Silver Dawn: Synergy

 My life is like an island,  '' Where does this ocean go? ''

Pathfinder Camp 


 * A level, grassy plain extends from the base of the brown and gray stone of the Aegis, a wall more than six hundred feet tall that encircles the realm of Fastheld. It is upon this plain within the shadow of that vast bulwark that one is able to find a neat sprawl of fifty leather canvas tents, each dyed in a shade of charcoal.


 * Among those tents idle people who, for all intents and purposes, are supposed to be nothing more than a myth: Pathfinder Rangers, clad in matte-black ringmail armor and brandishing a number of ranged weapons and blades.


 * They maintain a human wall around a space just north of the camp where most of what this gathering seems to be focused around, which for all intents and purposes just seems to be another ordinary stretch of Aegis wall. However, given that the rangers are not permitting *anyone* to get close to that epicenter of activity, very little can be observed.


 * Tents hued in more conventional shades of tanned leather belonging to the scores of travelers who have come here from Wedgecrest and beyond flow outwards from the main Pathfinder gather, spaced around fires, equipment racks, and even a few stalls. What started as a private and mysterious gathering seems to have turned into an impromptu festival of sorts - par for the course when one considers the spirit of those that dwell within the wall that looms overhead.

 Flying above tree level, black against the black sky, the massive raven with burning eyes shadows the former scourge's high mount, keeping a watchful vigil as the Lady rides into the clearing's edge. It stays high and circling, for now, away from the encampment to be as unnoticeable as can be managed, amidst all the bustle.    From Rampart's saddle, Said scourge take little notice of the bird, though it is clear the woman is keeping a watchful eye to it' approach. Celeste pulls the horse up short at the sign of the various tents. Her eyes lingering on the space that is sectioned off but move on towards the various people... and their manner of dress. She slips her leg over the hindquarter of rampart... dropping to the ground with a jangle from the obsidian, starburst adorned armor.    For once in his life, Wolfsbane could almost blend in. Well, except for that bow he insists on carrying with him. The man is one of the many clad in black leather and ringmail moving about the camp, the ranger leading his horse by the reins about the camp, considering those here and there, pausing to engage in brief conversation with one, and then another. But mostly moving about aimlessly.    Trudging towards the gathering of people are two men armored in different forms of banded plate amour, lit by the glow of the firelight as well as the glow from one seraphite shield. Lucius Nepos and Hugo Wheat take their time as they walk, in no hurry.    On foot, and unarmored but not unarmed, is the grey-clad Milora Lomasa. Aside from the long quiver and bow crossed across her back, she is dressed perhaps a bit too demurely for the occasion, a curious expression on her face as she carefully draws her cloak closed around her neck.   <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Taran rides in - quietly, with little fanfare. The bard, as ever, seems to have found the clothes to fit the occasion - though he moves with a marked lack of ease in the obsidian ringmail, and quickly opts to dismount and lead his horse along instead. The cloak hides most of the armor and his Lute as well, but his free hand holds his staff as a walking aid. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Looking a bit baffled, Katriana Nillu appears from the main trail, head tilted slightly to the side. Though armed, the bow is looped lazily over her shoulder and hardly a threat at all. She moves a bit further towards the camp, hesitant for the moment. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> There's little attempt at subtlety as a party of six make their way towards the gathering. The horse in the midst of five lightly armed and armored individuals stops. Varal Mikin drops to the ground and grabs the reins of his horse as he slowly makes his way in. &quot;Feel free to enjoy yourselves, gentlemen, if there is enjoyment to be had,&quot; he orders, which is greeted with approval from his loyal retainers. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Amidst all the personal armies and armored folk suddenly appearing into the clearing is a tall, leather-cloaked man walking calmly in from Wedgecrest's direction. The black cloak is clasped in front of him, the hood drawn up and partially obscuring most of his visage except for his lightly-bearded chin. His steps do, however, reveal a pair of finely-crafted leather boots secured well to his feet. He appears, for all intents and purposes, unarmored, but possibly armed. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Pausing at one of the other countless rangers in the camp, Wolfsane tilts his head slightly, before calling out quietly to him. The other turns about, blinking in some minor surprise, before the pair take a step closer to begin conversing about something, a soft chuckle being heard from one or the other. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Above, the raven circles a bit lower, flying above and across the new arrivals, black against black sky... before turning and finding a current of air that allows a lazy glide in the direction of the camp. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Beyond the Camp: At the base of the Aegis, to the immediate north of the Pathfinder Camp, a single ranger of the Pathfinder creed seems to stand alone as he considers the wall in front of him. It would appear to those looking on from within the main camp that he looks to be waiting for something - or, perhaps, someone - as he stands here. One might also note that he stands with his right palm pressed firmly against the granite of that vast bulwark, like one would feel for a pulse within a mighty behemoth. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Celeste looks over the various familiar face, landing on Vhramis's... she begins to advance towards the ranger, the woman holding her voice until she closes the distance. &quot;Master Wolfsbane,&quot; inquires the noblewoman softly upon drawing closer. &quot;What is this?&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> The further Katriana moves toward the camp, the deeper the look of curiosity. Once she notes the male Mikin, a brow lifts. &quot;Varal?&quot; she inquires, stepping off in his direction. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Lucius Nepos lowers his shield arm so that it rests at his side. He notes the many people he knows around and more importantly the multitude of people he doesn't, smiling towards no one in particular. Nudging Hugo, Lucius walks over to a position where he can more easily observe what's going on. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:maroon">Beyond the Camp: &quot;You seem of a mind to push the wall over with a nudge,&quot; speaks the soft-toned voice of the tall, silver-haired stranger from another time, with glowing blue eyes, who emerges from behind one of the clusters of shrubs near the great Aegis wall. His slender fingers lace together behind his back as he quietly moves to stand beside Serath Kahar. He stops, momentarily fixes his attention on the hand the nobleman has pressed against stone, and then his gaze travels up toward the top of the wall and beyond, to the stars themselves. &quot;You beckoned. I am here.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Taran turns his horse loose in a small, makeshift enclosure that seems to have several in it already, before making his way slowly toward the wall. Here and there others in the armor stop him; each one results in a small delay of quiet conversation. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Upon hearing his name called, Vhramis turns about in search of it's source, the conversation with the other ranger halted. The stranger likewise turns his attention briefly to Celeste, before turning to head off and vanish into the sea of like garbed bodies. &quot;...you came? All the way out here?&quot; Wolfsbane asks the Mikin, unable to hide the hint of surprise in his voice. He swallows and casts a brief look about the camp. &quot;They're friends,&quot; is all he responds to her question. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Varal seems to garner further attention than just Katriana, however. Taking easy note of the Mikin and his men, the tall cloaked figure makes his way through the people to approach. &quot;You were never one for subtlety, were you, old friend?&quot; speaks a familiar cultured accent of a young man toward Varal, a brown silk-sleeved arm reaching out from the cloak to tip the cowl of his hood a bit higher, revealing the grinning face of Norran Lomasa. &quot;A strange gathering, don't you think?&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Beyond the Camp: &quot;I was wondering when you'd show up.&quot; the Prince admits in that level, regal purr of his, pushing away from that wall with that pressed palm before turning to look upon silver-haired stranger to his side. The previously pressed palm shifts now to rest upon the pommel of steel longsword that sleeps in the scabbard upon his hip. &quot;I'd quip that you're late, though from what I understand of your kind you are neither ever late nor early, but merely are.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">He sighs at that; self depreciation within the tone of the soft, wordless expression. &quot;Besides, I imagine such flippancy would be lost upon you, somehow.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Varal stops for a moment, looking around lazily for familiar faces. His men continue onward while their lord bites his lower lip. He seems to focus on Celeste, shifting his weight, when someone speaks his name. Startled, he turns. It takes a moment, and then he bows. &quot;M'lady Nillu. It has been quite some... time.&quot; And then Norran speaks, turning Varal yet again - but not before he finishes greeting Katriana. &quot;I'm no bandit, Duke Lomasa. Nor am I dealing with them. That is the only situation I have found subtlety useful.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Why would I not come? I heard word there were people massing in the Mikin lands, and wanted to see for myself as to the why,&quot; explains Celeste. Even at the retreat of the other rangers, she continues until she stands at Wolfsbane's side. &quot;What is going on here?&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Lucius Nepos now moves to join Varal, Norran and company. &quot;Hey, Norran.&quot; Calls the man, eschewing social convention completely. &quot;Remember when that bugger came out of the rift thingie, and we asked him a few questions? And then I asked him if he'd bring it down, and he laughed?&quot; The soldier leaves the rest unsaid, motioning towards Serath and the tall stranger with him. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Above, watching still, the bird ghosts over Celeste and Vhramis, circling above the man and his glowing eyes, the Pathfinder at the wall... then back across the camp, riding what little wind exists. Slowly it circles lower, drifting out above the high grass a short distance away from the camp, settling into it with the quiet whirring of wings. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:maroon">Beyond the Camp: &quot;Your need for flippancy is a cause for some puzzlement, I admit,&quot; Marrokamir replies, lifting his glimmering brows above luminescent eyes. &quot;I inferred no need for great haste. Further, it is no small thing that you seek. Preparation is critical. We must not undertake such endeavors lightly.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Katriana Nillu's attention steals to Norran for only a moment, and then back to Varal. &quot;Indeed, quite a while.&quot; She smiles faintly, flickering her gaze over Lucius, offering the freelander a nod in greeting, before she gazes onward to the motion. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> “Quite,&quot; muses Norran to Varal, before Lucius interjects. &quot;Well, so much for that,&quot; grumbles Norran, unclasping the front of his cloak and pulling his hood back to reveal his face. &quot;Yes, yes, Lucius, I recall. When iron was fashionable. Or was it imperial steel? I'm fond of both rather equally ... why do you ask?&quot; furthers Norran now, his voice genuinely curious as he turns to face Lucius. He doesn't seem to gain much attention to Katriana, whether on purpose or not it's readily apparent. