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Lore:Confessions: Difference between revisions
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[[File:LoreConfess.png|300px|thumb]] | [[File:LoreConfess.png|300px|thumb]] | ||
'''Confessions''' is a [[Lore]] book introduced in ''[[Season of Opulence]]''. It contains | '''Confessions''' is a [[Lore]] book introduced in ''[[Season of Opulence]]''. It contains records from [[Match]], a high ranking [[Loyalist]] [[Psion]], during the exile of [[Emperor Calus]]. Entries are unlocked from finding and picking up intricate vases found in the [[Menagerie]], [[Crown of Sorrow (raid)|Crown of Sorrow]] [[Raid]], and one in the [[Tribute Hall]]. | ||
__TOC__ | __TOC__ | ||
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==Entry I== | ==Entry I== | ||
By the mind of Match, Shadow [[Councilor]] to the | By the mind of Match, Shadow [[Councilor]] to the True Emperor. Upon the [[Leviathan]], helpless to alter its course. Today I pour out water from the Y-Goblet, so that my ancestors may wash their eyes. My every thought and purpose for my Emperor, Calus, once and future sovereign. | ||
We pass through the outer marches of our lost empire. One day the Leviathan howls along at speed, and the next it drifts on an idle course. We still cannot repair the butchered control systems, and our Emperor, who once ordered this ship's construction for his purposes, refuses to share his knowledge in metaconcert. | We pass through the outer marches of our lost empire. One day the Leviathan howls along at speed, and the next it drifts on an idle course. We still cannot repair the butchered control systems, and our Emperor, who once ordered this ship's construction for his purposes, refuses to share his knowledge in metaconcert. | ||
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"That, Match, is the wrong question." He tuned the observation room to track a single tumbling mirror. In life, the sail had been as wide as the space between a world and it's moon; in death, the rigging had collapsed into a thistle of spinmetal and glint. "What you should ask is why I am so glad they died!" | "That, Match, is the wrong question." He tuned the observation room to track a single tumbling mirror. In life, the sail had been as wide as the space between a world and it's moon; in death, the rigging had collapsed into a thistle of spinmetal and glint. "What you should ask is why I am so glad they died!" | ||
I could not imagine, and I admitted it. "These beings were much like us. They did not [[Vex|travel through time]] or lacerate the universe and crawl into the wounds or [[Fallen|yearn for the patronage of any old machine]]… they were creatures of material ambition, of physics, of life. If they failed, it is an omen of death for us." | I could not imagine, and I admitted it. "These beings were much like us. They did not [[Vex|travel through time]] or [[Hive|lacerate the universe and crawl into the wounds]] or [[Fallen|yearn for the patronage of any old machine]]… they were creatures of material ambition, of physics, of life. If they failed, it is an omen of death for us." | ||
"Precisely," Calus said, with wry generosity. "They were grand once. They thought, very briefly, that they would live forever. And they were wrong. We would be very ungrateful to refuse the lesson, wouldn't we?" | "Precisely," Calus said, with wry generosity. "They were grand once. They thought, very briefly, that they would live forever. And they were wrong. We would be very ungrateful to refuse the lesson, wouldn't we?" | ||