The Gaze of Eternity

[Wyvern]

OOC: A short note before starting...

 

Unlike most of my story particpation threads, "The Gaze of Eternity" is both a serious thread and a thread limited to participation by only members of the Pen. Thus far, Zadown and Yui have said they'll be participating. While this technicaly could be enough participants for the story to get going, if you decide you want to participate, please state so in the OOC thread located in 'The Greenroom' of the 'members only' section. I should be able to slip you in somewhere. If you aren't a member of the Pen but REALLY want to participate, simply apply and become a member! I've limited the participation to members only since I've been brainstorming this story for quite a while now, and want the fellow writers of the story (i.e the participants) to have some writing skill. If you're a member of the Pen, you should have writing skill... That's my reasoning.

 

I enjoy hearing peoples comments and criticisms, but please don't post them in this thread. This OOC should be the only OOC that appears in this story. If you want to post comments and suggestions, please do so in the OOC thread located in 'The Greenroom'. If you aren't a member and feel the need to comment, post it in a seperate thread on the public boards of the Pen or e-mail me at elitwack90@hotmail.com. Feedback is greatly appreciated, since I usualy don't do serious stories over the net. (I normaly reserve those for real time RPing sessions...)

 

Another thing... there are several religious references that appear throughout this story. While I'm quite certain there is nothing liable to offend anyone, if you are highly religious and simply can't stand reading an adventure that explores the norms of religious doctrines, I would probably suggest avoiding this thread entirely... which would be a shame, since I think it's going to be quite well done.

 

That's about it... sorry to have bored you with this long speal. Once again, this should be the only OOC comment that appears in this story thread. I'll ask those interested in participating to once again read over the OOC thread in 'The Greenroom' and follow instructions... I'll write up the prologue some time a bit later today...

 

Thanks...

 

Evan Litwack ( a.k.a Wyvern)

[Wyvern]

"'My eye will not spare, nor will I have pity; I will repay you according to your ways, and your abominations will be in your midst. Then you shall know that I am the Lord who strikes'."

-Ezekiel 7:9

 

"ignorance, is that their happy state,/ the proof of their obedience and their faith?" -Satan, Paradise Lost, (Book 4, ll. 519-20)

 

"All religion, my friend, is simply evolved out of fraud, fear, greed, imagination, and poetry."

-Edgar Allen Poe

 

 

...

 

Why are we here?

 

What is the ultimate purpose of life?

 

Have we been created to follow a set goal... a journey of some sort?

 

Have our destinies been preordained?

 

Questions constantly plague us... Answers elude us, and shall remain forever out of our reach...

 

...

 

This is a story about humanity.

[Wyvern]

-Prologue-

 

Dearest Elena,

 

How long has it been since I last decided to write you? One year? Two? We have been seperated for what seems like an eternity... yet you still seem so close to me. I still feel the gentle touch of your hand as it smoothly glides across my cheek... the delicious taste of your lips as they press unto mine. Your sweet, alluring fragrance continously engulfs me... as if it were teasing me in some irresistable fashion. The wonderfull smell follows me everywhere... the study, the balcony, or beside the kindeling fire place of my bedroom chamber where I am writing this now.

 

I miss you dearly, and there is not a moment when I don't think of you... Not a moment when I don't remember the magic that sparked between us. Where are you now? I'm certain you're faring well... you were always one to take care of yourself. I'm confidant that one day our paths will cross once again...

 

In the evening, when night has fallen and the wine has begun taking it's effect on my senses, I dream of you. You slowly advance towards me, dressed in the same gown you wore for our wedding. I try to run towards you, to call out your name... yet somehow am unable to do so. When I try to move, my feet find themselves firmly planted on the ground, and when I try speaking, my vocal chords seem unable to function. Before you can reach me, you vanish... leaving me alone once again. I am left sobbing on the ground, anguishing your departure. Yet I am hopefull, dear Elena... For every night I dream of you, you come one step closer to my embrace.

 

I stare into the depths of the smoldering cinders in the hearth, knowing that I will discard this letter into the flames after having written it. I have neither the courage nor the will to send it...

 

I wish you only the best, and will reserve the deepest of my affections for when we meet next... whether it be in my sleep or on the roads of reality.

 

Farewell.

[Wyvern]

-Part 1: A Gathering of Heros-

 

Nightfall in Terra. The sun lazily begins its decent below the hills and ridges, casting its final rays of light over the vast fields, townships, and mountanous ridges. At Saint Theodores Church, located on Feyres peak along the outskirts of the city of Velensia, mass is just reaching its close for the day.

 

As a fellow priest slowly makes his way around the central room of the church lighting candles, Saint Theodore reads the final lines from the bible for this session in front of the vast, attentive group of church-goers listening.

 

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil:" booms Saint Theodore. "for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. Thou anointest my head with oil: my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life..."

 

"...And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever." concludes a voice coming from the back of the audience.

 

Saint Theodore looks up from his bible only to find that three strangers are standing near the church's entrance. One of these strangers had just finished his reading from Psalm 23. A soft murmer breaks out in the audience.

 

"Y-yes, my son..." answers Saint Theodore, uncertain whether to congratulate the stranger for knowing his biblical verses or act generaly offended for being interrupted in mid-speech. "Well said..."

 

The stranger looks up at Saint Theodore and smiles. He takes a few steps forward, gazing up at a mural on the ceiling and admiring its beauty. Speaking to noone in particular, the stranger mutters:

 

"Psalm 23... an excellent verse... although all verses written by the Lord contain only the greatest of knowledge and wisdom, do they not?"

 

Somewhat confused, Saint Theodore reluctantly nods in agreement. He knew practicaly every person who attended the church's name by heart, and had never seen these three strangers in his life. Noticing the muddled confusion and irritation on Saint Theodore's face, the first stranger speaks up once again.

 

"Forgive me father..." he says, pointing to the second stranger. "My friend is a paladin who has embarked on a most perilous quest. A quest with an objective none other then the purging of all sin. We came to this church in the hopes that you would offer him your blessings."

 

Saint Theodore directs his gaze to the second stranger, and notices that the stranger bears a holy cross upon the armor plate that adorns his chest. The symbol of a paladin. Now calm and smiling, Saint Theodore beckons to the second stranger. "Certainly my son... I can offer you my blessings." An excited murmer rings through the crowd of spectators, then subsides into silence.

 

The first stranger turns to the second stranger (the paladin) and nods. The paladin then shifts from his postion and slowly paces towards Saint Theodore's altar, marching through the center of the crowd of church-goers. As the paladin makes his way to Saint Theodore, the first stranger speaks up once again.