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Vhramis shrugs a bit at that, releasing the reins of Allegiant, though the shire doesn't seem particularly inclined to head off anywhere. &quot;...well. They gathered together, as you know,&quot; he states, not seeming to have an answer to her question. He grunts and crosses his arms, watching others move about almost at random. &quot;...good to see, though, I admit.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Taran makes his way with slow but steady progress toward the wall. Watch, listen... occasionally, explain himself. But steady progress, nonetheless. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Beyond the Camp: &quot;I imagine it's a trait of my species that even the Dragons have yet to understand; although I'm told that Val'sharax is fond of such quirks.&quot; the Prince replies in regards to elaborating on the first of Marrokamir's statements, looking back upon the Aegis as the topic shifts to the matter at hand. &quot;Would be that it were a small issue, yes, but I assure you we're quite aware of what it is that we wish to undertake. Make no mistake-&quot; The prince looks upon his strange companion once more, a knowing smile lighting his features, &quot;Dragons rarely take things lightly.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Warmaster,&quot; Varal says to Lucius with a nod, still choosing to use the Constables now seemingly ancient title. &quot;Quite a gathering we have here. I have not been to Wedgecrest in, well, years. Brings back memories.&quot; The Mikin idly scratches his face. &quot;Does anyone know the first thing about why they're here?&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Well... I mention it because don't you think they might go through with it?&quot; Lucius motions with an extended hand towards the Aegis in front of them. &quot;I just... that'd be a big bloody change.&quot; He offers a nod at Varal, as well. &quot;Indeed we do, Lord Mikin. Last time was for a tourney I think, but onto your question... no, I don't. But I have an idea. We'll have to wait and see.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Thus it is that a young freelander rises out of the grass where the bird once was, raising his hood and carefully sheathing that odd, wildlander's knife at his waist. Moving quietly, silver-trimmed cloak flaring behind him in the dim, he moves into the camp, and, oddly enough, in the direction of the mailed bard and his horse, picking his way through the assembly at the best pace he can manage, provided he does so unchallenged in the process. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;So you do not know the meaning for their gathering,&quot; prods Celeste gently of the ranger. Her attention looking over the gathered grouping though she remains at the ranger side. &quot;What form of festival are they understanding, Master Wolfsbane? You seem to play the... are you one of them as well,&quot; she inquires incredulous. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> Beyond the Camp: &quot;Indeed,&quot; Marrokamir agrees. His brow furrows and a frown etches onto his face as he studies the intricacies of ancient stone rising before him. &quot;Then you no doubt understand the risks. You know what has come to pass before. You know what consequences may befall Il'ish'ahlashar if we cannot control the energies involved.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Memories for all, I would imagine,&quot; Katriana notes to Varal absently. &quot;I would ask where you had gone to, but perhaps it would be a conversation best saved for another time.&quot; Her attention focuses on Lucius. &quot;Bring down the Aegis? You do not think that would be an impossible task? It is /huge/.&quot; The Nillu seems to have no problem ignoring Norran either, even though they stand in relatively close proximity. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Again, no real answer is offered from Wolfsbane, the man merely giving Celeste a shrug and a sheepish look. &quot;Well...do I look like one of them?&quot; he asks, gesturing to those wandering about. &quot;Clothes don't mean everything. Usually, I suppose.&quot; He clears his throat and shifts his eyes. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Aye, as would turning the Emperor into a bulldog or declaring that ale is contraband. Big changes all, but likely? Another story. If that strange outlander with the eyes wished to tear down the wall - could he? What he did to those Scourges was impressive to say the least, but the wall? Standing here for six centuries? Rather absurd, don't you think?&quot; thoughtfully supposes Norran aloud, shaking his head somewhat as he grins faintly toward Lucius. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Beyond the Camp: &quot;I do.&quot; Serath admits, a certain steel lending itself to the two simple words. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#993366">&quot;Though perhaps you do not.&quot; the Prince then states in a voice not his own; a strange, lilting voice that holds deep wisdom and the undercurrents of power within its tone. A voice as depthless as the voids of oblivion and as timeless as history itself. The unmistakable voice of a great dragon. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#993366">&quot;For the Light has evidently spared you from such an event that has already come to pass, Marrokamir. A cataclysm of raw force and unbridled catastrophe that even we could not control, and one that sundered the world that we call Sho'drakar in the Draconian tongue. Do you yet know the fate of your people, or why you feel so alone upon this world that you know as home, yet that is not home?&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> The male Mikin shrugs to Katriana. &quot;Not as interesting as you'd think. I've been busy trudging around Light's Reach, dealing with bandits who find it a great place to take root.&quot; He motions with his head towards his men, who are beginning to disappear into the ground. &quot;Without them, I'd be dead. Got used to taking them everywhere.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Varal crosses his arms, frowning as he turns towards Norran and Lucius. &quot;Take down the Aegis? That would be all kinds of foolish. Every bone in my body screams that it's dangerous out there.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;More riddles,&quot; notes Celeste with confused amusement towards Vhramis. Her eyes moving back towards the small group near the wall. She starts to walk towards the group, natural curiosity winning out over good sense. Her steps faltering in the wake of that voice... eyes widening. &quot;Vhramis... .&quot; she calls in hesitation over her shoulder towards the ranger. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Taran stops in his tracks as the Prince's voice changes, staring with wide eyes at the pair. The staff is held tightly in one hand... but almost as an anchor, rather than a defense of any kind. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Hesitating at that, the ranger lifts a hand to clutch at the bow slung over his shoulder, the man blinking at Celeste, before turning about to look like many others in the direction of that voice. &quot;Maybe...a closer look?&quot; he suggests after a moment, abruptly stepping forward without waiting to see if she would follow. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;It /is/ dangerous out there, Lord Mikin. But that doesn't mean somebody's not about to do something foolish... and as for what he's capable of doing, we just don't know.&quot; Lucius falls deadly silent when Serath's voice is 'taken over' by whatever creature which inhabits him. He raises his shield up a bit more defensively, wrapping his hand around a steel spear but not removing it yet. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Familiar faces are taken in, and a rather lost-looking Milora Lomasa quickly finds herself by the sides of Norran Lomasa and Lucius Nepos. &quot;I hope that I don't interrupt, and so on and so forth,&quot; she says, looking up at the Duke quizzically, &quot;but what under the sun is going on?&quot; She looks uneasy, as though she already anticipates what the answer will be. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Kael pulls up next to Taran, reaching up to draw back that hood - eyes glimmering red in the dim and oddly ashen-faced as he glances to the Bard, then back. &quot;I have heard... &quot; He swallows... and, almost blankly, adds - &quot;Armor looks good 'n ye.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:maroon">Beyond the Camp: The shift in voice seems not to faze Marrokamir, but the words spoken by that voice weigh upon him with each syllable like the heaping of one stone upon another. His shoulders sink and he stares wordlessly at the grassy earth that binds him to the here and now. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:maroon"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:maroon">&quot;I know that I cannot hear their minds. I have searched the archives that pass for bastions of knowledge in this wretched place, but it is as though all that we were and all that became of us, all that *was* Il'ish'ahlashar, was blown away like so much dust in a maelstrom.&quot; His shimmering eyes return to the mouthpiece of the drake: &quot;I would know the truth. Enlighten me and I will do as you bid.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> The odd happening beyond the camp suddenly catching up to him, Norran turns to face it with a light brown brow arching considerably. &quot;Then again,&quot; he continues, &quot;Absurd has been known to happen. Perhaps we should consider taking our leave, lest we wish to end up like those Scourges? I'm not in the mood to witness another of his... temper tantrums.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Celeste is quick to follow the ranger, trying to stay at his side. &quot;Yes, my thoughts... &quot; Her voicing dying out as she can only walk as if in a dream at the Wolfsbane's side. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Katriana Nillu flickers a gaze to Milora for a moment. &quot;It seems we may perhaps be seeing a new page in history being written this night,&quot; she notes to the female Lomasa quietly, but falls silent afterward, turning her gaze entirely to the conversing pair, one hand tightening over her bow. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> The events nearby capturing everyone else's attention, Varal can't help but also notice. The Mikin grinds his teeth, a grimace on his face as his eyes widen dramatically. &quot;Light protect us,&quot; he mutters irritably. &quot;I've been gone far too long,&quot; he adds, barely audible. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Lucius Nepos nods at Kat. &quot;Which is precisely why I don't want to leave. Not just yet.&quot; Wheat, by his side, has fallen absolutely quiet, not that he is normally very talkative around nobility anyways. &quot;I think we're safe, anyways.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;It looks poorly and in truth I would have preferred not to wear it,&quot; Taran murmurs, his attention absolutely upon the speaking pair. &quot;They feel... &quot; he trails off, brows lowering. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Kael says, &quot;I hae heard a voice like that afore - twice.&quot; Kael swallows, the light breeze causing the tail of his cloak to flip, slightly. &quot;Who 's he?&quot; The odd awe, and the nervousness are both unmistakeable, the pathfinder at the wall more an object of study than the glowing-eyed fellow.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> “I'd prefer that page in history not be fused into the left portion of my skull, but I'll be sure to be ready to run,&quot; decides Norran aloud, Milora's voice causing him to smile toward her gently. &quot;Well, I was wondering where you were. As for what's going on? Who knows! So long as we don't die in a horrific explosion that sears the flesh from our bones and boils our blood, I'm quite content to watch!&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Milora looks mildly agitated by Katriana's words, giving a dry half-smile in her direction. &quot;Is that all?&quot; she asks, raising her eyebrows delicately. &quot;Lucius, you have no penchant for being vague. Do you mean to enlighten me?&quot; she continues, turning her head towards the veteran. &quot;Mark my words, if they intend to take a piece out of that,&quot; she gestures gently towards the wall with one of her hands, &quot;it will cause more bad than good. ... Oh, Norran,&quot; she says, looking at him with a peculiar expression, &quot;... really. Well, at any rate, if I die I plan to take you along with me.&quot; She grins. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Beyond the Camp: <span style="font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Arial;color:#993366">&quot;Very well, Marrokamir. Your trade is accepted.