the eighteenth hour, April 7th 07 Be sure, Despairialindrid endures the throes of civilization. Among the many grim and tiring wends of two thousand and six, the latter months ensured little time for 'creation' as it were. Rather, I have spent a great amount of time idling in the ways of mere men. Gone are the forests from whence the first premonitions of Scry issued, removed is the maker from his woodland abode - but calm, I have taken the necessary steps to ensure the survival of the dark tapestry.

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