 

"Indeed the bible has a great deal of wisdom throughout. If you'll permit me, I'd like to read a particularly interesting line from Isaiah 1:18"

 

"I-" starts Saint Theodore as the paladin makes his way onto the altar.

 

"Though your sins are like scarlet" exclaims the first stranger "they shall be as white as snow; Though they may be crimson red, they may become white as wool."

 

At that moment, the paladin unseathes his blade and plunges it into the depths of Saint Theodore's chest. Theodore cries out in agony, and falls to the ground squirming and clutching his bleeding chest in pain. The paladin then procedes to lift his sword and strikes down upon the already wounded body of the priest, dealing the finishing blow. An enormous cry of horror rings from the audience and havoc breaks loose.

 

The first stranger then signals to the third stranger, who procedes to knock over the altars that hold the church's candles. A fire begins to break loose, and with a few arcane words and gestures from the third strangers hands, the force of the fire is greatly augmented. An enormous explosion breaks out that instantly incinerates over half of the spectators. The paladin then begins furiously slaughtering those not already dead, showing not even the faintest sign of remorse.

 

The first stranger simply stands back and watches the carnage his two allies produce, smiling happily to himself. After about ten minutes of watching, tears begin rolling down his cheeks. Not those of sorrow or remorse, but those of joy...

 

And the night sky of Feyres peak is illuminated with the burning of Saint Theodores church...

[Wyvern]

On a far south-western penninsula of Terra, bordering the vast Ocean of Nargoth and huddled between the ridges of the Nerenzi mountain range and the Forest of Espers, lies the quaint fishing village of Leferia. It is a peacefull village in which there is rarely excitement of any kind, and the townsfolk go about their daily schedules with few interruptions. Occasionaly, a pickpocket may turn up or a storm might occur... but that was as interesting as it got for the villagers of Leferia. Thus, when a great half-elven hero arrived on a fishing boat that fine mid-September morning, there was a great deal of commotion in the Leferian docking harbors...

 

Many knew the warrior by name, some knew him by face. Gyrfalcon... the great hybrid of warrior and sorcerer. He who had yet to find a man that matched him in skill and power... His ventures had been chronicled to such an extent that many considered him legendary...

 

He had come from the lands far North on a mission. As legend had it, there existed a pool which if stared into without fear granted it's onlooker a moment of infinite wisdom, and afterwards peace to the soul. The myth of 'The Pool of Eternal Reflection' had been inscribed into ancient parchments for centuries, and had never failed to grasp the attention of brave adventurers... Yet to this day, the location of the pool had never been discovered. For many heros, peace of the soul was more important then even the most immeasurable amount of geld and treasures.

 

Gyrfalcon had a lead to where the pool could be located. A fellow adventurer had informed him that there was a priest by the name of Derick who knew some information on the location of the legendary pool. The priest lived in the city of Felleros, located a short ways north-east of Leferia...

 

As the fishing ship came to a complete halt at the docks, and Gyrfalcon had hopped from the smelly wooden boat onto the firm harbor, an enormous crowd of peasants cheered his arrival.

[Gyrfalcon]

Gyrfalcon ducked his head under the hood of his cloak to hide his furious blush. He found the attention flattering, but didn't believe he deserved the crowd. As he prepared to step off of the fishing boat, the master of it, a large, nearly round human, puffed up to him.

 

"M'lord, my deepest apologies, if you had told me you were the great Gyrfalcon, I never would have put you to work on the trip here… I can extend only my sincerest apologies…"

 

Gyrfalcon held his hand up and smiled at the man.

 

"I am not adverse to hard labor, good sir. Our contract was fairly struck and I never regretted shipping with you. I wish you the greatest success on your fishing, good master."

 

The man nearly burst as he swelled with pride at the compliments and the well wishing.

 

"Thank you, my Lord! Please, if there is ever anything I can do for you, just ask!"

 

Gyrfalcon nodded and walked down the gangplank, into the cheering crowd. After an interminably long reception from the mayor of the community, along with a request to stay in the town for a banquet to be held in his honor, Gyrfalcon finally had a chance to speak rather then stand and smile uncomfortably at the praise heaped on him.

 

"Really, Mayor, I'm honored by your request, but I must decline. Unless you have some sort of problem I should deal with, I have… pressing business of my own to attend to."

 

The Mayor seemed taken aback, then thought, and brightened.

 

"Well, Mary-Ann and Alrond are having some marriage problems-"

 

Gyrfalcon cut him off. "Maybe I didn't quite make myself clear, Mayor… I can deal with marauding orcs, or a gang of bandits. Marital troubles and the like are not my strong suit."

 

The Mayor finally admitted that their quite town had none of these problems, and Gyrfalcon nodded and left.

 

After purchasing a horse (and having a strange scene in which he and the trader exchanged positions and Gyrfalcon was trying to drive the price as high as possible), Gyrfalcon reached the open road with a sigh of relief. He understood why he was viewed as a hero, but he was never comfortable with the near-worship some towns heaped on him, or the attempts to draw him into their politics that the leaders of larger cities. Couldn't these people see that he did good deeds for the sakes of the people who benefited from them, not out of a lust for glory or accolades?

 

With a resigned sigh, Gyrfalcon kicked his horse into a canter and headed towards Felleros, hoping that no word would precede his arrival.

[Zadown]

Above the half-elf and his horse a crow circles, looking around. When it notices the riding hero, it stops its idling and focuses its gaze to Gyrfalcon. It blinks...

 

...and for a moment its eyes are deep, dark blue, like two windows to the Void. It turns sharply, and vanishes in the middle of the air. But there are many crows, and nobody notices the disappearance of this one...

[Wyvern]

The journey from Leferia to Felleros is both a peacefull and a truly beautifull one. The sun shines brightly, and a cool September breeze rids Gyrfalcon of the burdens of heat. Since the dusty trail leads along the outskirts of the Forest of Espers, the pleasant chirps and crickets of forest wildlife ring like music to the listeners ear...

 

After the night has fallen and Gyrfalcon is certain he's made a good days progress, he settles down near a forest grove and checks over his map. If he kept moving at this pace, he'd reach Felleros in less then two days...

 

The night is uneventfull and free of danger... something that Gyrfalcon, who had become accustomed to frequently facing wolf packs at the outskirts of forests in the North, was not entirely used to.

 

The next day of travel is also free of worries, and as Gyrfalcon approaches the city of Felleros he begins becoming more and more excited. He could feel he was getting closer and closer to the secrets of the legendary pool...

