Now you may be wondering how such a thing as the Drifter’s Handbook came about. After all, a book is a long and arduous process, requiring long hours of writing and longer hours of drawing.
Luckily, I have no hands and no need for sleep, so the process is quite easy on one such as myself.
I have vested interest, of course, in Lady Parhelion and the rest of the Nine as they continue their journeys alongside the Drifters. Had it not been for me, the Nine would have undoubtedly either perished in their fight against Spailasor, or perhaps met an even more gruesome fight. Yes, it was naught but a silly coincidence that I was around that day. That coincidence will hopefully end up saving many lives though, and I am proud to have played a part in this magnificent play.
Of course, all things have a price, and Lady Parhelion intends to pay in full. Were I a betting man, I’d put the odds on her, but things get sketchy when there are gods involved. To head home now, well it would be the sensible thing to do, for me and the Lady both. But, she has too much pride to leave the Nine behind, and I have too much pride to allow her to wield me once again without first proving herself.
And pride is a delicate thing, dear reader. We see its ugly face snarl at the misfortunate and blind the champions. Pride among the innocent, though begets courage and morality. Courage and morality beget action, and action begets reaction. Actions and reactions are what make up the story, and the story is what you hold in your hands today.
So enjoy the tale of the Drifters in all their sordid pride, and of the Nine who came to accompany them in their most broken state. I bear witness to it all, and account for you the tales of the past for those who may find this when the Nine’s name have all but faded from the historic texts.
Pariah dogs and wandering madmen always flock to each other then the days get long. The days have never been longer.