Post

An ice cold wind howls through the canyons, then atop the trees, and finally at the feet of a cloaked silhouette on a ridge overlooking Novus Lucidum.

Peeking from the front of the silhouette's cloak are his hands, and within them is a stone tablet. The tablet has deteriorated, with moss growing over most of the words, leaving it nearly incomprehensible. Only the words "ten pillars" are visible.

The silhouette pulls back the long hood of his cloak, exposing the face of the hermit. With a gaze of determination, albeit with a feeble stature, the hermit calls out:

Dàxlam never dies