To have the camera as an eye witness of what happened, spoken in the words of the three who had lived through it at its closet, to have them still here to speak of it and be reminders of the truth... perhaps it would not all be lost. The more who knew of what happened meant the more that would pass it on to their children, their children's children. Word would spread and, with some hope, the word would remain true with the book there to guide its course. History is always skewed, written in the eye of those who lived through it, the winners, but this would be as close to what actually happened as they could manage.

For a flawed hero, even a hero who liked to fish and who was lazy and stubborn and who feared responsibility but took it anyway... was a hero that could relate to the people.

"The ocean... yeah. Yeah, he'd like that, or even up at the Vesperpool, or near Gladin Quin..." Different locations, the things they did at them, flicker through his head and pull hard at his heart, but he means his words. "I don't exactly know how you go around and get a tomb made or anything, though."