Then there were three; a smaller number than they would have guessed. It's said that they're the last of their kind; marvels of curiosity. It's a wonder how long it took but it's true, the Silvarian race is on its last three legs, and much like a hobbled dog, it's not something you want to see - but you stare all the same. We're to be the chroniclers of their fate, but where in history should they rest? A footnote? An entire chapter? Or relegated into mythos, something for which they, those future scholars, will never know the whole truth? Reduced to a hole in history, to be filled with wanderlust adventures and personal projections. We live in curious times, and I fear the day when our successors must look upon us in the same way.