 

By the time the sun had begun to slowly set in the East and nightfall had once again begun to cloud the skies, Gyrfalcon had already reached the central gates of Felleros. In his excitement, he had traveled twice the rate he normaly rode and had arrived at Felleros an entire day earlier then he had predicted... His horse was absolutely exhausted, practicaly on the verge of collapsing. Sympathising with the poor animal, Gyrfalcon hopped off the stallion and walked with it the rest of the way to the gates...

[Zadown]

Approaching the gates, Gyrfalcon suddenly rised his head. Something was wrong. There were no guards by the gates, and the shadows were unusually deep, reminding the half-elf in some strange way of the castle of his old nemesis, the necromancer. He shuddered to that cold memory.

 

Without further warning his world turned around himself in one dizzying whirling motion and clicked back to its old place, looking almost the same as before.

 

Feeling magic dimly (as from far-away), shaking the effects of the rotating vision he just had, Gyrfalcon drew his sword in one practiced motion and tried to penetrate the gloom ahead him by his gaze. From the shadows, a robed figure stepped half-way out, staying partially covered in the darkness. The man made a dismissing motion with his right arm, ignoring the sword. Then he spoke in a deep, slightly lisping voice.

 

"Sheathe the sword, hero. I doubt it'd do you much good, in any case."

 

The half-elf muttered ".. so you say .." but lowered the point of his weapon, confident in his own skills and curious.

 

The robed man lowered the hood of his robes, showing a hideously scarred face, neither old nor young, with brown hair and eyes the deep blue of the Void.

 

"I do believe we've met before, m'lord Gyrfalcon. And I think we both know why we both are here."

[Gyrfalcon]

Gyrfalcon raised the sword again, and stepped away from his mount, who stood quietly. "Why we are both here? And what would you know of my quest, stranger? For I have never seen you before." He was fascinated by the scars that covered the man's face and hands, and from how they extended down his neck and up his arms, quite possibly a large portion of his body. He was either very unlucky, or there was more to him that meets the eye.

 

Gyrfalcon clutched his hands around his katana harder and considered his limited repertoire of spells should this man be an assassin. Gyrfalcon didn't discount that possibility- one of the most deadly assassins he had ever seen had been a small, nearly featureless man that could possess the bodies of others and use them to slay his target. For a heavily scarred man in a robe to be one was not so great a stretch. Gyrfalcon had long since learned that to underestimate someone was a good way to die.

 

The man raised his hands to show they were empty, but Gyrfalcon was little comforted. There was something about the man… about his eyes in particular that unnerved the half-elf. They weren't normal, by any stretch of the meaning. For the first time in his life, Gyrfalcon considered the fact that he might stand before someone who could extinguish his life with barely a thought.

 

Gyrfalcon waited for answers from the stranger, his knuckles white from the grip he held on the hilt of his katana.

[Zadown]

The Dreamer frowned slightly to Gyrfalcon's words. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when they opened again, they were emerald green instead of blue.

 

"Ah, yes, I forgot. You have not been there yet, and I'm not where I am supposed to be. Let me amend that to 'I've met you and I know why you are here', then. That might make all this easier, even."

 

He smiled, and the scars danced on his face, making the effect more alarming than anything else. The half-elf studied him intently and he returned the stare, looking straight through Gyrfalcon and making Gyrfalcon shift his feet nervously.

 

"I know what you seek, but I'd rather not name it out here. Let us continue the journey; if I am an enemy, I am at least right where you can see me."

 

Gyrfalcon shifted his feet again, thinking the situation over. The man before him didn't think that he, armed with sword, was a threat - instead of tense, the robed figure seemed preoccupied with other things, anxious to get this trivial matter done with. He was either mad, powerful or good at acting, and something in those changing eyes made him think that the second guess was closest to truth.

 

The Dreamer smiled again and offered his hand. Suprised and still thinking, Gyrfalcon reflexively transfered his katana to his left hand and shook the offered hand.

 

"'Tis a pleasure to meet you again for the first time, m'lord Gyrfalcon. You may call me the Dreamer - that is the name you will know me in the future."

 

The half-elf smiled resignedly.

 

"Greetings then, the Dreamer. Yes, perhaps it would be better to discuss this somewhere more private in the city."

 

At some point during their conversation, the extra shadows had dispersed, and the guards stood in their usual posts next to the gates. The Dreamer and Gyrfalcon walked to the city in the twilight, the first with a preoccupied air, the second warily, staring at his new companion as often as looking at the city.

[Wyvern]

Felleros... While certainly nowhere near the largest city on the Southern continent of Terra, it's never the less quite a stunning sight... The city is like a labryinth of sorts: narrowly paved side streets twist and turn around countless buildings and architecture, some of which are over a century old. Perhaps the most distinctive feature of Felleros, however, is it's population of thrill seeking adventurers. Due to it's location, many warriors find it convenient to stop in the city... whether it be for directions, provisions, or simply a place to rest for the night. Over 20% of Felleros' population consists of heroic adventurers, many of which have embarked on epic quests.

 

Upon arriving at the city gates late that evening, both Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer were surprised when the guards thought little of their heroic appearances and let them in without the slightest bit of hesitation. The two adventurers quickly sook refuge for the night in an inn, weary from a hard days travel and determined to arrange a meeting with Saint Derick the next day...

 

The following day, upon the break of sunlight, Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer immediatly set off to find Saint Derick. When they reach the Felleros Cathedral, however, a priestess informs them that the Saint is absent for the day and would be available by nightfall. Sighing dismally at the thought of having to wait an entire day to meet the man that knew of the mysterious pool, the two adventurers decide to head over to a bar and order a few drinks to calm their nerves.

 

On entering the "Weary Warrior" drinking tavern, Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer are surprised to find that a wide variety of adventurers are lounging in the pub. In fact, around 40% of the people in the pub were adventurers... To the front of the bar, an apprentice mage seemed to be busy studying up on his spells over an ale. On a nearby stool, an amazon guzzles her beer with amazing swiftness, ordering another one immediatly after. Then, a man dressed in barbaric attire sitting near the rear of the room suddenly catches Gyrfalcon's eye, and the half-elven hero's skin nearly goes pale.

 

Gyrfalcon recognized the man as he had crossed his path before in a previous quest. Reyn the barbaric... one of the most lecherous scumbags one could possibly pray not to come across in an adventure. Reyn was the kind of guy that talked tough, constantly pretending he was unmatched in every aspect... In reality, all the bastard did was tag along and let others do the dirty work for him. In essence, the "barbarian" was a scavenger... feeding off of tidbits of treasure and info that other adventurers had left behind. Gyrfalcon bet that Reyn had never so much as lifted the bastard sword that hung on his belt...

 

The Dreamer turns curiously to Gyrfalcon and, taking a sip of his drink, asks in an inquisitive voice "What's bothering you? You look somewhat sick all of a sudden..."

