A rusty nail placed near a faithful compass, will sway it from the truth, and wreck the argosy.

The Rusty Ruins were the remains of an old city, a hulking reminder of back when there'd been way too many people, and everyone was incredibly stupid. And ugly.

Oh, what a tangled web we weave...when first we practice to deceive.

I cannot tell how the truth may be; I say the tale as it was said to me

May I govern my passion with absolute sway, And grow wiser and better as my strength wears away

Alone! Alone! No beacon, far or near! No chart, no compass, and no anchor stay!