The last day of December.

My breath is short and my throat is dry with thirst, but I'm finally here.
The land of dead, bearing the scars of war.

The shattered Temple of Light seems to sigh, its breath like a fine dust.

Why did I come here?

I wanted to conquer this place, for a reason even I couldn't say.

But now I know why.
It's because this place beckoned to me.

A Romantic Adventurer, Peregrin Huga III.