 

Gyrfalcon covers his face with his hood and quickly tries to make his way out of the bar before being seen by the 'barbarian'. Reyn was not very efficent at his trade, but could get annoying as hell if he caught onto your mission. Heading swiftly to the exit and desperatly trying to avoid eye contact, Gyrfalcon is never the less spotted. Reyn's face immediatly brightens and he quickly turns and whispers something to his two allies, neither of which Gyrfalcon recognised.

 

Sighing to himself and slumping back into his bar stool, Gyrfalcon groans and prepares for the worst... This would be a nuisance...

[Gyrfalcon]

The three men came to a halt, one behind the Dreamer, one to Gyrfalcon's side and edging towards his back, and Reyn in front, a greedy look on his greasy face. The Dreamer's features tightened as he put down his glass, obviously understanding the implied threat as the third man slipped around behind Gyrfalcon.

 

Gyrfalcon sighed and dropped the pretense, straightening to his full height and staring Reyn straight in the eye. The last time he had done this, Reyn had turned pale and nearly run away. This time, he gulped once, then glanced at his companions, who were situated behind the Dreamer and Gyrfalcon and a rat-like smile slipped onto his face.

 

"Hellloooo, pointy-earssss." He grinned, showing broken, yellow teeth. Gyrfalcon's eyes narrowed as he restrained his anger and tried not to fantasize about killing the man.

 

Reyn's grin slipped a little, but then he reinforced it and spoke on, hissing slightly on the 's'es. "Sooooo… my friendsss thought it would behoof you to tell them about what you are ssseeking…" Gyrfalcon felt a knife press against his back, and from the way the Dreamer's face tightened further, Gyrfalcon suspected the same had happened to him.

 

The man behind him whispered into the half-elf's ear, his voice… bland… no changes in tone, no emotion. "It would be best if you answered our questions about the Well of Souls." Gyrfalcon stiffened slightly, shocked. The 'Well of Souls' was another name for the Pool of Eternal Reflection. Gyrfalcon had discovered this through extensive research of the old legends of Terra, and too many details rang the same between the two old, old, and nearly forgotten stories.

 

"Who sent you?" Gyrfalcon whispered back, and the knife pressed harder against Gyrfalcon's back.

 

"None of your business, half-elf, and if you don't start answering questions, your end will be long and painful."

 

Gyrfalcon grimaced slightly. The man had said nothing about letting the Dreamer and Gyrfalcon go, and Gyrfalcon suspected that would not be the case if he submitted to their questions. Gyrfalcon caught the Dreamer's eye, and he nodded slightly. Gyrfalcon had no idea what he planned to do, but he suspected the man could more then care for himself against the assassin behind him.

 

"Reyn… the word is behoove… not that I expected a wererat like you to know that." As Reyn's face darkened with blood, he clawed for his sword with a growl of rage. Gyrfalcon idly wondered how good Reyn would be with the weapon. However, that didn't stop him from remembering to utter a magical word.

 

" Silexcorium" The man behind Gyrfalcon plunged the dagger home, the blade parting through Gyrfalcon's cloak, the mithril of his field plate (confirming the weapon's magical enchantment) and the clothing under the armor, to strike Gyrfalcon's skin… and stop.

 

Gyrfalcon whirled away from the man and Reyn, drawing two daggers as he did so, his skin still glowing faintly blue as he stopped his spin to face Reyn and the assassin.

[Zadown]

While Gyrfalcon whirled away from the assasin that stabbed him, the Dreamer's features softened and he smiled briefly. With a blink of his eyes, the eyes turned blood-red and he entered combat trance...

 

These are not agents of the gods that sent me here .. no aura of power. Mere mortals.

 

...turning away from the assasin behind him, he took one stab to his side. Ignoring it completely he turned to stare his assailant and reached forward as if to touch the assasin. His right hand disappeared and after a fraction of a moment the assasin in front of him disappeared, too.

 

Turning around in half-circle, he pointed his right arm (hand still missing), at the other assasin, as if flinging something with his now unseen hand. Completing the motion, his right arm swung upwards, and the hand reappeared to its normal place at the precisely same time as the first assasin appeared, too - inside the second one.

 

The combined assasins convulsed and shrieked once, twitching and flailing with their eight limbs, two heads shaking, then it fell down and all was quiet.

 

Reyn and Gyrfalcon both stared at the Dreamer and they weren't the only ones - the whole cliente of the Weary Warrior, even though they were the kind who had seen much, were now watching the robed man warily.

 

Eyes slowly shifting back to green, the Dreamer grimaced.

 

Attention - just the thing we don't need .. accursed blood lust.

 

"You have better grasp of situations like this, m'lord Gyrfalcon. What next?"

 

In the silence that followed the drip of blood from the wound on the planewalker's side sounded loud...

[Wyvern]

Watching the unfortunate demise of his two allies in horror, Reyn's first instinct is to turn and run away as fast as he can. Before he can do so, however, Gyrfalcon grabs him by the collar and shoves him up against the rear wall of the tavern. The Dreamer walks up beside Gyrfalcon, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing Reyn the barbaric in disgust. Stuttering, Reyn finally manages to yelp:

 

"Come on pointy ears..."

 

"Gyrfalcon." interrupts Gyrfalcon, frowning.

 

"Sorry... Come on Gyrfalcon, won't you please let me go? For old times sake...?"

 

"What do you know about the Pool of Eternal Reflection?" demands Gyrfalcon, tightening his grip around Reyn's collar.

 

"Nothing..." pleads Reyn "One of my allies was just looking for the Well of Souls and I thought I'd follow him. Hell... I don't even know what the Pool IS. I just..."

 

"... thought you'd follow us and try to steal our findings?" finishes Gyrfalcon, smiling slightly. Reyn makes a nervous semi-smile back.

 

"Well... I wouldn't call it STEALING..."

 

Reyn looks towards the scarred visage of the Dreamer, then down at the twisted remains of his partners, and then finally back to the face of Gyrfalcon.

 

"You've changed, pointy ears..." says Reyn letting out a little smile "I don't recall you ever keeping such shady company."

 

"Watch your mouth..." growls the Dreamer.

 

Gyrfalcon looks down at the ground and sighs. He had heard Reyn lie before, and this seemed to be one of the rare cases that the 'barbaric' bandit was telling the truth. Reyn had probably just overheard one of the two mangled bodies formerly his partners speak of the Pool, and had become interested with the aspect of following him there.

 

"Shall we rid Terra of this pathetic creature?" asks the Dreamer.

 

"No..." mutters Gyrfalcon "... he's not worth it."