&quot; <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> Serath nods at the words that are not his own, his ice-blue gaze shifting back upon the Aegis as he once again presses his right palm against the cold stone - but not just any stone. His hand makes contact with one that is so subtly out of place as to have gone unnoticed for six centuries: a stone of pure reflective obsidian. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#993366"> &quot;It ended here, with this stone.&quot; <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> the lilting voice of a dragon notes, Serath closing his eyes as another voice elaborates the tale of Marrokamir's people. &quot;Yet it began many, many, centuries before. One ending leading to another beginning; a beginning that, too, must have an ending of its own.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#993366"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#993366">&quot;For as long as time forgotten our two races had shared this contested world in relative harmony. Some among your kind worshipped us as gods; others barted with us as equals. At times we were as kin, regardless of our differences, and at others we maintained respectful distances.” </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#993366"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#993366">“Yet, through all our exchanges, we held mutual respect for each other; we, the Drakar’ri, ancient and wise. You, the Kamir, young and powerful, eager to learn what we had to teach. You made excellent students, and we reveled in our role as teachers. Yet, as all things must, there comes a time when the student seeks to surpass the teacher.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;It probably will. But we will not be able to do anything ab-&quot; Lucius begins to say towards Milora. He is cut off by the lilting, Drake-like voice coming from Serath's mouth and turns to watch in wonder. His mouth is agape, but he is silent. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> It would seem that, even as Vhramis moves through the camp to draw closer to where the ongoing discussion between Prince and Kamir progresses, that others in the camp have already seemed to have the same idea. The crowd begins to gather a respectable distance away from the pair, a mass of black leather and ringmail, the faces of the bearers a mix between stoic, curious, and concerned. Joining that group, Wolfsbane finally pauses again, staring as the story begins to be told. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Varal spits to the side, leveling a glare at Norran. Almost as an afterthought, he offers Milora a polite, &quot;M'lady.&quot; Chivalry aside, he begins to whisper a prayer for protection as he watches. Once he finishes that prayer, he begins another to banish the Shadow. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Katriana Nillu frowns, turning her gaze from Norran and Milora to the spectacle being gawked at by the majority of the camp. She steps away from the grouping of people, and drifting closer to better catch the words being spoken. As she passes by, she pats Varal very lightly on the shoulder. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:maroon">Beyond the Camp: &quot;The Drakar’ri dwell here still, while the Kamir ... &quot; The tall offworlder's voice trails away for a few moments of silence as he considers the implications of the words uttered through Serath's mouth. &quot;Did you smite them for their insolence?&quot; His voice isn't raised - it remains even, curious. &quot;Did your people slaughter mine to prevent our ascension?&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Celeste moves to stand at the ranger's side. Her hand reaching to gently place against his forearm. &quot;... the prince,&quot; she mummers with sadness. Her eyes darting from Vhramis to the two gathered, she stands pressed with that small group as well. The woman intent to remain at Wolfsbane's side. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Kael simply swallows, listening - the burning flicker in his eyes growing more pronounced in his nervousness, the ashen leather of his own cloak out of place amongst the black and charcoal of the pathfinders' garb around him. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;... Allow me to hazard a guess that it is his Highness' voice you have heard before,&quot; Taran murmurs. &quot;Ai, Light... beyond light and shadow.&quot; It might be awe. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> And so the grin slips from Milora's face; she doesn't return Varal's greeting. The wall must be attended to - and so that's her focus, the wall and the two people standing before it. She joins the ranks of the stoic, becoming still and wrapping her arms around her own waist protectively. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Your words bring me invaluable comfort, Lucius,&quot; sarcastically quips the male Lomasa with a dry chuckle, crossing his own arms across his chest as he watches the goings-on. Although his saber rests at his side, he's making absolutely no attempt to hold it at the ready. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;The Prince is ever an enigma, it seems,&quot; murmurs Wolfsbane in response to the statement, earning a dig in the ribs from someone standing next to him in an unfriendly request to be quiet. He grimaces and acquiesces, not seeming to quite notice much else. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Celeste offers the ranger a half hearted smile, her attention as well rapt to the words spoken. Her hand brushing at the gold etched starburst upon the breast of the obsidian armor. Some part of a former conversation or memory shadowing her blue green eyes. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Lucius Nepos also moves closer to those assembled near the wall, taking in every word even if he doesn't really understand. Mostly though, he ignores everyone else around him. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Varal spits yet again once he finish his prayer, looking back to the two figures in disgust. He barely acknowledges Katriana's gesture with an ever-so-slight movement of his head. &quot;Oh, Rowena,&quot; he mutters, sad eyes staring at Serath. After a moment, he starts a new prayer. In the meantime, his men slowly make their way back to their lord. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Kael shakes his head - not looking at Taran, but intending it for him. &quot;th' red 'n th' blue - th' sound... sort o' like that. Nae him. Ne'er seen him... th'... th' prince?&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;... Kamir?&quot; Katriana questions herself as she watches, lips pressed together. &quot;I wonder what they are... &quot; She emits a soft sigh, eyes never leaving the ever so riveting sight. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Beyond the Camp: <span style="font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Arial;color:#993366">&quot;If only such tales were so simple, Marrokamir.&quot; <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> that lilting voice laments, Serath shaking his head in a mournful manner. Unseen, a sad smile caresses his features; the Prince evidently sharing in the memory of another creature. &quot;As the power of the Kamir blossomed, so too did the ambitions of those among you that believed that your race to be superior; that wished nothing more than to take what they claimed was theirs, and who believed that the Drakar’ri were holding such a prize captive from them.&quot; &quot;Perhaps you remember such elements spoken in hushed whispers from the period from whence fate delivered you? They were small, and the majority paid them little heed or attention. Yet small cracks have a habit of growing into deep fissures, and there were those among your people who began to fear the potential that these rogue elements may have harbored.&quot; &quot;From within the sparks of such concerns arose a great prophet: Timon'kamir. He alone foretold of a great rift between our two species, and he alone captured the hearts and imagination of your kind in speaking of the great evils that would be wrought against both the Kamir and the Drakar’ri should the path of the insurgent be walked upon. Yet for all his good intent, Timon'kamir would prove to be both the savior of your people, /and/ the architect of your destruction.&quot; &quot;Timon'kamir spoke of a coming conflict between our two species - a conflict that would be inevitable unless the Kamir returned to the old ways of mutual respect and learning. Yet his warning was twisted by those who could not see beyond their own limited skills of reasoning. If such a fate was inevitable, they claimed, then the Kamir must strike first to prevent the Drakari from bringing about such a future.&quot; &quot;And so they did, and the prophecy of Timon'kamir became self-fulfilling.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:maroon">Beyond the Camp: &quot;I knew Timon'kamir,&quot; the silver-haired stranger says, his voice carrying a hint of sadness. &quot;I was on my way to meet with him the day I ... crossed time, to the Il'ish'ahlashar of this when. He spoke on occasion of that premonition, but only in private and only after securing a vow of secrecy that I dared not betray. Timon'kamir was charismatic, but he could be vengeful too.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Wolfsbane doesn't look away from the ongoing drama, the man seemingly having very little to do that's worth doing. At least comparable to what else is occuring. He squeezes and brushes over the warbow he holds over his shoulders with his fingers, almost in a self comforting exercise, while his lips work to mouth silent words, likely meant only for himself. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> On foot, Griedan comes walking into the camp with a weary air about him. It takes him a while of milling about to come across Celeste, whom he approaches as inconspicuously as his large frame will allow him. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Celeste's own hand brushing still against the symbol of Light emblazoned upon her chest. Her eyes intent upon the strange outlander and man... brow furrowing at trying to comprehend the words spoken. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> For some reason, Lucius finds this the perfect time to eat some food. He pulls out a small chunk of bread from his belt and pops it into his mouth, giving the rest to Wheat who does the same. His attention remains consistantly on the exchange between Serath and Marrokamir, though. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Kael absently reaches down to the pouch at his waist, tugging out that sparkling river rock, turning it over in calloused fingers - it seems a reassuring gesture, a thing that steadies him as he listens to the words, shaken still. He even spares the Bard a flickering glance, where he stands next to horse and songster, before looking back down to the conversation as it goes on. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Beyond the Camp: <span style="font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Arial;color:#993366">&quot;Timon'kamir was not without resource, however.&quot; <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> Serath continues in the voice is that most certainly not his own, his stance remaining unchanging as he evidently serves as a tether for whatever it is that speaks through him. <span style="font-size: 10.0pt;font-family:Arial;color:#993366">&quot;Once the extent of the path of self-destruction that his words had unwittingly set in motion became clear to him, he remained true to the old traditions of your people and sought out a Dragoness by the name of Sara'tharalax for aid. Though there were those among the Drakar’ri, such as Val'sharax and his patriarch, Xil'varath, who eagerly awaited the hostility of your people, there were others who would not wish to take part in such a conflict unless they had to.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#993366"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#993366">&quot;The collision of the two races was an inevitable conclusion, they decided, and the arcane forces that would be unleashed in that event would sunder this world and have implications even beyond it. However, as Timon'kamir's prophecy has lead to two outcomes - that of salvation and destruction - so too would the culmination of that oracle.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#993366"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#993366">&quot;While those who would seek war would have it, those who sought to escape it would use the raw energy to fuel their own ascension beyond this lost world, seeking the stars as their haven and the worlds beyond it as their new home, free of that which had provoked it. And so, Marrokamir, the Drakar’ri and the Kamir clashed, as the prophecy had foretold, and a great Cataclysm devoured that which you name as Il'ish'ahlashar was consumed within the fires of that exchange.