This day, I learned again what it means to feel hope. I was battered, driven back by the Watchers of the Abyss; my blood leaked warm and mournful across the stones, as their powerful blows staggered me. Then, a Hollow: a specter clad in gold, smashed through the door of fog, his blade a honeyed whirlwind that drove back those dark warriors.
At his side I vanquished them, blinded forevermore the Watcher's eyes. With my taciturn comrade at my side, Wolnir fell without more than pitiable resistance, his hands nigh severed beneath the ferocity of our strikes. As he crumpled, my comrade spoke: his name he revealed to be Or'do, slayer of the Cinder Lords much as I myself am tasked. Yet he like I chafes beneath the endless cycle, and I believe, that he like I, will break it.