 

Upon hearing this, all the tension that had built up on Reyn's face fades. He lets out an enormous sigh of relief and begins continously thanking Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer for letting him live.

 

"The next time our paths cross..." mutters Gyrfalcon "... you're getting the beating of your life."

 

With that, Gyrfalcon let's go of Reyn's collar. Reyn turns and flees the bar as rapidly as possible, partialy out of embarassment and partialy because he was afraid that Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer would have a sudden change of heart...

 

The Dreamer turns to Gyrfalcon and frowns. "Was it really wise to let him go free?"

 

Gyrfalcon shrugs and mutters "He's harmless. Wouldn't be able to lift that bastard sword of his if his life depended on it."

 

"Excuse me..." interrupts the bar-tender pointing to the two disfigured corpses laying on the ground "... will you be cleaning this up...?"

[Wyvern]

After having cleaned up the revolting mess of mangled body parts that remained of Reyn's allies, Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer head out of the tavern and decide to wander the city streets for a bit. Soon, the sun begins to set to the east. Grey clouds slowly cover the sky, enveloping the city in darkness. A light, refreshing drizzle of rain starts up. As soon as the first stars are sighted in the sky, the two adventurers decide to make their way to the Felleros Cathedral in the hopes of meeting Saint Derick.

 

On the way to the cathedral, the rain begins coming down harder and soon Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer find themselves using their hoods to protect themselves from the downpour. A soft rumble of thunder rings from the sky, and windows of several shops and homes begin shutting. By the time they've arrived at the cathedral, the two heros have become soaking wet.

 

Gyrfalcon knocks on the enormous front door of the cathedral using the gothic doorhandle provided. The door is quickly answered by the priestess they had met earlier, who instantly recognises them and lets them in.

 

Entering the enormous empty church, the footsteps of Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer echo loudly through the enormous religious alters and architecture. There is a flash of lightening and the empty chamber is suddenly illuminated. The stained glass windows and statues of angels shine brightly for a moment, and then fade back into darkness. The priestess quickly shuts the doors of the church and then immediatly rushes to the two adventurers. Escorting them to two of the chairs in the one of front rows, the priestess mutters:

 

"Please, sit... You're soaked to the bone... Let me get some rags to dry you with..."

 

At that, the priestess leaves the two adventurers alone in the huge main chamber of the church as she rushes to another room. She is gone for a short while, and when she returns she has not only rags but two cups of hot tea as well. Drying himself off and thanking her for the soothing drink, Gyrfalcon politely asks:

 

"Where is Father Derick?"

 

The Dreamer nods, eager to meet the priest and get this over with.

 

"Father Derick is currently in the church's basement library, doing studies on religion." says the priestess. "I have told him of your desire to meet him, and he is expecting you..."

 

With that, the priestess smiles and walks away from the adventurers, turning her attentions to the lighting of the candels for the evening...

[Gyrfalcon]

Gyrfalcon looked at the Dreamer, who shrugged. Neither of them had any idea where the basement of the church would be located. Gyrfalcon thought to ask the priestess, but she had disappeared around a corner. With his own shrug, he followed after the Dreamer, who seemed to choose a door at random.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Gyrfalcon and the dreamer had covered about half of the sprawling church's ground floor, having inspected the kitchen, monk's cells, and the chapel, all with no luck. That hadn't even found anyone to ask directions from. Gyrfalcon was starting to become slightly unnerved. Surely a major church like this one would *someone* somewhere. The echoing silence made that seem unlikely.

 

Finally, with a lot of muttered curses, the two of them found that the stairway down to the lower levels. They quickly made their ways down two more staircases and came to a dark corridor, the torches set in the wall sconces unlit. Gyrfalcon took one of the torches from its holder and quietly invoked the words of a minor spell, which caused a warm glow to appear, centered on the tip of the torch.

 

The Dreamer gave Gyrfalcon an inquiring look and Gyrfalcon smiled as he responded.

 

"Normally I would just light the torch and be very careful in the library, but the possibility of burning his church's most holy works would put Father Derick in a bad mood. Thus, A magical light that I can carry with us.

 

The Dreamer nodded and the two set off down the corridor. Guided by the glow of the magical light, they quickly found their way to the end of the corridor, and a sturdy wooden door. Gyrfalcon knocked twice on it, and waited for a response. When none came, he knocked twice more.

 

"I wonder if fell asleep or if the library is just too big for Father Derick to hear the knocking?" Gyrfalcon asked rhetorically as he opened the door to the library and stepped inside…

[Yui-chan]

Entry 322

278th day of the Caréne Solar Cycle

Third Quarter of the 3051st Orbit Since History Began

 

The journey from Lateth Refuge in the Great Silver Mountains terminated with my arrival in the Southern city of Felleros, where the ancient studies indicated the existence of a lineage with supplemental knowledge of the Pool of Eternal Reflection. After ascertaining the location and disposition of the family's current Matriarch, I proceeded to contact and interview the woman, who then directed me to speak with her brother.

 

(Note: Most of these races maintain a primitive Patriarchal society, so I must remember to direct future inquiries towards the males. Females seem to be relegated to positions of servitude and child rearing, with only a few exceptions.)

 

Thus have I come to be here with the human known as Father Derick, a male in the middle of his lifespan with the weight of overeating and underactivity around his abdomen. My initial estimates would indicate an excess of lipids to a dangerous extent, and I was alarmed to note that the symptoms of circulatory blockage were evident during our initial conversations. Though I've taken the vow not to interfere any more than necessary with the workings of these external societies, I find myself wanting to teach the man how to better his health before he dies of cardiac arrest. Beyond his role in my important quest, I have found him to be quite kind and knowledgeable. His death will be a loss to his race.

 

Ah… I digress.

 

Father Derick seems to be reluctant to share his personal knowledge with me as of yet. It seems as if he is waiting for someone else to arrive, though he has not said as much to me. Regardless, I have been kept quite busy pouring over the plethora of resources that the elderly human has stored in his library, much of which confirms the information that our own scholars have gathered on the Pool of Eternal Reflection. In fact, as I look around the walls of this sizeable library, I find myself remembering the stories that the Survivors have told about the Sanctuary of Knowledge that once existed in the Great City. I can only imagine that the Shikara of the old land tended libraries as rich and full as this one.

 

When I have found the Pool, I will make sure that their descendants will do so again…

 

Ah! Read:

 

"The Vishari fought a great war with their brothers of the S'den, killing and dying in numbers exceeded only by the Ragnarok of the history past. Mountains fell and rivers ran red, and in the center was the Gift from God, from which flowed immortal wisdom and the Peace of the Everlasting. Fire lit the sky, raining death upon land, and lightning split the night asunder. The rocks moved and screamed their pain while the earth spit its burning blood from wounds as black as darkest night. And God, in His infinite Wisdom, did see that His Favored Children would destroy His Creation and sunder His Gift. So did He reach His hand down from the Heavens and scoop up the waters, washing them over the First Land to cleanse it of the filth of war.