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#993366"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#993366">&quot;Of Timon'kamir, I cannot say; Sara'tharalax and those who aided her in her quest to send this curious prophet and his followers towards the stars succeeded in their task, yet it was not without loss. Those Kamir who remained behind are now buried beneath the land upon which they fought, and many of my kind fell to their own ambitions and bloodlust as well. Sara'tharalax was among them; yet hers was a different fate. Consumed by powers that even she could not understand, she was bound to this land in eternal undeath, while your own soared to the heavens as creatures of purity and essence.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">&quot;And that,&quot; Serath finally offers, his voice his own once more as he falls to his knees, &quot;Is the tale of this world. How my kind came to be here and witness all of this is a mystery that even Sara can't explain; one which remains little more than a footnote, all told.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Aye,&quot; Taran murmurs. &quot;There stands your prince.&quot; The bard seems... rather proud of this, though his voice is very soft. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Sweet Light,&quot; Katriana murmurs to herself. &quot;What other lies and untruths woven through our history?&quot; she questions quietly. &quot;How many other pieces of the past are forgotten or unspoken?&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Milora remains silent, although she mouths something incoherent - her arms relax, falling uselessly to her sides. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:maroon">Beyond the Camp: Marrokamir sighs as the drake's tale ends and the voice of the Prince returns. &quot;None of this would have happened if I had not been displaced in time that day.&quot; His eyes seek the stars in the sky above while a slender palm touches the cool stone of the Aegis. &quot;I was engaged by the <span style="font-size: 10.0pt;font-family:Arial;color:maroon">Six Moon Circle to assassinate Timon'kamir before he could spread his mad talk of conflict and expansion. Instead, I passed through that rift from then to now. He was spared. Our world was lost.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Wolfsbane drags his attention away, with great effort, to look for just a moment to Celeste, considering her face in search of reactions to the revelations overheard. His gaze drifts past her, naturally fixing on the large form of Griedan, the ranger half seeming surprised to see him standing there. Though any comments are withheld for the moment as he returns his focus ahead. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Millions, Katriana. Makes me wonder why we even follow the conventions we do.&quot; Lucius says, staring incredulously ahead. &quot;But, we're here. That's that.&quot; What a philosopher. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> There's an odd quaver in the young mage's voice as he murmurs, to Taran. &quot;Xil'varath...&quot; And then... just... turns that rock over, unable to take his eyes away from the conversation. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Celeste's own gaze turns towards Wolfsban, her hand reaching gingerly for the ranger's free arm, squeezing gently. Her own hands wet sweat, and trembling. The presence of the mason going unnoticed in the light of the revelation. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Griedan frowns a bit at the words being spoken, his face wrought with utter confusion. One meaty hand reaches up to scratch under his curls as he looks over towards Celeste. He offers the noblewoman an awkward bow that might now be somewhat familiar to her. &quot;My lady... &quot; he greets her, but has little else to say right now, it seems. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Aye. And Val'sharax below,&quot; Taran murmurs. He, too, has eyes and ears almost exclusively for the talking pair. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Katriana Nillu jumps a little as Lucius speaks to her, pulling the woman from whatever little zone she was caught up in. &quot;True, and that is what worries me,&quot; she murmurs. &quot;We have become what we are through lies, and deceit... &quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Beyond the Camp: The Prince is silent for a while as he remains there on his knees in front of the Aegis that looms ahead of him. &quot;The cataclysm was not without consequence either.&quot; he offers, softly, finally finding the strength to pull himself to his feet once more, &quot;Although I'm not sure of the details, it was not an event that washed clean a slate upon which we could rebuild. The dragons went into retreat, licking their wounds while swearing that such an event would never be permitted to pass. Those that would seek to command the world anew were contained and forced into captivity. Creatures twisted by shadow began to stalk the lands, many of whom we now call the Wildlings, though there are far more dangerous things beyond what we know, I'm sure.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">&quot;It was these Wildlings that provoked my kind to build this bulwark via the use of the darker aspects of the weave that they feared. It was the fear of those who wielded such power that caused my ancestors to banish them from this Empire. It was the hatred of this Empire that caused those same insurgents to curse this wall and smother all sparks of that which we name as the Light. It is the suffocation of the Light that has given rise to great darkness. Thus has history repeated itself in an abstract turn of events.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Conventions.&quot; The word is nearly silent as it comes out of Milora's mouth, inaudible to all but the very best and closest ears. Her fingers curl inward, and she blinks slowly. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:maroon">Beyond the Camp: &quot;You would have the curse removed, then,&quot; Marrokamir ventures. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Varal doesn't seem to be able to make heads or tails of what is going on. Confusion reigns in his eyes as he makes a motion to ensure silence from his men. However, as Serath speaks again the confusion disappears in a haze of self-righteous fury. &quot;The Light? Strangle?&quot; he snarls. &quot;The prince is a blasphemer as well as a coward.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Beyond the Camp: Serath finally turns to nod an affirmation towards Marrokamir. &quot;I would seek to restore the Light to Fastheld.&quot; he offers <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#993366">. &quot;As I would seek to prevent the prophecy of Timon'kamir from coming true a second time.&quot; <span style="font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Arial;color:#003366"> the lilting voice of a dragoness adds in kind; to which Serath can only smile. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#993366">&quot;To bathe Fastheld in the light of a silver dawn and undo that which has been damaged. To restore the balance between the three aspects of Light, Shadow, and those who fall beyond both. Indeed, that is my wish... and one I would seek your aid with, if you would offer it.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;The Prince has far greater wisdom and knowledge than you can ever hope to possess.&quot; Declares Lucius coldly, narrowing his eyes towards Varal as if he had just slighted the Empire itself. &quot;But I will say no more.&quot; He is utterly enthralled once again by the figures beyond the crowd. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;I'd not try, Varal,&quot; suddenly speaks the previously silent Duke, shaking his head slightly. &quot;That being single-handedly wiped out a decent portion of the Imperial Huntswood and a dozen Scourges in a flash of light. Blasphemer or not, we remain helpless to act lest we wish to unnecessarily slay ourselves.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;You have been beyond us for far too long, Varal... &quot; Katriana notes softly, sadly. &quot;Much has changed in that small portion of time, and the Prince only seeks to continue moving us forward, it seems.&quot; She sighs, looking at Lucius. &quot;Quiet. I wish to hear more,&quot; she chides. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Taran blinks. &quot;Those who fall beyond both... &quot; he murmurs. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Kael clings to that shining river rock, flickering gaze aside, odd awe aside - there's a strange an almost childlike hope there, a sudden smile at the Prince's words. Even Taran is forgotten as the mage takes a slow step forward, unsure. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;I've never...&quot; murmurs Vhramis, his mouthed words taking voice, before he shakes his head slightly. His expression darkens at some thought, the man's brows draw furrowed. &quot;...Val'sharax,&quot; he breathes, the name whispered, barely audible, as is the hint of venom in it. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;... he's right,&quot; mumbles Celeste with great sadness. &quot;There is no blasphemy. The Light may shine within our hearts... but the Blessed Holy are gone, yet thrive beyond the wall,&quot; remarks the Mikin. Her hand tightens about Wolfsbane's arm, the armored woman rocking as though hit by a physical blow. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> Beyond the Camp: The Kamir takes a little while to consider the request, allowing his hand to fall away from the stone and rest at his side as he paces quietly on the moonlit grass. &quot;It can be done,&quot; Marrokamir says at last, stopping on the other side of Serath and turning to face the ranger once more. &quot;The energy must be channeled from the Shadow Core.&quot; He regards the wall again, then speaks in a matter-of-fact tone: &quot;Should I succeed as a conduit, my corporeal form will lose cohesion and I should be able to leave this world. I can go forth among the stars, find those of my kind that yet survive.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Griedan pose can only stand there in surprise, awash in confusion. He scratches at his head again and for a man of his size, looks utterly lost and helpless. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Varal Mikin wheels on Lucius, fury in his eyes. Veins and arteries begins to stand out in his neck as he sharply intakes his breath. &quot;Wisdom? KNOWLEDGE?!&quot; The Mikin spits to the side. &quot;He is a puppet! A tool! And he denies all that is good, all that is holy? This is your wisdom, Lucius Nepos? Then you are a blind, damned fool. Damned!&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;As for you, my *dear* Duke,&quot; the Mikin's tone becomes chilly, dangerous, as it addresses Norran, &quot;I'm insulted that you would even think that I would fear a righteous death. I do not fear him. I do not fear that Shadow. Better I die here, now, revealing the EVIL he is than stand by idly - like you /spineless/ *imbeciles*! Perhaps it is good that I've been away and not blinded by whatever foul sorcery has blinded this realm.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Beyond the Camp: <span style="font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Arial;color:#993366">&quot;Through my avatar, I will do what I can to displace the taint that those who forged this creation, and who stored the shadow within to subvert the light beyond, and channel it through you. The aid that I once granted Timon'kamir shall now be extended to one who was taken from his place in the natural order and brought here. Should we succeed in this quest, Marro'kamir, I wish you the peace of the Light, and the serenity to find your lost people, should they still call the heavens home.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">The soft, lilting voice of a Dragoness is replaced once more by the more conventional regal purr of Serath Kahar. &quot;Light only knows how she expects me to do this.&quot; he offers as an aside, tapping the Aegis wall lightly with his right hand before drawing the steel longsword from its slumber at his hip and then pitching it, tip first, into the yielding soil beneath. &quot;But we can but try. Though it may not mean much from a race as young as my own to one as old as yours, Marrokamir, I thank you.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Lucius Nepos appears to be mostly unaffected by Varal's outburst, looking back only as he's spoken to with a blank expression. &quot;Go then. Charge the Prince. Or spread your word, whatever you wish. Your deep, narrow experience in the way of the world both inside and outside the Aegis will serve you, I'm sure.