Sgrios Shambler

The sun has begun its gradual retreat; our days are growing shorter and considerably cooler. The trees discard their fiery leaves with reckless abandon and the children walk with a spirited gait, equal parts frightened and elated; driven by horrific tales and fantastic fables that spread across the fields of Temuair. This is the most holy time of the cycle for a Sgrian, the time when decay presses its mighty thumb into Cail’s creation and wilts the abundance so effortlessly that one wonders if the struggle between the two temples exists at all. But with the weather and the seasonal sensations; the smell of dried leaves, the chill of the air, the taste of sweet, ripened apples and the sounds of small critters scurrying through exposed brush attempting to etch out enough of a stash to make it through the winter - we must take stock of the wonderful work of Lord Sgrios. Considering that today is a festival day, with the Troupes Red Moon celebration captivating the minds of the popul

What is it for us, as Aislings, to metamorphosize? Each day we watch the world cocoon itself in the gentle black of night before ripping through the chrysalis of day with its garish wings of light before settling, again, to reshape itself once more come nightfall. We, too, find an infinity of life as we shape and reshape our existence. This is sometimes at the insistence of enlightenment, though more typically comes in the form of a dark night; a cold embrace that cradles our sparks and hides them from all but their owners. In this life we find an endless parade of challenges and in them we are given the opportunity to improve our circumstances, or mire ourselves in the tide of our demise. When we take a fatalistic view of our lives and appreciate that a day will come when Sgrios will take us into His embrace and leave naught but dust it can feel futile to strive to live well, but just because our inevitable end will reach us all does not mean that He, in His divine wisdom, does n