 

"When the waters were still again and God did see His Children lying dead and broken, He cried His tears upon the land, covering the bodies in his soothing salt. …"

 

-- from The Deity Scrolls , self-proclaimed record of the early ages after the Ragnarok of old. Dated in the ancient way. Season of New Life, 428th Circle since the Recreation.

 

I'm elated to have found this entr

 

A ringing knock shattered the serene silence of the library, stilling the quill from its scratching path across the page's smooth surface. The writer started from her page, her steely-blue eyes going to the small, wooden door that graced the far wall. A quick glance at the steadily-burning candle on the book-strewn, rough desk before her brought a puzzled frown to her sharp-boned face.

 

"Puzzling. Father Derick said that he would not return for at least another quarter-candlemark. Who could this be?" the woman muttered aloud to herself.

 

Curious, she stood, tucking her feathered, salt-and-pepper wings tight against her back as she set her quill back in its inkpot. Unconsciously, her head tilted to the side with a birdlike suddenness, her hand raising automatically to shove the spectacles back up her nose from where the motion had thrown them. While the door slowly groaned open, the young Avian scholar called Kaleyra watched in naïve security to see who was behind it…

 

{Editted to remove the signature image of the wrong character. }

[Yui-chan]

Archive Note The parser missed a post, adding it here to follow the flow of the story exactly as it appeared on the ezboard website.

 

Zadown posted,

 

As he walked slowly behind the half-elven hero, Gyrfalcon, the Dreamer's attention was elsewhere, in his own thoughts:

 

 This is getting boring. Walking is such a slow method of getting anywhere, and waiting the nights as the world sleeps is infuriating! Boring and threatening - I cannot act in the fear of some agent of the gods finding me. Even the little tricks I did by the gate and in the bar are by hindsight excessive. Ripples in the mana streams and handmarks in the Astral - the trackers can find such things, since they know who I am. But do they know when I am...?

 

Gyrfalcon knocked on the door, breaking the planewalkers reverie. Feeling blind, deaf and mute without the usual aura of magic around him, the Dreamer rised his gaze to see this Father Derick they were looking for. Instead, he saw the outlines of a winged being..

 

 ... an angel! They've found me! Time to walk away from this doomed quest! ...

 

..time slowed down as the planewalker let his more complex thought functions to freeze and gave all the power to the combat reflexes, eyes turning blood-red. Without thinking it any further, he grasped for his sword - which did not exist yet. Instead of the spectral no-dachi "Pain" he was trying to draw, his old blade appeared in his hand. With unnatural haste, taking the unexpected change in stride, he lunged forward with that sword, the green enchanted jade katana "Benefical Dragon"..

 

..and realized both of his errors just when the cool tip of the blade touched lightly on the avian's throat. No aura of power within this one, either - and calling a weapon through half of the known multiversum was a sure way to act as a bright beacon to all the searchers.

 

Slowly withdrawing the blade from Kaleyra's throat, the Dreamer coughed softly.

 

"I'm sorry, m'lady - your wings made me think of angels."

Yui Posted,

 

Kaleyra boggled at the scarred man, frozen in fear like a deer upon spying the hunter's flying arrow. As he lowered his blade and made his apologies, she took a staggering step backwards, tripping herself on the corner of the chair she'd been sitting in. With a yelp and the wild flinging of both arms and wings, she landed with a graceless thud on her rear. She was too shaken to be embarassed, however, and the winged woman made no move to get up, just gazing at the two strange men from the library's stone floor.

 

As rational thought returned to her, however, so did the scarred man's words. Gulping to try to swallow the last of her shock and fear, Kaleyra managed to stutter, "I-I'm ... not of angelic stock, I assure you."

 

She did not give either male a chance to help her up, scrambling to her feet amidst her own words. "My name is K-Kaleyra d'Avie, and I can safely claim that my genetic makeup would quite prove me to be flood-blooded Avian. Seeing as angels are not even mortal, according to my research, I most certainly do not qualify."

 

As she droned on, muttering almost to herself about the 'noncorporeal manifestations' of most angels and 'evident hypertension' on the part of her attacker as she brushed the dirt from her clothing, Gyrfalcon watched her, taking in the details of her tall, lithe frame and angular form. The torchlight glinted off the silken light-chestnut braid decorating her head in a complex series of weaves and knots. Her clothes were a smooth pair of dark brown leggings under a belted, blue tunic, the edges of which were trimmed with an ornate border of ribbon embroidered in silver and a lighter and darker shade of blue. At her waist, it split into a front and rear panel, both richly embroidered in that same graceful swirl of blue and silver. Though the details of the garments were still largely concealed by the shadows flickering around her, the signs of wear and travel showed in the subtle lines of mends and patches.

 

As Gyrfalcon's glance travelled down to the dark leather of her knee-high boots, Kaleyra noticed both his examination and her own rambling monologue. With a slight blush, she let her words trail off into awkward silence.

 

"... um... Now, then..." She squirmed a bit, glancing back at her books as if seeking refuge... or strength. "Would you gentlemen care to introduce yourselves and reveal your purpose in this establishment?"

[Wyvern]

"Indeed..." belows a deep voice from the rear of the adventurers "Introductions would be most welcome... I take it you're the two warriors I was told would visit?"

 

Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer turn their heads towards the source of the sound and are met by the face of an aged man in the white silken robes of a priest. He is an obtuse man with an enormous chest, a graying beard, and eyes that faintly glimmer in the dim torchlight. A holy cross dangles on a chain encircled around his neck, and in his arms he carries two copies of the bible. The most noticeable feature of the priest, however, is his fatigue. The bags under his eyes and the disorderly appearence of his hair and beard would suggest that he had not slept for days... weeks even. A smile and small hand wave on the behalf of Kaleyra dispells any doubts that this is the man Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer had been searching for...

 

Stroking his gray beard pensively, Saint Derick speaks up once again:

 

"Come..." he says, gesturing one hand and turning to walk back down the hall from whence he came "... the library is no place to speak of such matters. The room is large, and the echo of even the faintest whisper can resonate across the walls to the ears of eager listeners. Let us discuss what it is you're searching for in my private quarters... where we have no fears of being overheard."

 

Having said this, Father Derick turns from the library door and begins walking back down the basement hall. Kaleyra immediatly follows him, as do Gyrfalcon and the Dreamer.

