About: Caecilius's Journal   Sponge Permalink

An Entity of Type : owl:Thing, within Data Space : 134.155.108.49:8890 associated with source dataset(s)

Strange movements in the sky. I thought I saw the Guardians appear for a moment. The Warrior, the Mage, the Thief. And then they flickered and vanished. I have a sickening feeling deep in my stomach, as if this is an omen of things to come. Consulted the tomes of the Star-Scryer. Nothing but vague prophecies of the stars falling from the sky, portending doom. Nothing speaking to this specific sign. We are afloat on a foreign sea, without a chart or astrolabe to guide us to safer shores. Our own Guardians have disappeared, abandoned us. Woe to us, children of a bitter age.

AttributesValues
rdfs:label
  • Caecilius's Journal
rdfs:comment
  • Strange movements in the sky. I thought I saw the Guardians appear for a moment. The Warrior, the Mage, the Thief. And then they flickered and vanished. I have a sickening feeling deep in my stomach, as if this is an omen of things to come. Consulted the tomes of the Star-Scryer. Nothing but vague prophecies of the stars falling from the sky, portending doom. Nothing speaking to this specific sign. We are afloat on a foreign sea, without a chart or astrolabe to guide us to safer shores. Our own Guardians have disappeared, abandoned us. Woe to us, children of a bitter age.
dcterms:subject
lorebook
  • No
skillbook
  • No
FullTitle
  • Caecilius's Journal
dbkwik:elder-scrol...iPageUsesTemplate
dbkwik:elderscroll...iPageUsesTemplate
Author
collection
Title
  • Caecilius's Journal
abstract
  • Strange movements in the sky. I thought I saw the Guardians appear for a moment. The Warrior, the Mage, the Thief. And then they flickered and vanished. I have a sickening feeling deep in my stomach, as if this is an omen of things to come. Consulted the tomes of the Star-Scryer. Nothing but vague prophecies of the stars falling from the sky, portending doom. Nothing speaking to this specific sign. We are afloat on a foreign sea, without a chart or astrolabe to guide us to safer shores. Our own Guardians have disappeared, abandoned us. Woe to us, children of a bitter age. When our children fall, who will catch them? For they are all orphans, Their mothers died in childbirth, Their fathers died in war. Like the beggar on the street, They beg for food and receive scorpions.
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