This I ask...

Who can bottle my wild, obsidian flames and harness my powers for warmth but not destruction? Who, when I have scaled great shiver-peaks and quested the crystal deserts?

Worn staves, with I, have dawned this corridor. I am ascended. Armor, adorned, are now tattooed to my very soul. I have been infused. I too have been there, yes, beyond Hell’s precipice and back again.

Who, then, could don my fleeting shadow and my sinuous footpaths? Who, now, may liberate my dreams and forerun my passion?

…you, Trey. I yield but to you, amigo.


Speaking of something fun; I just saved the world AGAIN! No. Enough, now… I need no thanks.