Still the Karui barbarians advance upon us. Lioneye is dead, his legion slaughtered, along with every Eternal man, woman and child from Lioneye's Watch to the foot of our Axiom. Should the need arise we shall retreat through Prisoners Gate, raising my barricade behind us.
Yet our salvation is at hand. Foul times demand heroic deeds, and through my arts our Lord Brutus will arise anew to defend us. May the dry sands quench their thirst with Karui blood when our mighty Warden delivers his judgement upon them.
This world is dull and ugly, an imperfect feast of sights, feelings and smells that repulse and depress. Yet amongst this deformity I have found my sublime calling. This world may be abominable, but to an extent, I can be its savior.
I have been gifted with a special sight. Before me lies a blueprint of perfection, a kind of hidden beauty within skin, muscles, tendons and organs. With a tempered hand and a sharpened blade, I will refashion, reshape and rebirth this world.
My obligation is immense, something that will, in all likelihood, consume my life. I cannot rest! My calling energises me. Such is an artist's curse and compulsion.