Even after all these centuries the words written in this journal cause my withered hands to tremble with the memories they invoke. Faces of old companions haunt my vision like ghosts, and my tears are like manifestations of phantasmal blood shed in service to our various patrons.

But I was young then, and did not fully understand the costs imposed by honor and duty.

~ Shade, so named for contrasts between the darkness in the minds of men and the cool respite found beneath the leaves of the pillars of nature