GANDRODI - The Path of Green Shadow

Now, once again, the wild winds of Gandrodi blow from west to east...

As the shadows hiding in Yafren forests become scorched, even the reigns of tyrants who sank their claws into Nimgad shake. Every corner of the island kingdoms trembles with the message of the ancient messenger. The cold breath of time walks; the stone roads of the Zifars mountains bear witness to its steps.

Sometimes the hunter opens his eyes in a grove, sometimes in the midst of shadowy storms. Sometimes he hears the voices of his old comrades, sometimes he sees the despair of his faint enemies. And the story of an invasion unfolds on the pages, just before it fades away. Because the lifespan of the truth is very short, it has always been so. That is why people have used stories for centuries. Some, to extend this very short life of the truth; and some, to conceal, veil, or even distort the truth. Yet some traces remained on the walls of the distant caves, which they supposedly called prophecies. Some of those traces were telling of light and darkness. They were narrating death and life, without making any fuss, very calmly.

-Letter to the Mountain of Elders, Yafren - (No Date Written)

~

"Lives spread across Gandrodi on the endless rivers of time. As the waters rise, shallops and dinghies approach the docks of some, but they beg for big sailing ships. When everything is over, there isn't a single branch to hold onto, let alone a ship to board.

Some others are deceived by the burning flame in their hearts, and they throw themselves into the floods. The flame within them flickers a few times before dying out, and time wrenches off whatever remains."

-The Wanderer

~

"It was strange that humanity would tell tragic stories, draw sorrowful pictures, and sing touching songs, born from its own deeds."

-The Historian