 | Name | Tales Carried by the Northwind |
| Type (Ingame) | Quest Item | |
| Family | Book, loc_fam_book_family_1072 | |
| Rarity |  | |
| Description | A poetry collection chronicling the deeds of successive Starshynas. Most of its contents were lost in past calamities. Only a small fraction of the original fragments have been recovered. |
Item Story
| — Silvestr Petrovich Solovei — VI "... Since you are kind enough to hear a dying man's shame, Allow me to express my thanks for your gentle grace. Still, how could the secrets of one's soul be caught in a simple phrase? Cries of regret yield no harvest for the coming day. Once, I too trusted the nobles' guileful tongues, And let their hollow vows obscure my sight. Not 'til farewell were the bitter facts wrung, And all our shattered dreams stood bare to the light. Why do the tombs call forth such sorrowful plight? When comrades, homeland and my loved ones dear, Have found their rest within the endless night? No mourner disturbs their tranquil sleep. In cold repose, like frost on waters clear, Sorrow and pain, too, yield to a slumber deep. What difference does it make? Dreams, like prayers, all prove vain. Lest idle tears should trace a fruitless way, This vow within my heart — I must embrace. Though brief the moment, a moment's fleeting grace, I must let this burning heart beat with fervent pace; And let this passion, my soul's consuming shroud Forge a beacon. May it shine bright and bold; a brief beam to bid Elysium unfold. Have you beheld a dream more bright than gold? Can you recall the paths of hate, of love? The twilight clouds in dusk's embrace unfold, The evening breeze scatters the light smoke above. Time flies, and bygone days depart. Do you still recall, or has memory flown? Yet still, someone must light the beacon's spark Even on snow-clad fields and borderlands stark. ..." VIII Covered in the pale, frost-colored moonlight, The valiant warrior journeyed to a foreign shore. Countless souls lie buried within the ancient ruins, Innumerable heroes faded where mists now stray. The dark tide of monsters galloped across the desolate expanse, Trampling upon the hopes of all the living. Thus did the Nightingale forge the first beam of light upon the summit, Subduing the insatiable delirium. The biting gale blew with fervor, whilst the calamity was cast into the blackened light. He caught a fleeting glance of the still dawn, a glimpse of the eternal yesterday, Fate traversed the winds, between the living and the dead. In the long night, the sound of the lyre was akin to the fragrance of blossoms in the first stirring of spring. Parting the snow-curtain of the sky, The Nightingale would sing in praise of the sun. A generation akin to thunder's roar, A generation steadfast as pine and cypress, A generation resembling the mighty tide, A generation fierce as the tempestuous wind, Inherited this name through the ages. ... — Sergei Semyonovich Mayakov — III An unequal mortal duel, a hopeless deathmatch, Relentless, pitch-black, towering waves loomed on one side, Whilst an aged and feeble soul stood upon the other, A weapon gripped tightly in his hand. The voice in the mist spoke to him thus: You blind, reckless, malicious fool. Do you have no care for the companions who trusted you? You, Mayakov, you arrogant madman, It was for your vile glory that You let the young lads lose their lives. Their mothers will never see their sons again, Nor their sons, their fathers. How pitiful, the orphans you adopted so hypocritically, They once again must endure the bitter anguish of losing a father. Why didn't you send out a distress signal? Why did you let the Lighthouse fall? Why strip the hope from your brethren? Let them face death in desolation? An old man, who knows not the limits of his own strength! They all perished for your lofty ambitions, And none remain to lay their bones to rest. Dear, dear Mayakov, yield now. For the sake of peace, let their souls find redemption. He faced the ocean, shadowed by his gloom, And with his hand, he shined his axe anew. |
Regarding the alternative for Bennet. Xiangiling might be better. Swirl doesn´t scale with ATK and ...