to see any go through them, but he knew that's what they were.  He couldn't read the inscribed runes on the sides of the portals, and that  was his failing.  Just not skilled enough...

He pulled a large tome from the stack of books.  This one was different than all the others.  This one held all his personal papers.  He opened it, dusting the leaves of paper within, ready to add another to his collection.  He took a blank sheet and  dipped his quill:

By the favor of the old gods and the grace of the new, I knew I wasn't forgotten in the depths of this hell. Into my lap has fallen a gift in the guise of the planeswalker's son.  He claims he does not hold his father's gifts, but one cannot traverse planes under the tutelage of one so wizened as Telfenham was rumored to be and not have skill.  Whether or not he can use the planes, all I have need of is the trust of this Celestial and then his skill as a wizard in reading the runes that have eluded me for so long.  I shall be free in short order.  I may not be able to return home, but I shall not be forced to endure this place.  Such is my wish.  So it shall be.

He dusted this page, drying the ink, and placed it in the tome. It shut with a satisfying "thunk" and he slid it on top of the books.  He leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, with a smug grin.  Hell was no place for a Celestial.