&quot; Shrugging, the armoured man turns back to watch. &quot;This is more important than your zealotry, Varal Mikin.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:maroon">Beyond the Camp: Marrokamir inclines his head slightly and, for the first time since his arrival in the here and now of the world of Il'ish'ahlashar, a crooked smile graces his angular face. &quot;A Drakar’ri serving the Light. I cannot help but find such a concept... amusing.&quot; He smacks his palm on the stone. &quot;Whenever you are ready, we can begin.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Frowning, Milora seems to come back to life - she turns, fixing Varal with an unsteady and unfriendly gaze. A nod is given towards Lucius. &quot;There is little stopping you from doing exactly as you please, sir,&quot; she says coldly. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Have you looked at how Fastheld has changed in your absence?&quot; Katriana inquires of Varal calmly. &quot;There is no sorcery, only /truth/. The Shadow walks freely among us. They are friends, family and strangers. The Church is gone, condemned by its close minded ways. Will you follow in their footsteps, Varal? You cannot force a stop to the changes that are being made in front of you.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> The words which reach Griedan's ears seem strike him as though they were an unseen hand clenched into a fist. The big mason reels in place, and takes a step back to keep himself from falling over on the spot. &quot;Wh-wha? But... wait... no.../ <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Oblivious to the argument, Vhramis tenses a bit as he continues to watch those standing near the Aegis wall. &quot;Look,&quot; he whispers to Celeste and Griedan, his voice holding a hint of awe. &quot;...they're going to do it.&quot; He almost seems ready to move forward towards the guarding ring of other Pathfinders, but he manages to keep himself rooted to the ground. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> “Righteous? I don't consider it righteous to march off a cliff or drown myself in a river. Charging those two would grant a death just as sure if not far more agonize. All that would come of it is a unanimous decree that whoever charged those two were absolute fools for doing so. There is little point in trying to preach to this bunch of the old ways, Varal. No-one cares any longer. Know them as I might, I've learned the hard way. Still your anger, for it will do you no good,&quot; is all Norran can offer to Varal, staring at the sight before him. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Beyond the Camp: &quot;She was a rare one, apparently.&quot; Serath agrees, the Prince taking a measure of mirth from Marrokamir's own unexpected display of emotion as he turns back to the matter at hand, tracing a line with his finger down the side of the old granite before permitting it to stop upon that single distinctive and utterly out of place slab of obsidian. &quot;Now, how to start this? Negating the power of a Mage is one thing, but a wall the size of the Aegis... &quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">He takes a deep breath, backpedals a few paces away from the Aegis, and then kneels in front of the pitched cross of the steel longsword he previously planted into the earth. Wrapping both hands around the hilt of that weapon - one above the other - the Prince begins the attempt by closing his eyes, and regulating his breathing pattern. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Taran moves to stay with Kael, putting a light hand on the man's shoulder. &quot;Wait,&quot; he breathes quietly. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Perhaps you are wise to advise calm, as I once did for you,&quot; Varal concedes to Norran, clamping on his anger but no succeeding. The Mikin appears content to ignore Milora. He turns to Katriana. &quot;How am I the blind one? Not all change is good. Have you forgotten your history? Yes - those who are touched can live amongst us, even be good people. Do you know what a shock that was to me? I still haven't swallowed that. But the Shadow has threatened Fastheld for all time. Do you remember Hawk's Aerie and the Wildlings? Do you remember Light's Reach and the drake?&quot; Varal pounds his chest. &quot;The Shadow is /always/ a threat to us, and we have forsaken our protection. We have forsaken the Light!&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> The Mikin looks at the ground a moment, collecting his thoughts, perhaps a little defeated. &quot;The Church committed sins, I'm sure. The innocent were hounded. People were hurt. Perhaps its disappearance is healthy, on some level - but we are forfeiting our /very souls/. The Light is our *spiritual Aegis*. Losing it is unacceptable, and we -are- losing it. Perhaps, I alone, cannot take action to change that. Perhaps this is a hopeless quest - but I will, unto my last breath, take that charge. I will not allow the Light to fade so long as I live.&quot; He turns and looks at Serath. &quot;However I can.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;He channels the White Dragon,&quot; Vhramis murmurs to Celeste and Griedan, sidestepping slightly to bring him closer to them to speak. Repeating the obvious, sure, but the growing excitement beginning to edge into his voice is somewhat obvious. &quot;This will... the Kahars...&quot; he begins to speak, before the weight of whatever it was he was getting at causes his eyes to widen slightly, his grip vice like on the seraphite bow. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:maroon">Beyond the Camp: The Kamir closes his own eyes, lifts his face to bathe in moonlight, and spreads his arms out at a narrow angle. A shadowy purple aura begins to coalesce around him, writhing its way from the tips of the blades of grass at his feet, up and around his legs, around his waist, coiling across his chest, and finally masking his head. His eyes open and the cerulean glow of his eyes has been muted to a pale mossy hue. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;... she... exists,&quot; cries out Celeste in surprise. The loudest her voice has been, turning to the ranger... eyes wide at the words he speaks. The ranger's response causing the woman's own hand to slip from it's tracing to rest on the mace at her side. &quot;...Vhramis, are you... okay?&quot; Concern and fear tracing the noblewoman's voice. Even the two strange men forgotten for a moment at the ranger's reaction. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Beyond the Camp: For his own part, Serath begins to emanate an aura of his own. In contrast to the shadowy aura of his Kamir companion, Serath's is a pure white light, as clear as it is holy. It would seem that the trick here is not to cancel out Marrokamir's own control of the Shadow as he himself serves as conduit for the Light; a balance that, given Marrokamir's control, seems to be juggled well. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Lucius Nepos grasps his shield tightly against his body, actually putting himself in between Varal, the rangers and the two figures. He stares straight ahead and says, perhaps as a word of warning, or perhaps simply words, &quot;I'd advise you to wait until this is over, Varal Mikin. Then he turns around to watch once more. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Through the haze of his shock, the angry words of Varal Mikin cut into his mind. The freelander looks to the nobleman and nods his head in agreement with him. &quot;Aye, that.&quot; he murmurs, though looks at Vhramis with some awe as well at his own words. &quot;I'm confused... what do we do?&quot; his doe-brown eyes focus upon Celeste. &quot;My Lady?&quot; he asks her, hopeful. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;I can never forget those devastations, Varal,&quot; Katriana challenges, shifting her attention away from the more exciting and glowing scene to the agitated Mikin. &quot;But without Light there is no Shadow, and without the Shadow, our Light is meaningless. They have to balance each other. It is not just our faith, but the entirety of life. The Light shall never fade, but only grow brighter in the presence of the darkness that all speak of.&quot; Her voice drops down slightly. &quot;Do not throw away your life for a cause that is fool hearted, and not worth it. You must accept what our home has become.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Milora turns, following the common gaze as she focuses on the wall. Absently, on of her hands is extended to grasp Norran's forearm; the other goes to the silver clasp at her throat. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><b> For those who are touched by the Shadow, the connection between the present Self and the Weave beyond seems to be slipping. The volume of noise from the darkness falls quieter; the link between the 'here' and the 'there' silently melting away. </b> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:maroon">Beyond the Camp: Slowly, Marrokamir reaches out toward the obsidian stone that proved so symbolic to the downfall of the world as he had known it, and touches his fingertips to the cool black rock. A brief flash of blue marks the connection of Shadow and stone, and suddenly there's a roiling of dark energy that shifts within the very stones that form the Aegis. Black cirrus clouds of mordant energy start draining from left, right, above, and below ... toward the Kamir's fingertips. The Aegis curse made manifest. &quot;Now,&quot; mutters the Shadow-writhed outsider to the luminescent Prince. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Too many here would be willing to land an arrow in either of our backsides to see this come to pass, Varal, despite the consequences. Curiosity gets the better of them, apparently,&quot; continues the voice of Norran, his expression that of a grim frown as he watches the events unfold. &quot;Balance? That doesn't even make sense. A world of Light is a great deal better than a world of Shadow, or even half. Why should there be a balance? If your only response to be is 'Because there must be, or else neither can exist without the other', I don't see how you can prove that with such circular reasoning.&quot; As the sight continues, he grows silent once more. Milora's grasp goes unnoticed. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> That flickering in Kael's eyes - the nervous touch of it - fades like so much smoke, the young man blinking... and expression becoming searching; that of a man listening to something, and finding it wanting. The men at the wall, the hand on his shoulder - even the outburst behind, nothing to whatever sound he strains to hear. His expression changes to one of an oddly yearning hope, and ... perhaps, an even more terrible longing, eyes going to Taran as he grips that stone tighter - the truly observant would note the blood drawn as the sharp edges of that shining rock dig into a grip gone tight and white. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;…just look at it,&quot; murmurs the ranger in response to the question, trembling slightly as the conflicting auras begin to spread, however his attention is fully on Serath's form. &quot;Look at it. Oh, my Lady Mikin...it's his salvation.&quot; His green eyes begin to glisten with some welling emotion. At the flash of blue light, and as the black begins to seep from the wall, Wolfsbane swallows hard. &quot;He saves us all.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Varal spits to the side, shaking his head. &quot;Drivel,&quot; he sputters angrily at Katriana and Norran. The statement is given as an explanation of everything. He points at his men. &quot;Stay,&quot; he commands, then moves around Lucius. With a slow, steady stride, he does what everyone says not to do - moves towards the pair, far away as they are. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Taran blinks. Frowns. Blinks a bit more. Looks around him, as if to verify that other people are in fact there. The hand on Kael's shoulder grips reflexively hard for a moment, as if verifying the other's reality. &quot;... Normal?&quot; he murmurs, as if trying to figure out if a) that is the case, and b) whether it's a blessing or a curse. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;... oh cousin.&quot; tear weep from Celeste's eyes. She continues to stand close to the ranger's side, hanging upon his words. Yet, the brilliance and shadow made manifest draws the eyes of the former scourge... a tear slipping down her cheek at the sight. Even her breath seems unable to continue, held. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Why can I not watch world changing events in /peace/?