Editing Character:Bright Snow (section)

===Time of the Deliberative===
A flickering image appears on a Crystal Screen, a recording playing in some deserted manse. From nowhere and everywhere the manse speaks, in the voice of a woman. 
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'''"Record One, Journey's Start."''' 
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Moments later a woman strides onto the screen, pale like her namesake, no colour to her hair dressed in a red simple dress. <br>
"I've chosen to start this log..." She pauses pain on her face. "... in the wake of the failure of my Thousand Rivers Stream project. It has been lost to the Wyld. My new project will detail the cultures of those societies still in existence, a great work to preserve what remains in Creation. My hope is in my travels I will find some insight that I can use to craft a society that will survive where others fail, one that will evade Time's decaying grasp." She pauses glancing off screen. "At the present I am not sure how much of the Pact survives or even the Realm, however much I do not care for it. Shortly I will leave my manse, one of the last gifts of my mentor and see what remains. Periodically, especially when I reach a new society I will attempt to use the recorder to update my conclusions. Only rarely will I personally address whatever audience this draws, in an effort to minimise any bias. Much of this diary will be things I observe or occur around me, which means there will still be some but not the sort put into words." She glances off camera once again, biting her lower lip. "Lunar forgive me I hope there is something left." The image fades.<br>
The recording skips travel, showing the snowy landscapes forever altered by the Wyld in a montage, ending at the edge of Creation, as she arrives at Gethsemane. The city itself seems sealed, so she proceeds on to Whitewall. There are then a scattering of images as she explorers that city, spying on its people in many guises and questioning them in others. Large quantities of the records seem skipped here, by whomever is controlling what is viewed. The voice repeats.
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'''"Record Two, Whitewall."'''<br>
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Snow is now somewhere inside a building. A bed of solid construction and shuttered windows ghostly represented in the background. Snow is sat on the bed, glancing towards the camera. "I know in my first recording I claimed I wasn't going to add much in the way of records to this... and that is still my intention but I suspect I need someone to talk to..." That she has no one else is left unsaid but the way she says that makes it abundantly clear. "Especially after the events of the last few days..." <br>
"As you will no doubt see from my records, a Circle of Lawgivers and Stewards have reclaimed the Realm Defence Grid. They no seem intent on gathering the others of their kind in a Deliberative, much like the one of old based once again in the Blessed Isle. As a student of history I can only wonder if the events of the past are repeating themselves." The recorder goes dark as Snow moves towards it looking worried, her eyes a whirling mess of colours.
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There is another skip, Snow obviously turned off the recorder. When she returns she looks more composed. The terror and worry has mostly retreated from her small frame and her eyes have settled back to a more icy blue.
I saw one of them, one of these returned Lawgivers. He was requesting the privilege of representing Whitewall as their representative. A strange state of affairs, not one of the old world as my mentor taught me of that age. But how long can a Lawgiver abide by the command of mortals? To any of the Exalted they are as Mayflies... dead with the autumn."