Elements of Revenge - Monthly Summary

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Dark Majesty - Harvestgrain, 12 P.Y. (Oct '01)

A Brief History of Marae Lassel

Marae Lassel, or "Sheltering Isle," was the name that the original denizens of Asheron's world gave the island. These people, the Empyrean Yalain, maintained the island as a nature preserve and religious retreat, and a Protector of Marae was appointed every decade to preserve the island's habitat.

It's interesting to note that records recovered from long undisturbed underground archives indicate that a scandal erupted near the beginning of Emperor Caerlin I's reign prior to the Empyrean Shadow War.

According to the records, a young priestess named Adja testified that the Protector of Marae at the time was not doing her job. In fact, the Protector was actively destroying the island's habitat. At the conclusion of a long public trial, the Protector was stripped of her position and noble title. Her name was expunged from all official records of the Empire.

When the Olthoi invaded, they were able to quickly spread across the land through a worldwide series of portals, called the Empyrean portal network. To quell the lightning fast spread of the Olthoi, the Empyreans dismantled the Empyrean portal network and escaped to a world in-between dimensions, 1 while Asheron remained behind to discover a means to defeat the Olthoi.

As a result of the dismantling of the Empyrean portal network, various outlying islands were cut off from Dereth, including Marae Lassel.

Marae Lassel's "re-emergence" can be traced to a person named Candeth Martine. History says that Candeth was a member of the Dereth Exploration Society. The Society's leader, Mikael Alayne, betrayed Candeth to the Virindi, a powerful and capricious race of magic-users. The Virindi performed horrible experiments on Candeth, breaking his mind and mutating his body.

Eventually, Candeth escaped and has created a portal from Dereth to Marae Lassel, where he intends to avenge the transgressions against him by destroying the Virindi infrastructure located on the island.

There are three human towns in Marae Lassel. Humans are newcomers to Marae, and cluster along pacified coastal areas suitable for relative new beginners. Just watch out for the highwaymen that have come from Bandit Castle and MacNiall's Freehold.

The monsters will get tougher as people venture further north, and the central Marescent Plateau has level-restricted access. There are two Tumerok towns in these wilderness areas. They're quite different from one another, for reasons that will be revealed soon enough. One of the Tumerok towns is a virtual fortress built up on the Plateau, and the other can be found hidden deep in the wetlands along the west coast. 1 "...and escaped to a world in-between dimensions..." This particular bit slipped in despite a specific request that it not be. Unlike the rest of the article, you should consider it non-canonical. --Chris L'etoile aka Stormwaltz Editor's Note: This article was excerpted from IGN News.

The Gathering Storm - Leafcull, 12 P.Y. (Nov '01)

As the storm clouds gather on the horizon, the people of Ispar breathe the sweet air of respite. Virindi raiders have been driven away from the capital cities, averting a second Arwic. The people have prevailed.

They gather now, in communities of homes, built by the Zaikhal Arcanum. Here they display proudly their hard-won trophies and keepsakes. They entertain visitors and hearken friends to sit by warm fires to enjoy each other's company. Arcanum collectors have changed the focus of their collection to items once used to craft weapons wielded in the battle against the Shadows. Ceding one of the ingots over to a representative is rewarded by a writ of refuge. Over a hundred new homes have been constructed with the promise of many more to come.

The night sky is unmarred by the violet sheen that has so long reminded the people of the Virindi's attempts to gain control. Now the stars stare down more brightly than ever. Minute holes in a gentle blanket over the land.

In the peace, adventurous groups have set about their tasks in greater number, sharing the bounty of the hunt. They scour the land for treasures and find that the greatest treasure of all is sharing time with one another. Pushing deeper into the land of Marae Lassel they have found and struck down the young Olthoi Queen, earning accolades and kinship with the Aun Tumeroks. Others have taken a less savory course and hunted members of the Aun relentlessly, alienating themselves from the Tumeroks. On the plains, they stalk the unique beasts that inhabit the island with renewed vigor, striking relentlessly at the Mattekar and Siraluun in an effort to obtain the treasures that can be crafted from their hides.

The people grow stronger with every day. They meet challenges with renewed spirits, knowing that the threats they face can be overcome if they are unified.

But still the storm gathers in the distance, and a few watch those clouds with wary anticipation. As the thunder rolls and the lightning splits the sky they wonder what is to come next, and shiver at the thought of the coming snows.

The First Strike - Frostfell, 12 P.Y. (Dec '01)

December 14, 2001

"Why not destroy them all?"

Make him cease to be, open him up, discover his secrets. When he is liquid and meat you shall know everything. Martine was too tired to quiet the voice of the Virindi in his mind, so he let it ramble on while he tried to focus on the question. Sharpness hurts meat, the voice continued, it is a point. Meat knows nothing about a point, about how lovely a point is. You can make the point sing. We can sing together. No, the man still had his uses. There would be time enough to deliver the man to his minions. Once Martine had received his boon, there would be so much time.

"Forgive me, lord. I must have whispered too softly. I asked, 'Why not destroy them all?' Pardon my ignorance, but I don't understand why we didn't start with the one in the first settlement."

Holtburg, he would have called it a year ago. But Holtburg would not do now. Let the man be stupid. Holtburg was building a garrison. How could it be more perfect? Holtburg was building a garrison, and there was no need to destroy anything there. Quite the contrary.

