[ASignalInTheNoise]

Missives to the various minor druid circles, known faithful, and various others flow forth from Arcadia...

It is the blessing and curse of Man to be finite. To have an end and a beginning. To start a journey and to one day, find an end, able to reflect upon that path and the mark left on the course of others. It is the nature of Man's works to be subject to the winds of time, for even his mightiest creations will eventually wither unto nothing, to be fragments left for some future generation to discover.

And so it falls to Man to rage against the coming storms. As a father builds a cabin and then a home, a son builds a workshop and then a village, and his children build a town and then a kingdom, so too, must we, rage against the Weathering Storm. Life, death, and rebirth are all part of the cycle upon which we participate; the fragile balance maintained justly through zealousness or stewardship. Little by little, the hands of the Just turn back the clock of Destruction, advanced through the machinations of the Works of Man.

The time to rest and recover has come and gone.

Now it falls to us, Inheritors of the Future, to act.

It falls to us to make those dreams of past glory real once more.

Once, many generations ago, there was a beautiful beacon of progress and civility among the burning, lifeless sands of the Silent Expanse: Final Frontier. Once, that very city held the same Tree of Hope which has cradled me in my dreams for so many years. What represented then is well and truly unknown to me, for I have never known it's walls or the wonders which were held within them. I know, however, that something great was lost on that day, when like so many others, it was dashed from the world by the Oncoming Storm.

Life; lived and remembered.

Death; mourned in solemnity.

Rebirth; now at hand.

A dangerous condition lurks at the heart of what was once that city. An aftereffect of the citykiller used to deny Atrellya their total victory; should this place ever see hope again, it must be cleansed and made whole once more. It is not a task that may be achieved in a day. It is the Will of the Duchess that these lands be restored and delivered unto the heritors of that legacy, but more than that, it will be a declaration that even the most total of destruction may be washed away by the works of Man, and something new arisen from it. 

To do this, three great upwellings of the Lifestream must be anchored unto place, awaiting the day when the final ritual is brought about to surge life anew unto those cleansed sands when our work is done - this one, will be the first, located close to the Silent Expanse. So I call to those faithful to the Lifestream, those who have studied Druidry, and those who would see the works of Man rise again into the new day that we stand tall in to aid me in this task.

This is but one of the Great Works that I have set my mind to. It is but one injustice to be corrected.

Little by little, we shall see the measures of those who would crash against our walls - witches, warlocks, void cultists, godkillers - erased, by measures at our hands.

Once more,

We will Defy the Night.

A Ritual,

The first Anchoring shall take place at 185, 711.

January 24th, 5 PM EST.