“In a work of countless numbered tomes, made by an immortal from the east before the coming of Shapers, and mostly lost to the crush weight of time. It is said that the stone born sun, golden crowned and married to the night, once in a moment of wounding, grasping the corpse bound cart, let himself be struck down to live again. In this hollow era, it is a sentiment shared by many across the world. As one once could not command the stars, oceans nor mountains to kneel, but for the shaping touch of megadeath weapons yield. Is it sentimental vanity to wish again for such unmoveable pillars, or commendable aspiration for those whom still cling to life? Few women of Siol have I met, that would not fight to the death.” -From the writings of Sain Ein Laindred.