{Westbridge, 11:34 pm}
In the deep of the night, a dull ratcheting could be heard within the darkened airship docks tearing through the blanket of silence. A dim glow cast from the underside of a particular ship flickered warmly off of the hulls of various other ships in the yard. An exhausted looking man of middle age stood from his hunched position and sighed with relief as the last plate had been bolted to the hull. Preperations were almost complete.
Since his imprisonment in the cavern, he had been nothing short of reclusive, of that he was aware. Frozen in time for half of a year took a psychological toll on a person...he had needed the time to sort himself out. Time...what a strange and misleading force. Time it took to heal, but linger too long and it becomes the enemy, passing one by entirely. The wide eyes which stared up at the moon belonged to a man whom time had nearly passed by. Closing his eyes against the moonlight, he remembered. Remembered how his last quest had been cut short. Remembered his losing battle. Remembered the odd force which had freed him from the chamber in which he had been help captive. Delving further into his mind, he remembered the rage. Remembered standing at the cliff overlooking Polaris. Remembered tasting the spell on his lips, a magic that would forever bring an end to those who had locked him away. No...not like this, live and let live, that is the way of my homeland. He remembered gritting his teeth and walking away, the bittersweet agony of doing right by himself tormenting him.
He opened his eyes again, uttered a single word extinguishing the soft glow of his magical light, and turned away from the docks drawing his cloak tight about himself. The world was a big place, the universe even larger. To see the entire of both, he could not dwell upon vengance nor the past...lest time pass him by.
--A page from the journal of Throm