It's strange how things repeat themselves through the years, and not entirely clear most times that it's for the better; the Watch is back in Lower, trying not to make the same mistakes as last time. Overstretched and under threat of invasion. Sanctuary is looking to have an extremely bright future.

We have a Council, who consistently make policies and edicts that further plunge us into chaos, despite the presence of several sane people on it. The fact that Councillors have a high mortality rate doesn't help much. We have an invading legion of Lizardmen posed to attack, which will probably be the first truly devastating seige that we've had in a hundred and fifty years. And, as ever, people continue to make this job so much harder for us than it needs to be.

Away from Sanctuary, we have positive results; with lizardmen forces being crushed, and plans foiled consistently. All well and good, but not when two bandits assault the Upper gates and even manage to get inside. It's an insane situation, all told.

And that brings me back to the real point that i'm writing this. Why. I've grown up here, luckily never being enslaved - but also never having the luxury of living on the Surface. But then, what you've never know, you never miss. At least that's what I keep telling myself.

My family is basically dead, down to the hazards of living here, I suppose; and the only relative I have left is further away than ever. In a way, it's good. I don't have to feel the keen loss again, I don't have to bother myself with any concern other than Sanctuary as a whole. On the other hand, I know i'm missing out on the things that used to bring me a little bit of lasting happiness. We all change, I suppose. Some for the better, some for the worse.

I'm beginning to sound like a Moanderite now, with all this philosophy of doom. An ink blot builds up here, as if the quill was left while the writer reflects inwardly for a moment I suppose we'll see how this turns out. If I die, then I escape; in a sense. If I don't die, then the cycle will repeat itself over again. Just a matter of finding a way of breaking it.