"And the prophet took me to the mountaintop, and pointed down. There, littering the valley below, were the broken bodies of the
Hopesless Gamers, mewling and writhing like drowned dragon-puppies. 'Fall not asleep, lest you join them in their pit of despair' spake the prophet, and I trembled, for I knew that the vigil was yet long and sleep could steal upon me like a Serpent and strike me down before I knew it was there. Yet looking up at the Luna illuminating the night sky, I knew Hopes had not abandoned me yet, and so I taped my eyes open and continued to press F5 through the long hours of the night. By the Grace of Gracie, I endured." -- The Accounts of the DeLacolytes, Ch. 4, Final Verse