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Oxryklne snorts.  I'm a tiny beetle.  You think I know about all your shadow wars and shards and crap?  I was absorbed by the shadows myself.  The only reason I broke you free is because I had no idea what you were.

(Bob. The button man. Bob the button man.)

If you truly believe that shadows are evil, then you are an ancient. If you do not beeline that ancients are evil, then you are one of them. For, in war, both sides are evil. One one hand, we have the shadows attempting to take over the world. On the other, we have the ancients suppressing the shadows for all eternity. And I'm afraid undecided is the most dangerous choice there is.

That sounds...pleasant.  Oxryklne says, envisioning a shadowy executioner raising a flyswatter over his head while a number of other shades cheer him on.  So, I just say 'I hate shades" and I'm an enemy of the shades?  And vice versa?

Not quite. If, in fact, you do wish to be a shade, you must prove yourself in a battle grounds. An arena. A fight to the death. This is how the Shades develop their soldiers. The ancients do it in something of a court. However, the ancients are on the loosing end of this right now. They would be more... Lenient.

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