"Streams of fresh and delightful waters, which natives desirously yearn for, are the countenance of Lies, whilst honest Truth is as rivers of blood. Yet all brooks, both falsehood and honesty, run their courses to converge into the large and blooded ocean of Reality and sovereign Truth.
When blood meets water, blood must triumph; all countenance of lies will end in the grave reality of truth."
~
Western Culvert of the Under-ground Dungeons,
Steep Cliff Face of Shillingston,
Kingdom of Tristendyre,
The first Phrinight of the Second month,
XXI Year of Regency
Consciousness and unconsciousness warred to claim property over her darkling senses. Wakefulness prevailed, for there were frigid drops of water on her eyelashes trickling down her wet face.
