Cath Bedraud is not as I remember it. Where I once marveled at the serene grace of this testament to our beloved ancestors, I now gape in horror at what the place has become. Marble statues of long dead heroes lie broken before the desecration of Angof's corruption. Where noble supplicants bowed heads in reverence to their ancestors, shambling corpses lurk behind every headstone to tear at the throats of the living! Even the lawns, once verdant and bright with flowers of mourning, lie blasted and torn amid the pestilence of the Bloodthorn. — Lieutenant Alouis Jascie