 

After Derick and the three heros have arrived and been seated in his personal chambers, the old man slowly strokes his hand over his face and lets out a deep sigh. Turning to the Dreamer, then Gyrfalcon, Derick asks:

 

"Tell me... how did you find out information on my knowledge of the mystic pool? Kaleyra has done many years of intensive research on the subject, and still had not known of my presence till recently..."

 

"I'm sorry..." says Gyrfalcon "... but revealing the identity of the person who led us here would be dishonorary."

 

Upon hearing this, Derick nods his head and lets out another sigh. There is a long moment of silence in which a faint rumble of thunder can be heard. Finally, Saint Derick raises himself out of his chair and turns to a portrait hanging on his wall. The painting depicts a beautifull maiden in an exquisite dress, who appears to be singing with countless angels. Not redirecting his gaze from the painting, Derick declares:

 

"I'm afraid that before I can reveal information on the Pool, I will need to hear your motives for finding it... If you're doing it for geld, I'll refuse to disclose any information. Selfishness and greed are not to be associated with the Pool's divine existence..."

 

Derick turns from the painting and once again looks towards Kaleyra, then the two warriors. He clears his throat and speaks once again:

 

"If you would introduce yourselves and state your motives for finding the Pool, I would feel more at ease telling you of what I know. Don't try to lie to me. I am a priest, and have many times seen the face of falsitude..."

 

Having said this, Derick looks at the adventurers and patiently awaits a reply.

[Gyrfalcon]

Gyrfalcon looked at the Dreamer, but he stared at Father Darick hard, his eyes slowly going from one color to another. With a shake of his head, Gyrfalcon next looked at the Avian woman, who blushed slightly and clutched a book she had taken with her out of the library more tightly, as if seeking protection.

 

"Well, I guess that I will start off. Since the good lady asked who I was before, I will start there. I am Gyrfalcon. I have no surname." Gyrfalcon said flatly, the words statements of fact.

 

"I rule over a small kingdom far, far to the north. I've come to the South-" the Avian chuckled softly and Gyrfalcon raised an eyebrow. She shook her head and motioned him to continue. Gyrfalcon shrugged and did so, not knowing that the Avian's home was even farther beyond his kingdom.

 

"I've come to the South to search for more information on the Pool of

Eternal Reflection, as I've discreetly found everything I could near my kingdom. There was not much to find." Gyrfalcon looked worried for a second, wondering if perhaps the Well did not exist.

 

"I search for the Well for a moment of wisdom. I've discovered that several of the seals of Armageddon have been broken. The breakings are happening slowly, decades between each one. Yet they are happening. When the last one breaks…" Gyrfalcon trailed off, and no one had to ask for the finish of the sentence. Armageddon. The end of the world.

 

Father Derick leaned forward slightly. "But one of the seal-breakers has been found and will be dealt with."

 

Gyrfalcon nodded. "Dealt with, yes, and the seals will be repaired. For how long? Eventually, some group will succeed and Armageddon will happen. I search for that wisdom to find out if there is some way to save my people from Armageddon… or more specifically, the horrors that come before the end. I've found accounts from the last Armageddon, the pages splashed with old, old blood. Humans turn into monsters and visit atrocities that not even a demon could think of on their own people, in many kingdoms, on their own families. More often, it is on those kingdoms around them, even kingdoms that were strong allies before the Great War."

 

Gyrfalcon looked sad and a faraway look entered his eyes for a second.

 

"I've lived through such a horror, I do not wish my people to suffer the atrocities."

 

Gyrfalcon sat back and waited for the Dreamer or the Avian to speak next.

[Zadown]

A moment after Gyrfalcon ended his speech, the Dreamer coughed again softly.

 

"I am called the Dreamer. You are not going to hear my real name - where I come from names have power, the power to bind."

 

His eyes ended their color cycle and settled on the blue of the Void as he continued staring at Father Darick.

 

"I come from a direction not found on a map and from a time not yet lived. I was sent past this point to die, but this is where I stopped. Now they search for me. And I need the wisdom of the Pool to get back to where I belong."

 

The Dreamer paused for a longer time. Just as the avian was about to speak, he rised his hand and continued.

 

"I need the wisdom for another reason, too. I need the calm and peace it is said to grant. Hundreds of years of constant strife are getting to me, endless vigiliance gnawing at my thoughts, the red haze of combat lurking ever closer to the surface. If it would consume me..."

 

The planewalker glanced at Kaleyra and at his sword, which was still awkwardly in his right hand: a dark green katana, beautifully ornamented with engraved oriental dragons, glowing faintly. His eyes turned dark grey.

 

"...I might not be able to stop myself any more."

 

The room was very silent and in that silence the thin, scarred form of the planewalker seemed to grow...

 

...and then the moment passed, Kaleyra made a nervous motion and started speaking.

[Yui-chan]

"Um… Well, I suppose that the introductions have already been concluded on my part, however the moment warrants a reiteration." Kaleyra fidgeted a bit, her wings stirring the still air of the room as she unconsciously fluttered them. "My name is Kaleyra d'Avie, envoy of the Avian Matriarch."

 

She paused, scanning their faces for signs that she knew well not to bother looking for. It had been millennia since the Avians had chosen isolation over war, yet still she found it disappointing that so few knew of her people in this outside world. Even the strange Dreamer, whose very presence unnerved her for simple lack of presence, looked blank at the mention of her race. Resigned, the young woman sighed and dropped her eyes to the book in her hands.

 

"My people are one of the few Ancient races to have emerged intact from the Armageddon War of distant history. If you are not familiar with the relevant details of this, it is the War that wiped the face of Terra clean and loosed the bonds on the force that most creatures have come to know as 'magic'. Into that dread time went many races of great scientific and technological might. From it came sticks and stones and houses of rock and mud. The Avians and at least two other races that I believe I have recently found reference to had policies of isolationism at the time of war, and so managed to escape the worst of the destruction, emerging from the conflict with some semblance of their knowledge, technology, and culture intact.

 

"For 2,968 Orbits after the end of that War, we lived separate from the rest of Terran society. Our isolationism had ensured the continued prosperity of our race in the past, thus my ancestors assumed that it would continue to support us through the violent period of rebuilding that the outside world was experiencing." The winged woman raised her head again, glancing at the faces of the three men uncertainly. "I… excuse me. I digress."

 

She sighed and set the book down on the table beside her chair, tearing her gaze away from the letters embossed on its leather surface to meet Derick's eyes. The religious man was reminded of a winter storm by the forced emotional freeze in that steel-hued gaze. "Eighty-three years ago, a series of massive earthquakes struck the ocean around the archipelago that had been the Avian's homeland for all of recorded time. Without warning, they were engulfed by a tsunami created by the sub-auditory oscillations of the ocean floor. Over two million Avians and 3,000 years worth of history, knowledge, and technology were lost on that day, and the damage triggered the dormant volcanic reserves beneath the islands. The records assert that, of the twelve land masses in the archipelago, three were submerged by the tidal wave, five crumbled from the geological stresses, and two were completely blanketed by lava from eruptions.

