{Volume 3: Slaves of Virtue} Another shipment of human picks and shovels, bound for Highgate. Ezomytes mostly, care of Gaius Sentari’s “civilisation camps”. A few dark skins here and there, Karui and Maraketh. Malachai has had his wicked way with them all. Limbs are stretched, contorted, double and triple jointed. All the better to pluck gems from the cracks and fissures of their home and tomb to be. They squint and cower in the sun, their eyeballs injected with gloom so that they might see in the subterranean night as they would in their warm, homeland day. The shackled slaves shuffle north as the gems they mine tumble south, a glittering landslide of power and privilege for the fairest of our Eternal citizens. Civilisation is bought and paid for with the flesh and blood of the primitive. It is a debt that will one day need to be repaid. { - Victario of Sarn}