The land was as beautiful as it’d been when last I’d visited. The breeze rippled across the meadows and the sun beat affectionately down on our necks. The High Templar and his men marvelled at such wonders. My daughter cried in fear. I felt sick to my bones. As we trampled through the wilderness, it wasn’t long before we were met by the overwhelming presence of the Shade itself. The very essence of the Elder stood silently before us. I felt its eyes bore deep into my skin. Demanding of me in visions to tell it why I had returned. But before I could answer, Venarius stepped forward and greeted the phantom, offering his words up into the air: “He tells me you are King of this land,” he said, “My poor, poor scholar says that you are imprisoned, that you need a key.” As he spoke, the shade stayed quiet, listening and smouldering smugly. “I can be that key for you.” The High Templar announced. For a moment more, the Shade did not respond. A perverse, pensive, pregnant pause lay heavily upon us all. Then finally, casting an image at once upon all of our minds, we felt it ask of Venarius: “What dost thou want?” The High Templar smiled. “Why, power, of course.” He replied.