&quot; Asks Lucius, in a tone that would probably indicate it was more a rhetorical statement than anything else. Moving at the same speed as Varal is, his eyes half on the orbs of light and shadow that are in front of him, half on the back of the Mikin nobleman. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Beyond the Camp <span style="font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Arial;color:maroon">: <span style="font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Arial;color:#993366">&quot;So be it.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">At that command the Prince opens his eyes, his gaze fixated upon the Aegis ahead of him. The auras of shadow whirl with the auras of light, culminating in a column of purity ascending from the kneeling Prince and rising into the heavens to part the clouds above. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">The events that follow seem to happen in rapid succession: There's a flare of channeled power from beyond this realm of existence, sparking a raw manifestation of the Light as spiritual draconian wings, as insubstantial as they are awesome, blossom from Serath's back. Night turns to day as the Prince serves as catalyst between the /here/ and the /there/ beyond, the Avatar of the White Dragon bring her ancient powers to bear as he attempts to void the entire Aegis Curse. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Above the pair, in a vertical line above and beyond where that single stone of darkness rested, a fissure begins to form within the rock of the Aegis. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Katriana Nillu simply narrows her eyes at Norran, shaking her head sadly. Her attention is more to the Mikin as she unshoulders her bow and withdraws an arrow to nock. &quot;Varal, do not make me,&quot; she says tiredly. But her steady grip on the bow seems to tremble as the light appears. &quot;Sweet Light... &quot; she murmurs, her hands dropping down to her side, arrow falling harmlessly onto the ground. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><b> For those who are touched by the Shadow, that connection is utterly severed now; the outward flow of the Light negating all such connections to the darkness. </b> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Griedan looks back and forth between Celeste and Vhramis, Varal, and the pair at the Aegis. He seems stuck in indecision, caught in a web of his own deeply held beliefs and the reality that lies before him. As the fissure forms in the great wall, his eyes go wide with horror. &quot;Oh no! He's going to bring the bloody thing down! We'll be left open to the horrors outside!&quot; His voice is tinged with fear. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:maroon">Beyond the Camp: With these manifestations comes a deep, tremulous thrumming in the earth itself. Chunks of the Aegis tumble from hundreds of feet up, bouncing off some unseen protective field that now surrounds the pair. Marrokamir hunches a little, burdened not by the collapsing debris but by the energy channeled through him. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:maroon"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:maroon">&quot;Not... much... longer,&quot; he says through clenched teeth. In the sky above, beyond the clouds and seemingly before the moons, as the fissure continues to grow in the Aegis, a latticework of red lines flickers, flares, and then goes dark. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Kael's eyes shine - not with light, but with tears, his expression one of an ineffable loss crossed with that odd hope, staring at Serath and the wings of Light surrounding him. The mage looks down to his hands... then up again, unwilling to look away for long. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> As the scene continues, a lone sound of seemingly /cheerful/ applause coming from Norran as he claps his hands together loudly. &quot;Glorious! I'll remember this sight when the wildlings are tearing out my entrails next week! I should've brought a bottle of sundrop! I sure hope the stone doesn't crush us first!&quot; laughs the Duke aloud, a bizarre grin across his face as he continues to watch excitedly. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Not the physical wall. The Aegis stays,&quot; Vhramis answers, voice trembling in excitement and near rapture, the man staring in awe at the cleansing occuring before them. &quot;They remove another sort of wall. The taint will be eradicated. Hope will blossom.&quot; His left hand snaps down to grasp at Celeste's, squeezing it desperately. &quot;His son...&quot; He loses his voice at that, his knees shaking. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Varal stop in his tracks a moment, raising his left arm to block the Serath's blinding aura. &quot;Oh, Light... &quot; he mutters, but like any good zealot does not vacillate. Reaching the ring of pathfinders, he attempts to muscle through - willfully ignoring falling chunks of the Aegis. &quot;Light guide my hand, protect my frail body, watch over my eternal soul...&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Lucius Nepos stops abruptly in his place when the column opens up in the sky. He stares at it with the wonderment only equal to the first time he set eyes on a Drake, and raises his shield out of reflex, over his head. The seraphite glow of the Lady's Aegis is drowned out completely by the pure light. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Taran looks a little pale, under the hood of his cloak. He, too, has tears in his tilted eyes, watching the white dragon. &quot;Did I not tell you, my lady, that it could be real?&quot; he asks the air. &quot;But... glorious.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;You say this is the path of Shadow and Darkness, Varal Mikin,&quot; Katriana shouts after the only moving man. &quot;Don't you see? This is pure /LIGHT/. How do you find evil and corruption through something so beautiful and good? The Prince will save us from the evil that eats at us all from the inside. Do not seek to destroy our last hope.&quot; A few tears slide down the Nillu's cheeks as she remains glued in place, only able to watch. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Celeste takes Vhramis's, her own returning the squeeze. Tears coursing down her cheeks, unbidden. &quot;... .a new beginning, Vhramis,&quot; she mummers with hope to the ranger at her side. The other hand dropping away from the mace, to touch the starburst to her chest. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Stepping away from Norran momentarily, Milora regards the man with wide eyes. A breath is taken, and she looks at the spectacle with her large eyes wide and round - at last she steps forward, wrapping her arms around Norran's waist and pulling herself close to him as she remains transfixed. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Then why is the bloody thin' tearing itself apart?!&quot; Griedan nearly yells at Vhramis, panic now forming across his features. &quot;Are yeh blind, man? There's a hole in it!&quot; He wheels around to stare at Celeste as if he's never seen her before. &quot;Stone... it... it's stone. I know stone I can... I can put it back together!&quot; he starts to laugh a maniacal laugh of futility as might come from one who has just been stabbed through the heart and knows that he is already dead. The large stonemason begins to shamble forwards against the glare of the bright aura, wobbling as he goes. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Beyond the Camp: Where Marrokamir is burdened, it would seem that Serath himself has been relieved of a great weight. While his Kamir companion struggles, Serath merely stands. Where his Kamir companion labors, Serath walks free of such trouble. His path leads him around the longsword and to Marrokamir's side, the Prince placing a gloved hand upon the arm of the taller figure, offering a soft nod in turn. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Above the two, the fissure grows, yet the falling rocks hold their place within the sky above, halted in mid-fall. It is if time has been brought to a halt... and yet not at all. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#993366">&quot;I deem the terms of our trade fulfilled, Marrokamir.&quot; the lilting voice of Sara'tharalax offers, &quot;You are free to find your people. May the stars guide your wings, the light warm your face, and the shadow cower in your wake.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">The wings dissipate as smoothly as they had flared; the Princes hair now a radiant silver, devoid of all of their previous color. The aura remains, as does the channeled power <span style="font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Arial;color:maroon">. <span style="font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Arial;color:#993366">&quot;Serenity will calm this storm, and we shall have atoned for Timon'kamir's unknowing sins. The silver dawn has risen. It can only continue to soar.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Vhramis swallows heavily, mouth parting as if he attempts to speak. He fails once, before a renewed effort finds his voice. &quot;The Aegis, Master...&quot; he states again, his voice unsteady. “We're our own Aegis. Our own shield. Crown's Refuge... you had to have seen it. You have to understand.&quot; And then, all ends, leaving the ranger staring at Serath, the rocks frozen in fall only receiving a brief, unconcerned glance. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Celeste follows Vhramis's gaze towards the mason, seeming him for the first time. &quot;It is hard to explain the Refuge, Master Griedan... but I will explain when we return home.&quot; With that, she glances towards the ranger once more, giving his hand another gentle squeeze. Her own gaze returning back to the prince <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:maroon">Beyond the Camp: &quot;Thank you,&quot; the Kamir replies, turning a Shadow-masked gaze up toward the Prince. &quot;May your world thrive anew.&quot; And then the roiling purple shrouds begin to unravel from Marrokamir's hunched form, twirling around the shaft of silver light that marks the path of the fissure toward the sky. But where the shrouds should end and the Kamir begins becomes intermingled, and threads of Marrokamir's corporeal form follow the swirl of energy around the pillar to the waiting stars until Serath stands alone. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> It is the voice that has Kael looking away, tears falling freely - eyes tracking down the line of pathfinders to see Varal moving to - and trying to move through them. He finds his own voice in that, moving away from the bard instinctively, in the direction of the Mikin zealot, raising his empty hand. &quot;NO!... y' cannae'...&quot; He shakes his head. &quot;y' donnae feel 't - wait!&quot; The Mark on his cheek is stark in the white radiance of the events of the Aegis. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Varal gets pushed away from the circle of rangers, before he can react to Kael's call. The Mikin stumbles back, catching a glimpse, perhaps for the first time, of Serath in all his glory as Avatar of Light. He drops to his knees, ignoring the plethora of bows being drawn and arrows being notched. &quot;Oh, sweet Light,&quot; he mutters, awestruck. He's silent for a long moment, a hard thing to accomplish, before he begins praying yet again - but neither for protection nor against the Shadow: a prayer of thanks. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;We see. We see.&quot; Lucius whispers to himself, his green blue eyes darting from the rocks, to Serath, to the vanishing form of Marrokamir and back. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Beyond the Camp: And stand alone he does, watching the last tendrils of the reborn Marrokamir ascend towards the stars, and the answers to the questions that he seeks, before turning his attention to the chunks of Aegis that hang suspending in the air above him, threatening to come crashing down upon both himself, and those behind him. &quot;Pesky.&quot; he comments to no one in particular. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#993366">&quot;Indeed.&quot; <span style="font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Arial;color:#003366"> replies the lilting voice of his Drakar’ri matron. <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#993366">&quot;For too long have your people depending on this wall. Perhaps it is time to teach them to depend on their own nature.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">&quot;Perhaps you're right.&quot; Serath affirms, raising his right hand towards those blocks and then... re-channeling their descent. The fissure and the rocks that were cast from it begin to construct a part of the Aegis anew; a section that leaves the gap intact, providing a neat &quot;H&quot; shaped channel between the gap that presents a path to the Wildlands beyond, and the new road that Fastheld may yet walk. