[Stug3]

It has been far too long since I last put ink in this book. My self-induced exile has caused me to miss so much, as word of Blood's defeat has only recently reached my ears. (What the cost of this victory was I could only surmise) Little information made it into the deep forest where I was skulking for these long months. The madness I feared has faded and I find myself internally at peace for the first time in years. The wilderness provided as it always has but the healing my troubled soul was unexpected, I no longer feel as if I carry a monster waiting to shed its Balthazar skin and make an escape in the darkness. I regret my absence during such a significant time in history. Although my absence is regrettable it was nonetheless necessary. I was heartened to see many new faces bustling about in Hlint, yet sadness settled about my heart as I searched for familiar faces among the crowds. Where had they all gone? I left to the wilds for me but now I find myself thinking of friends and comrades. How many had fallen in the fight to secure Blood's defeat, How many are nothing but memory?...