Greetings, As is known to most, I have a certain inclination toward books. That extends into creation of tomes, in shadows of the old way of the art. I, also like most, have found a measure of creativity, community, and spirit with which to temper peace herein. In my ways, I am bound to honor that. The black inkling has found it's way amid my skull, and collects fragments... Iteration has passed to iteration. Recurrence to Recurrence in proper cycles. And doubtless plenty has come and gone in this time, hand to hand, thread to thread, person to person each in our own fashion of making and unmaking. Much of this, I haven't seen - and further still that pass among the finer, actualized aspects of the Server as a whole and functional entity. Now then... My recollection is oft scattered, and the future as-may-be bears as much solidity as the past. Nor am I an elder entity here. I was not it's beginning, I am not it's end. So, tell me: tell me of the first of lands, it's places, it's people. It's events, it's upheaval and it's peace. The states of it's great architects, and the faces and will of it's subtle Architects. Be my eyes in the tales and spin and weave for me what may best be said of the reflective pieces of years. Visual matter also would be of great importance. This is not intended as a work only of words. Perhaps specific people also, but of whom I would need both willingness, artistic license, and some notion of their choice of appearance in the Server. If willing I also entreat Staff as a part of this, hands as they have been in the factors of the Server's breath and life. Those who have been, those who waxed and waned and rose anew. Those who were shadows only. It was my intent that the initial states of the Chronicles involve Creation, and so also the Figures which drove it. Should nothing be provided, the plaques of the chapel and it's graven icons will be taken as matter to be elevated into other art... Aye, true that said chronicles will become an actual thing, if substantial enough. True also that they will be met with the maker's cold and reflective hand, with fiction and fact intermeshed and important in it's vital spirit. Perhaps, a tome one day needing a steward... Time will tell.