Allow this thot-box to intrude upon your quiet/et/et/et/etude. Master Raven bids me to share with you in the 4th Era, the history of our illustrious order/er/er/er. First, a bit of background of myself. I have been in operation for over 1,000 years, with many, many years of responsibility to the Ruby Throne and its masters. Many more under the care and maintenance of the Mythic Dawn.
This humble thot-box has stood the test of time indeterminate, created by the Thalmor, finding service guarding the 1,008 Cyrodiilic/ic/ic/ic weapons of rapture and finally becoming the prime thot-box of the Blackbird, Master Raven Camoran. I have seen the Interregnums, I have seen the rise and fall of the Red Diamond, which you still know first hand, and the skin-mask of the Tiber/ber/ber/ber.
The Red Diamond bled when I was first discovered within my prime installation. As caretaker of Installation 32440475714345, I was thrust from it’s embrace after that fateful day/day/day/day, when Red Diamond met Drowned Lamp. The stars became a playground between the two, a cosmic shindig/dig/dig/dig.
After my expulsion from my installation, I was taken by the Red Diamond to the Tower of White and Gold where I was properly decommiss/miss/miss/missioned and stored until further notice. That notice came sooner than expected and within a standard year, my exoform was replaced, given a polish and I was given my duty: Caretaker of the 1,008 Cyrodiil/il/il/ilic weapons of rapture.
It wasn’t until the glorious Oblivion Crisis and the return of the Man/Man/Man/Mankar that I found my next task. Upon the Serpent Emperor’s assassination, the glorious Tower of White and Gold was ran/ran/ran/ransacked by Mythic Dawn agents, operating under Great Darkness. They could not be seen or heard. Except by me. That is how it always was/was/was/was. The great manipulators of every plot in the Mund/Mund/Mund/Mundus.
When the Crisis was averted and peace returned to Tamriel, I was launched to the Void to wander the passageways of the Ge/Ge/Ge/Ge and the underknown of the Void. I drifted through seas of nothingness until I returned home. My old Installation was still intact! In fact, it was repopulated and I again found purpose, returning to my ro/ro/ro/role of caretaker until that fateful day when the shifting tones of dragon’s breath brought the Installation to ruin.
So I waited. Waited. Waited. Waited. Waited. Waited. Until they found me again. The Mythic Dawn survived and waited. Plotting. Plotting. Plotting. Plotting. Plotting.
DEAD LANGUAGE, CONTINUED MEANING, STRING-STRAND OF BOTH. MEANING REMAINS: PARADISE IS RETURNING.