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> As Varal comes to a halt, Katriana lets out a breath in relief, her bow now falling to the ground at her feet to join the arrow. &quot;Oh, Light,&quot; she murmurs, staring at the newly formed section of the Aegis, and the way to the Wildlands. &quot;Freedom to walk that path again,&quot; she whispers. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Kael stumbles the few steps it takes to get to the praying zealot and - oddly enough, unthinking, reaches out to rest a calloused hand on the zealot's shoulder, even as the rocks reform, awed face still streaked with tears. The mage drops to a knee next to the man - the prayer he doesn't know, but in his own way he shares in it, looking down at that stained rock - then up to Serath in the full glow of his power. &quot;Light...&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Taran remains spellbound, staring out at the lands beyond the wall. &quot;... F...reedom.&quot; His mouth shapes the word but breath does not give it voice. &quot;I will wake tomorrow and this will be a dream...” <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Griedan comes to a sudden halt as the aegis reforms itself with the channel inside. His eyes, already wide try to bug out of his head then as he stops to look at himself, staring at his hands in wonder. &quot;I... I...  uhm... &quot; He wobbles in place, and for him, the world seems to spin about. The events seem to be too much for the burly stonemason's mind to take, and his eyes roll back into his head. Another wobble and he collapses on the spot. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Beyond the Camp: With the casual air of a man at peace with the world around him, Serath offers one final glance towards the stars, whispers something that only he can hear, and then turns away from the Aegis to retrieve the previously planted longsword. With a gentle heft, the blade is pulled free from the ground below before finally being set to slumber within the scabbard at his hip once more. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> A small, slender figure, draped in a black cotton cloak that hides near all of its shape and features, finally approaches the group from a silent vantage point rather back behind everyone, possibly unnoticed by being in the opposite direction everyone is looking. Yet the progress is not complete- the person hangs back and watches in silence still. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Celeste smiles with approval at seeing the opening remain, &quot;... I promised to come back.&quot; The words whispered as tears of joy continue to course down her fair cheeks. She smiles towards the ranger, offering another encouraging squeeze to Vhramis's hand. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><b> The void between Light and Shadow melts away as softly as it came. In the wake of such events, the connection between the Shadow and those who can reach it establishes itself once more; and the connection between the Light and those who did not know they were kissed by it awakens anew. </b> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Wolfsbane remains still, openly staring as Serath. Disbelief almost in his eyes. &quot;...it's glorious,&quot; he breathes. &quot;Can you feel it? Everything has changed.&quot; A small shudder flows through his form as his eyes slide closed, the man drawing in a soft breath, before looking forward again. He smiles. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Oh,&quot; pauses Norran, his voice nearly disappointed as he frowns toward the wall. &quot;A shame, I was so looking forward to all that. Oh well. I suppose the Emperor'll just build a gate in front of it or wall it up. We'll see.&quot; It only seems to occur to him now that Milora is hugging him, Norran granting her a brief snicker as he nudges her with an elbow. &quot;Well. Suppose we'd be going back to East Leg, then. It seems I'll have plenty concerns to tend to.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> After finishing the prayer, Varal stares at his hands. &quot;I... Something...  I... &quot; He stops at starts, and gives up. He shakes his head, and seems stunned, lost. He makes no effort to stand up. &quot;This changes everything. I'm... I'm lost.&quot; He buries his head in his hands. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Katriana Nillu intakes a slow breath, looking around her, at the others present to witness such a sight, before back to the wall, taking steps towards it. &quot;Varal?&quot; she inquires softly on her approach. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Laying a hand on the Duke's chest, Milora, from under his arm, looks up at Norran. &quot;I wish you had brought a bottle of sundrop,&quot; she tells him, smiling. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath and releases a gentle sigh. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> By the zealot's side, the young mage's face changes yet again - eyes flickering to that odd, fiery life over an expression of relief and yet... somehow, sadness that seeps in around the edges. For a moment, he collapses around himself, seeming to sag a bit... and then, oddly enough... he offers Varal, of all people, that stained and shining bit of river mica. &quot;... jus' somewhere t' start from, aye?&quot; So very odd, his tone - not quite sad, but oddly gentle. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Celeste looks to Vhramis, meeting his smile with one of her own... the smile faltering and slipping away. She takes a step back to find Griedan. The woman lowers to her knees. Her hand reaching for the mason's face. Tears, and soft sobs coming to the armored woman's voice. There she sits, hand pressed to the unconscious man's face... crying. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> As Celeste moves away from him, Vhramis' attention is finally drawn to where Griedan lays unconscious on the ground. He blinks, before finally stepping over to peer downward. &quot;...too much for him, I think,&quot; he states, sounding understanding as he regards the unconscious mason. &quot;...too much for all of us, almost.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> A subtle shift and the hope fades as the bard's expression turns to a wince of pain. &quot;Dreams always end,&quot; he murmurs sadly. Wrapping his cloak tightly about himself, he moves back... back to find his horse. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Plenty of it back in East Leg,&quot; decides Norran, and just like that, he's off to make his way briskly toward the clearing from whence he came, whistling to himself. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> As one of Celeste's tears fall upon Griedan's face, he twitches, but doesn't as yet regain consciousness. It takes a bit more flecks of dampness to draw him out of the cocoon his mind has placed about itself in self-defense. AS his eyes flicker open, there is something different about them. &quot;I... what happened to me? I feel strange.&quot; he murmurs in his husky voice. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> When zeal crumbles, faith warps, righteousness fails, and belief vanishes - a man loses his foundations. The ground beneath him disappears. Varal is too stubborn to cry, too lost to have bearings. &quot;Someplace to start,&quot; he repeats emptily. &quot;Yes.&quot; Katriana's call doesn't seem to rouse him from his dazed state. &quot;I'm so confused. Wha... what happened here?&quot; He starts to regain himself, turning a moment. &quot;Katriana?&quot; Probably for the best he has yet to look at Kael - especially the face. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Beyond the Camp: After casting a final look back over his shoulder at the gap in the Aegis, and at the somewhat more tranquil feeling bulwark itself, Serath turns to address the gathered rangers. &quot;Pathfinders!&quot; he calls, &quot;The Silver Dawn has risen; I ask you now to remain here until the Imperial Watch arrive to secure the gap, and to make sure that no darkness shadows the light from beyond.&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Grinning, Milora lets Norran pull away from her and then follows after him, pressing a hand to her face. &quot;I don't believe I'll ever be quite the same,&quot; she remarks to him, letting her hand trail down her neck to her shoulder and blinking a few times successively. &quot;I feel so lightheaded.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;You fell unconscious,&quot; provides Celeste, offering the man a wan smile. &quot;Will you be alright to travel, Master Griedan? If not, I can get you an inn room near here.&quot; The noblewoman's voice sounding hollow, distant. She looks up at to the ranger again, &quot;I didn't realize she existed, Vhramis.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Wolfsbane's eyes shift to regard Celeste for a moment, considering her, before he smiles warmly at her, nodding his head slightly. As Serath's commanding voice rings out through the camp, he glances back, before clearing his throat. &quot;Make sure he gets home safe. I'm sure Lady Sophia and Lord Fael will be glad to have you as guests at <span style="font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Arial">Wedgecrest <span style="font-size: 10.0pt;font-family:Arial"> <span style="font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Arial">Falls ,&quot; he murmurs to Mikin. With a nod to her, and a faint smile to Griedan, he turns about to make his way to the circle of Pathfinders, nodding his head to the group as he takes his place. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> The cloaked figure haltingly approaches the group a little closer, reaching up with black-gloved hands to tug the hood closer around the hidden face underneath it. A gleam of eyes underneath betrays little, mostly that they are watching everything and everyone very intently. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Katriana Nillu drops down onto her knee next to Varal, one hand resting on his shoulder. &quot;What happened? The last thing I saw was you coming to a very abrupt halt, just short of scaring the Light out of me,&quot; she replies. Her gaze looks up to Kael and she smiles weakly, before she returns to the Mikin. &quot;Come, have a drink with me in town. You look as though you could use it. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> [ <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Celeste looks over her shoulder, smiling at the retreat of the ranger. &quot;... I knew you were,&quot; she mumbles to herself with amusement. Her sad gaze turning back to the mason to help him to his feet. The woman able to help him and moving off towards Rampart. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Taran pauses in his tracks at Serath's command, and grips his staff. &quot;Aye, well. There must be a reason,&quot; he says to himself, and returns to the wall. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Kael reaches down and just places that rock in Varal's hand... moving to stand, carefully. &quot;... wi' pass. An' dawn wi' come, aye.&quot; He wipes at his face with a sleeve, raising that hood - &quot;o' mabye 't jus' did.&quot; Sadly, the young man turns away from the Mikin zealot and the Nillu archer, moving a few paces from them, eyes going to the new gate in the Aegis. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">Beyond the Camp: As for the protagonist of this tale? The Prince merely offers a solemn smile to those who may be looking, turns about, and then ventures forth towards that gap in the Aegis... </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">And then through it... </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366"> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> <span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial; color:#003366">And then beyond it, turning towards the west and evidently vanishing behind that vast bulwark to trail along the base that leads from the middle to the western end. To where? Who can say where the paws of the Wildcat will lead him now? </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Varal rubs his face with a hand. &quot;New dawn, indeed.&quot; With a sigh and a grunt, he attempts to get back up to his feet. It takes him two tries. &quot;Shadow be Burned, that drink sounds like the best idea I've ever heard.&quot; Moving towards Katriana, he looks back down at his hands. &quot;Did the Light just Kiss us, Katriana? Perhaps you were right... &quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> A sadness appears. &quot;Perhaps you, Varal, but I was not so blessed,&quot; Katriana says quietly. &quot;But this was indeed a new dawning. A fresh start for all.