I have lost my sight, my hearing, taste and touch. They are like white feathers in the snow of backward devils… Giving famishes the craving in memory only - reconsidered passion, trembling flame. Think… neither fear nor courage saves us. Unnatural vices fathered by our heroism, virtues forced upon us.

History has many cunning passages, contrived corridors, and issues - deceives with whispering ambitions guides us by vanities. Like sharp secret arrows it penetrates the senses and poisons the air.

Time has really changed, and lo’ it has changed us. We crawl if fright like shuddering ghosts between the fears of the night and the menaces of the day. Yet - there are few who have an impenetrable spirit which earth and heaven cannot convulse. Those who have the will to defy with an immortals vengeance; anxious dreams afflict their hearts.

These few are the Ruin Masters…