 

"The histories record that 2,113 Avians survived the initial disaster. Less than half of that number reached the mountaintop plateau that we now call Lateth Refuge. When I was born, the harsh effort to survive had reduced the known Avian population to merely 756 individuals. Our culture is dying, struggle though we may to preserve our dedication to knowledge and beauty and advancement, and nothing that our leaders have tried has been able to stop our slow death."

 

Finally, the young woman broke her eyes away from those of Saint Derrick to look first to Gyrfalcon and then to the Dreamer. "I was raised very painstakingly for this one goal: to locate the Pool of Eternal Reflection and utilize the wisdom it grants to save my race from extinction."

 

Her eyes returned to the Saint sitting there in his silken robes and the cold strength of determination faded, leaving the usual stormy-blue insecurity that he'd already come to recognize about the woman. A bit more quietly, Kaleyra intoned, "I hope your God would consider that sufficient motivation, Father..."

[Zadown]

Gyrfalcon and Kaleyra were both looking at Father Derrick, waiting for him to say something, when the Dreamer started to laugh. It was dry, humorless sound, feeling very wrong in some way - like the planewalker was in pain but couldn't help himself. All the others in the room turned to stare at him, but he did not care, just kept on shaking with that dried out, dead laughter. Then he abruptly stopped.

 

"Two million, you say? One civilization, just 3000 years of history? 756 Avians..."

 

The Dreamer's dark grey eyes narrowed.

 

"That is a mere fraction of what will be lost if I drown in my own violence, Father."

[Wyvern]

Somewhat unnerved by the Dreamers comments and hollow laughter, Saint Derick shifts uneasily in his chair. He plunges deep into thought for a moment, reflectively stroking his gray beard and considering the motives of the three heros. After an unbearably long moment of silence, he finally clears his throat, looks towards the adventurers, and speaks up:

 

"Very well..." mutters Saint Derick, fidgeting with the holy cross dangling around his neck nervously "... your motives seem righteous. I'll tell you what I know about the legendary Pool..."

 

Saint Derick lifts himself from his chair and suddenly points an aged finger at the adventurers:

 

"On one condition! You must refrain from spreading this information to any other adventurers at all costs! To many warriors, the Pool is nothing more then a wives tale... but if they were to learn of it's location, the information would spread like wildfire. Soon, all of Terra would know of its existence. This must not happen."

 

Derick directs a serious stare from one adventurer to another.

 

"Do I make myself clear?"

 

The three of them nod in understanding. Saint Derick nods back and manages a little smile, then turns once again to the painting of the women that hangs on his wall.

 

"There are very few facts based upon the whereabouts of the Pool of Eternal Reflection, I'm afraid... It has been depicted primarily from myth and our limited understanding of ancient parchments transcribed centuries ago. The legend of the Pool depicts that God wanted to spread peace and wisdom amongst all mankind. Thus, he forged the divine Pool by his own blessed hand. Those that stared into the Pool were granted a moment of infinite wisdom and then peace to the soul..."

 

Saint Derick turns from the painting and begins pacing back and forth in the room, his hands held tightly together behind his back.

 

"Supposedly, the Pool can be found in the first religious temple ever constructed by mankind. This temple is said to be located in a place known as the 'Springs of Eden', a garden of such divine beauty that it can move even the most heartless of ogres to tears..."

 

Derick sighs.

 

"Alas... the tragic fault of mankind. Centuries ago, an enormous war broke out between two formerly allied colonies: the Vishari and the S'den. Details on the war are sketchy... Noone knows why it broke out. Some say that it was for possession of fertile land and others think it was for access to the mystic Pool... there's no way to be certain which hypothesis is correct. The war resulted in the loss of the location of the 'Springs of Eden'..."

 

Derick stops his pacing for a moment and turns once again to the adventurers, looking them in the eyes.

 

"While nobody truly knows of where the 'Springs of Eden' can be found, I have an hypothesis on the subject. There is a myth of an island far to the South East of Terra known as the 'Rainbow Vale'... An island so beautiful that most explorers cannot fathom it's natural essence. Supposedly, the islands beauty acts as a cloak of illusion, making its presence unnoticed to the naked eye..."

 

Derick stops and thinks for a moment, stroking his beard and staring at the ceiling. He then continues:

 

"Of course, this has not been confirmed as fact. Noone has ever found the 'Rainbow Vale'... However, a good friend of mine, a monk by the name of Jakob, assures me of it's exsistence. I would suggest that you search for him. He resides in Saint Andrews church, which is located around the outskirts of the city of Erindale. Erindale is only a short ways East of here, just South of the city of Valensia. Meet up with Jakob and tell him of your quest. Tell him that Saint Derick sent you."

 

Derick pauses for a moment, then frowns.

 

"I have told you what I know of the Pool of Eternal Reflection, but there is one thing I feel I should warn you about. The churches around these regions are faced with difficult times... People are beginning to lose faith..."

 

Derick chokes on his own words for a moment and there's a short period of silence. He begins fiddling with his cross chain again...

 

"Four churches have been burned to the ground. Utterly incinerated. As if that weren't horrible enough, they were burned while IN SESSION. Countless lives have been lost... Just recently, Saint Theodores church, near Valensia, was burnt down. That was the fourth. It deeply troubles me..."

 

Derick stares at the adventurers with a look of concern.

 

"Remember... don't lose faith. It may not seem important to those of your stature and power... but without faith, nothing can be accomplished. You don't have to listen to me, but just promise me you'll remember my words..."

 

The adventurers promise.

 

Walking up to Gyrfalcon, Derick gestures for him to bow his head so that he may endow upon him a blessing. Gyrfalcon does so, and Derick's words ring with an eerie echo:

 

May thy sword be like that of Gaspoliner:

The almighty sword of light and faith

And strike down upon those who have sinned.

 

Derick then turns to the Dreamer:

 

May thy powers be as thy faith

Steady, constant, and perfectly controled

Never overwhelmed with rage.

 

Finally, Derick turns to Kaleyra:

 

May thy knowledge act as thy guide

And lead you through even the darkest hours

An internal compass of the soul.

 

Having finished his blessings, Saint Derick offers the adventurers sanctuary in the cathedral for the night due to the storm. Leading them to their rooms, he bids them good luck and good night and heads back to his chambers to rest...