&quot; She rises slowly to her feet, tracking back to her previous spot to pick up her previously forgotten bow, looping it over her shoulder, followed by the arrow which gets slid back into its quiver. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> The cloaked figure drifts forward to get a better look at the gap in the wall, studying it cautiously and hmming to- yes, probably herself, with that sound. She looks up at it all, shaking her head slowly. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Celeste continues to help the unconscious man towards a set of guards who listened to a few hushed words from the Mikin. Sure enough, they take the man from the noblewoman, ferrying him off to Wedgecrest. The lone figure of the woman continuing on towards the mare, reaching for the reigns. She glances back towards the walls, one hand reaching up to brush back her hair from her eyes. &quot;... this will be harder to explain,&quot; she muses. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Varal looks at Katriana, curious. &quot;No? Maybe... I don't know, Katriana, I just don't know anymore.&quot; He smiles wanly at his men as they bring him his horse. &quot;I meant what I said earlier, though. Most of it. Some of it was wrong... but still... one cannot deny the Light.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Taran takes it upon himself to approach the cloaked figure. &quot;... Best not to go through just yet,&quot; he says. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Wolfsbane rubs at his face with a gloved hand and puffs a soft breath from where he stands with the other rangers. Glancing to one milling about next to him, he nudges at their side with an elbow. &quot;...don't suppose you have any jerky, do you?&quot; he mutters. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;We have entered into a new era, Varal,&quot; Katriana says quietly. &quot;I have never denied the Light to be the most important aspect that protects us from evil, but... &quot; She shakes her head, gesturing towards the gaping hole. &quot;I have been out there. I have /seen/. I can never be as I once was, when you first knew me. The balance of Shadow and Light offers a peace that I did not understand before.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Kael just stands alone, looking past the pathfinders at the gap, fists clenched - cloak wide and flaring slightly in the slight breeze. &quot;An' in that, everythin' changes.&quot; He shakes his head, drawing back his hood - smile sad, gaze going up to the sky. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Varal shakes his head slowly. &quot;I don't know about balance, Katriana. I don't believe in balance. There will always be human failings - obstacles to the light that create the Shadow. But we should always strive for the Light. To mention balance implies that some, in equal proportion to Light, must embrace the Shadow... &quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> From Rampart's saddle, Celeste tugs on the reigns, pulling herself up in the saddle. The woman of many words finally at a loss as she tugs the mare back towards Wedgecrest. Her face can only be explained as contemplative. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Shadow does not necessarily equal evil,&quot; Katriana points out. &quot;My sister is Touched. The man who helped you moments ago is Touched.&quot; Her gaze shifts over to Kael for a moment. &quot;It does not mean they are evil as the Church has professed for so long. There possess a darker something that I cannot understand, and they will never be Children of the Light, but it does not mean the Light will shun them either.&quot; She sighs, starting to walk slowly back towards Wedgecrest. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Taran sighs. &quot;He will need you,&quot; he says softly to the cloaked figure. &quot;You should go and find him. I must bide a while.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> After a moment of the other pathfinder fishing about in their cloak, they draw out a stick of meat and pass it over to Vhramis, who gladly takes it and begins gnawing on it. After a few moments, Wolfsbane looks back to him, speaking with mouth full. &quot;...what is this? Dog?&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> The other ranger just looks to him and smiles. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> The figure tenses immediately, her voice sharp and a little high as she quickly replies, &quot;I don't... &quot; But her voice trails off, and she sighs, muttering, &quot;If you truly think so.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Varal frowns a moment. &quot;You are asking me to shed years of prejudice that I've only seen to need reinforcing, Katriana. I'm willing to except the Touched - if the Light touches souls, so must the Shadow. But being Touched and acting upon it are two different things. I see no problem with being Touched... so long as you embrace the Light. But I wouldn't call it, well, not balance.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Do you truly think such as what you have seen would have no effect on a nearby mage?&quot; asks Taran quietly. &quot;Ask him to stay here with you if you wish, but do not leave him alone... just listen to the commotion already begun.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;I don't know what I've seen,&quot; the cloaked girl confesses, &quot;not... really, at all. I didn't think you'd want me to come. ... But you're right. I'll... I'll do that, then.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;I have too long been questioning my own faith to be able to answer the questions to yours,&quot; Katriana murmurs with a sad sigh. &quot;So much has happened in such a short period of time that it makes the mind want to reel out of control. I have chosen to listen to my heart, and all it tells me is that the Shadow is as much a part of our world as the Light, and we must accept that. But it does not mean we worship the Shadow. We must simply accept its presence. Our allegiance should always be to the Light. That is the goodness that is shined upon us.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Considering that for a moment, Wolfsbane looks down to the meat he still holds, his chewing slowing. He stares, before tearing another bite from it, chewing a bit more, before shrugging slightly. &quot;...must be a good breed,&quot; he mutters to himself. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Kael finally retreats from all of that, backing away from the Pathfinders that have begun to look at him oddly, backing away from the conversation between the Nillu and the Mikin, backing away from the hole in the Aegis that still catches his eyes. His face sets, oddly... and he nods, those eyes of his flickering with that odd red flame. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;This is exactly the sort of thing you should see,&quot; Taran says quietly. &quot;And I will not tell you go. But there is duty also; mine, and yours.&quot; He makes a little shoo-motion with one hand. &quot;Go do as you do best.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> The cloaked girl nods once, sharply, and turns. She strides with decisive purpose now, not the aimless unsure wandering that carried her closer into the crowd, walking directly for Kael. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;I agree with that much, Katriana. But I do feel the Light slipping away, and I feel I must work to restore it. Maybe not as the Church, but as something... I have some apologies to make,&quot; Varal notes. &quot;Especially to one Nillu.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Katriana Nillu shakes her head, &quot;If you mean me, then there are no apologies to be had,&quot; she murmurs. &quot;If you mean one of my kin, then I cannot say what should be apologized for.&quot; She offers a smile, and makes a gesture away from the wall, and back in the direction of Wedgecrest. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;Fastheld has been covered in a Shadow for some time now, and even with the spectacle tonight, it still lingers. We live in dark times, and I think we all wish for a little more Light.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Something seems to occur to Vhramis. The man glances about to the other rangers standing guard by the open gap to the wildlands, before he announces, &quot;...I didn't bring a tent.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> Suddenly, nobody wants to look at him. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Kael murmers - whether it's to the approaching girl, or just to himself is hard to say - &quot;Thankye - fer that. Fer that moment. I ken, now.&quot; Still those eyes flicker - &quot;Aye... I ken. An' I will.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> The girl pauses unsurely before Kael, hood tilting to the side. She silently studies him for a long moment before softly offering, &quot;I'm sorry I don't understand.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Varal pulls himself onto his horse, nodding to Katriana. &quot;Need a lift, or did you bring your own?&quot; He pauses. &quot;Something needs to be done. Perhaps I approached this too much like Alieron, but... I feel strongly.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Katriana Nillu nods, &quot;A lift would be quite nice. I left my mount in Wedgecrest,&quot; she says with a sheepish look. &quot;You are right. Something does need to be done, but if you approach it the wrong way, you will just be a raving lunatic. Be careful, Varal.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Kael turns those burning eyes to the cloaked woman - &quot;... fer jus' a moment there... I were a man.&quot; He swallows. &quot;Jus' a moment.&quot; Odd, how his resolve breaks... &quot;I hoped... &quot; He shrugs. &quot;but I am what I am, aye? Always wi' be.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> From over by the gap in the Aegis, one of the guarding pathfinders glances to the others. &quot;...hey. What do you call a skeleton that doesn't do its work?&quot; </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> A multitude of eyes turn to peer over to the speaker, while silence meets them. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"><i> Thinking better of finishing the joke, the teller clears their throat and looks back to the dark wilderness. </i> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Varal laughs a moment, getting himself comfortable on Boulder's back before offering a hand to Katriana. &quot;Help the Lady!&quot; he orders his men. &quot;M'lady Nillu, you should already know, I am a raving lunatic.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> &quot;I don't think I'm sorry for that one,&quot; muses the girl, calmly. &quot;I guess it might be a nice change for a little, but in the end, I think you might miss that part of you. ... I would.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Kael smiles, sadly. &quot;aye. I woul' - but... a part o' me wanted t' be jus'... another person, aye? No more starin' an' worryin', no more scrapin' fer work... 'n starin' at a world I donnae e'en come close t' ken.&quot; He offers the girl a calloused hand - &quot;But th' Light ... o' th' Shadow... 't chose fer me t' be this way. S' what I tol' Celeste - 's up t' us t' figure out what that 's goin' t' mean, aye?&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <span style="font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Arial">Boulder moves off towards Wedgecrest. <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> One little black-gloved hand reaches out to take Kael's. &quot;You're going to make perfect sense of it for yourself, in the end. I know that.&quot; Her soft voice is full of conviction at that statement, but a more musing quality slips in as she continues. &quot;... I can't say I know what happened here, but... looks to me like light and shadow sometimes make good partners.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Kael murmers, softly - &quot;maybe. Maybe th' kin be more t'gether 'n enemies. But 's up t' all th' folks about t' choose that, one way o' anotherr.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> Meian reaches up and finally tugs her hood down with the other hand, revealing a wry smile on her face. &quot;... L-looks like my l-lady was a little a-ahead of the times, w-wasn't she? I can't doubt anymore, m-myself. S-someone else's magic, other than y-yours... I might be sc-scared... &quot; She spares a glance for the wall, grimacing, but more softly finishes, &quot;... it's a tool, anyway. No t-tool can be e-evil.&quot; <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-autospace: none">

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