Such is the life of an immortal: to establish roots, to see his works prosper, only to see his achievements collapse into ruin or slowly fade into History. At this time, then, I spread my wings and migrate to a new nest, leaving my Foundation in the capable hands of the Doctor. I have been curious of the nation that flies the sign of Baphomet, and finally I decided to visit.
My conjectures were confirmed, it is indeed a Demon's realm. The crimson gentleman with the magnificent horns is the Duke of this land. His surname entitles him to fly the inverted pentagram, and his given name is that of the Light Giver himself. I introduced myself to the holder of two ancient lineages with the utmost respect, and was greeted in kind. Indeed, at the mention of my Brother's name I was immediately welcomed as family.
And I could not have come at a better time. They were huddled in the midst of war-plans, plotting a punitive strike against an island of Sparks that raided his Dukedom. Darkmere may be located on the mainland, but as any citizen of Neualtenburg would tell you, living surrounded by savages does make you one. The worshipers of the Artficial shall learn to the fear the Supernatural, have no doubt of that!
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