[The small book in which the following text was written was found at the bottom
of the Glomdoring chasm, as if it had been cast down from above. There was no
name written to accompany it, and the title it is given here was chosen by the
one who found it. The following is what was salvaged from the torn and stained
pages.]

~~~

I have woken from an age-old slumber to a world completely changed. The Holy
Celestine Empire has fallen. The Inner Sea barely retains its purity, while the
other - now called the Sea of Despair - is beset with foul things that lurk
within its dark depths. Two great cities in the vicinity have been lost, and an
entire forest has disappeared altogether. Magnagora has been defiled by the
alien remnants of the Almighty Soulless God. The foundations of its buildings
are being crumbled by a ravenous plague called the Taint, and the lands around
the city are now prowled over by foul, mutilated creatures. No one knows what
has happened to the world beyond the great mountains.

But the greatest horror that has manifested within the Basin of Creation, this
Basin of lingering life, spreads over the southern hills, where a dark wood now
stands where once there was vibrant greenery. The forest that was once my home
has been lost.

Gloriana, Gloriana, what has happened to you? Where have your sparkling streams
and your glades of wildflowers gone? What has broken the vibrant pride of your
once-tall ash and oak?

The birds no longer sing from your branches. The noble ravens that once spoke
to your people are gone, and invasions of devious crows have taken their place.
The wind whistles through you in harsh dissonance, bearing whispers of
malevolence. The trees that linger are choked with thorny vine and wreathed in
darkness. Foul creatures roam beneath your skeletal canopy - terrors formed of
dirt and brambles and vicious thorns. And the people... oh, blessed Viravain,
there are people here, wandering aimlessly over your broken ground, their
gruesome flesh rotting and dripping from their bones. Great Estarra, save their
souls, deliver them from this lingering state! Fates Three, cut their threads!
Give them peace! Have mercy and release their poor souls...

[The writing, growing increasingly unclear, becomes illegible for a couple more
lines before trailing off in dragging strokes. It continues anew a way down the
page, neater now, but in a slightly different shade of ink.]

I learn that my kin fled from beneath Gloriana's fair boughs before she fell.
Fates be thanked that they were spared the fate given to this forest.

~~~

There is an evil here. A foul presence that infuses the very air. I can feel it
through the ground beneath my hooves, and see it in the twisted forms of plant
life that struggle on in the darkness. It saturates the soil, undulates beneath
the bark of the trees. But yet... there is a power. Beneath the rot and cloying
decay, a power thrums incessantly, hungrily. I can hear it like the dull droning
of a swarm of summer bees. There is so much foul death here, but beneath the
rot, there is also life...

~~~

Oh, Yudhe, Great Raven is gone! The noble Great Spirit is no more, and in His
stead perches a foul, disheveled, oily-feathered beast. "Mighty Crow", it is
called, and the cries of its kin echo through Gloriana. Swarms of them block out
the skies and infest the branches, always watching, always scavenging. I fear
they would descend upon me in an instant were I to show any sign of weakness.

I sense also a change in Mother Night. No longer is Her descent upon the world
a gentle fading of the light of Sun. No longer does She bring a refreshing
coolness, or gently embrace Mother Moon's shining form. No - Her darkness falls
upon the land swiftly, eagerly, overpowering the light and vanquishing the last
rays of warm Sun. She chokes the shining Moon, and brings with Her a biting
chill - an icy coldness that penetrates to my heart and plants despair and fear
of what hides beneath Her veil.

No... Viravain save us, the Spirits I once knew are lost.

~~~

I do not know why I linger in this place. I long to see my kin again. I long to
feel the warmth of Sun on my face, to inhale the delicate aromas of lavender and
violet, not dwell in this gloom and decay.

But I cannot leave. Though the forest I once knew and loved has fallen, this
place, this region, is still my home. Despite what it has become, perhaps my kin
were fools to abandon it. For that is what they did! When Gloriana was
suffering, when the trees and the birds and the deer were being choked, my kin
turned their backs on her instead of standing to protect her like they were
sworn to do. In their weakness they forsook their home, fleeing with their tails
between their legs to save their own hides! Surely they deserve to share the
fate of the forest they abandoned.

~~~

...Sweet Night, I do not know why I thought those things. It is this perpetual
darkness. Even at the apex of His presence over the Basin, Sun's rays cannot
penetrate the shadow that looms over this forest, and at night I cannot gaze
properly upon the stars because most of them are hidden by the Night's heavy
darkness. I find myself watching the twisted creatures here, and I no longer
find them disgusting, but fascinating. There is... a shallow, morbid beauty to
them.

Other times I find myself lost in reveries as I listen to the incessant
screeching of the crows. The smells of decay and rot and foul swamp no longer
cloy my senses. There is certain sweetness to the odors.

~~~

I have spoken with some of the commune members of this age. One is a witch of
the new Night Coven. Truly, she is beautiful in a way I have never seen before.
I have witnessed the shadow dances of old, but never have I seen a mortal being
move in such a manner as this lady. Graceful, like the wind stirring ripples as
it dances over a still pond.

Also did I speak with a druid, a member of the forest-tenders that are now
called the Blacktalon. He was covered in the oily feathers of the Great Spirit
he serves, but he cares greatly for the forest. He showed me the beauty to be
found hidden beneath the rot and the decay, and taught me of the Wyrd - a
miraculous state of transformation, and the source of the power that thrums
through the forest.

Together, these two have given me much to meditate upon, and so shall I do.

~~~

Months have passed since I first woke from my heavy slumber. Since then, I have
danced in the darkness and listened to the crows. I have felt the pounding of
the Drums of the Dead within me, and heard the echoing response beat by my
heart. I find this place endearing. I was a fool to think that it foul, and
blind to be displeased.

Gloriana is gone, but the new forest that stands in her place is a glorious
one. My kin can rot in the northern forest as they dwell in the past, and I
shall flourish within this transformed entity, this superior form of Nature.

I shall protect her with my life, and serve her with the same. I shall have no
mercy for those who attack her. I shall do all that I can to bring her glory,
and spread her beauty throughout the world.

F'ai Glomdoring.