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*A couple of torn pages flutter down to land infront of your eyes, some ancient remnant, dappled with hues of bronze and copper, parchments of rich vellum, now tattered, now shattered*

*You sit down in amongst the remnants of an attic, searching through old battered diary's of forgotten lives, that seem to breathe every now and again as more faded ink is sprawled over them.... picking up the one with the dusty copper cover you open it to find nothing but scraps of paper, eaten up by vengeful moths, the first little shattered fragment you hold is blank...*