Duty is, at times, a harsh mistress. And a thankless one. Mine is to wake, to watch the lands and look out for any of the kin that may need me. To do so each day, if only for a while.
And of late, it's often been a very short while that I've woken, though I have done so each day as I must. Often there have been no others awake in the lands, no friends or kin with whom to exchange a few words.

There have been brighter times though. Welcoming new kin into the guild is a pleasure, a pleasure felt recently when I happened by sheer good fortune to wake as an induction was about to take place. Bondings and parties or events - I've attended those few I was able, and sent apologies for the far too many I could not attend.

As for the rest of the time ... the N'Rolav tombs are dark, filled with unrelenting danger as the wretches flit and skitter around, often heard before they are seen. They do me little harm now, but the sheer numbers of them in this gloomy place wears down my spirits.

There's nothing but darkness, and solitude. And those, it seems, are all that the Iron Mistress offers in return for heeding her call. For now they must suffice.