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"Death to cattle, death to kindred, death to every mortal man..."
The fell voice on the air echoed across the ruins of Fornost Erain...as it so often did.
The voice halted briefly over the broken Blossom.
"But one thing never dies...the good name of one who has won renown".
Alas poor friend...I would tarry a while to pay her a tribute of lament. But then we must gird our collective loins, be they animal, vegetable, mineral or ethereal, to heed the warning she left us...where to start looking? Not all of us are met, yet...
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Out went the candle, and we were left darkling
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