"There is a new plan. A better plan. A. . ." slice and slice and slice and slice "We will still destroy some of them. Enough to cause fear. And leave a few to let them feel hope. Their hope is our friend. It makes them soft. Weak. The new plan is much better." The man, what is his name? Martine could not remember his name. He knew it once, what was it? slice and slice and slice The man did not speak anymore but he seemed content. Good, let him be content, let him be happy. Everyone was weak. Except him.

"So we shall do it here? This shall be the first?"

Martine nodded. He was tired. Tired of listening to the Virindi. The Virindi no longer listened to him. He had asked it to be quiet. He thought he had crushed it a long time ago. . . he thought sing and slice sing slice we will all sing and slice.

"My lord? What will we be doing?"

What had he said? Where was he? He looked around and caught sight of the tower looming before him, a large pyramid of stone illuminated by the flickering torches warding off absolute blackness. Hatred of the sight coursed through his blood, snapping his neck up as it bloomed in his brain.

In his mind, a small girl danced around his feet, singing. His daughter? Aritta? She paled. Her mouth went wide, frozen into a rictus. Her eyes were holes brimming with violet light.

You dare? He jabbed his thoughts into the place the Virindi whispered from. A horrible squealing, and it fled into the jumbled depths of their shared mind. Yes, go and hide for now.

"Silence." The man bowed. I am Martine. "Yes, this will be the first."

"Do you need time to prepare, lord? Do you not require. . . I know that you. . . that Isparians need focusing materials for the spells of great power. I have such a device if. . ."

"Need?" Martine was too amused to be offended. "I have desire. I have hate. That is all I need. It begins here."

Martine raised his hands.

--

She would not allow them to see tears. There had been one time before, after Thorsten. . . and she remembered too well the problems that had caused. She was the Queen. She could not forget that. Yes, a Queen without a castle, a Queen whose subjects barely knew her, many of whom would as soon spit at her feet than declare her their sovereign.

She was their Queen nonetheless.

She had not wanted the responsibility. She only wanted to raise her son. But she had tried to turn her back on the world, and the world had almost taken that son from her. Never again, she had sworn. Let her people go through their lives either unaware or resentful of their Queen, unaware of her life, unaware of her duties. That is why she was there.

But this. . . this was almost too much to bear. The grim faces of the Council of Antiquaries around her were almost as disheartening as the news they bore. Nuhmudira was the surprising exception, a distant and vague cast to her eye. Gods, Elysa thought, if Nuhmudira is unhinged by this disaster. . . Elysa felt laughter burbling up inside. She stifled it. She wanted to release it if only to release some of her tension, but she was not sure she could stop it from turning into a scream.

It had happened in the midst of high night. Where once had stood eighteen proud and tall Empyrean towers, now only six remained. The rest were crumbled and aflame. They had burst from within. Without warning or apparent provocation, they had been rent by an instant inferno, leaving six towers standing.

She had ordered guard outposts built the month before in six locations. Those six locations happened to be the same as where the towers were that remained. The Arcanum had been reporting portal space disturbances around the Nexus towns for weeks. The lack of specifics was maddening, but when Nuhmudira and Celdiseth agreed on an issue, even if that issue could be no better described than, "something is wrong," Elysa knew that there was a problem. When even Asheron could offer no insight into the nature of the matter, Elysa decided to begin construction on only the six. Being a Queen to whom no one paid taxes did not place her in a position to spend greatly. And she thought she had more time.

Rithwic. Al-Arqas. Nanto. Every day more Isparians portaled in from their homeworld. Yanshi. Lytelthorpe. Samsur. And they would appear around the nine Nexus towns. The settlements had been built around these points, to welcome and shepherd new arrivals into a dangerous world. And in the blink of an eye, twelve of them had been taken away. There would be no new visitors to these towns now. Only Yaraq, Shoushi, and Holtburg remained. And who could say for how much longer those would stay? If the goal of their adversary was to let no new Isparian adult portal in to Dereth, if they wanted the entire world closed, that could only mean. . .

While she had been lost in thought, the Council had started arguing again. Some were saying that this was the work of Martine, others that it was the Hopeslayer come again. The theories had been endless. Perhaps the Virindi, no, the Dericost; Nuhmudira started in about the Empyrean again, but she did it so half-heartedly that even Celdiseth did not raise his voice in scorn. Shoyanen was speaking earnestly to Fadsahil, presumably about the deep philosophical motivations behind such an attack, but either she was too blind to see Fadsahil's growing impatience, or too nervous to care.

They need you. The voice came, gentle and resolute into her mind. She wanted to sleep. She wanted to cry. Thorsten should have been here. They need you. Were “they” Asheron and Borelean? The Arcanum? The Isparians? Yes. They need you.

"Enough." A soft word spoken into the tumult, but the voices of the Arcanum, muttered and raised alike, dimmed to silence. She had not chosen this path freely, but that was no excuse not to learn her role well. "I have heard the reports of the Arcanum, and what I hear is that we know little. Which is worse than knowing nothing. If we knew nothing than at least we would not be afraid!" She deliberately let some of her anger leach into her last few words. Sometimes it was enough to lead with kindness. Other times. . . She turned to each of the twelve of the High Council present, looking into their eyes for a few seconds. Only Nuhmudira did not look a touch ashamed, but she seemed not to notice Elysa at all. Pwyll take the woman! She could not fall apart on them now.

"Nuhmudira, Celdiseth." At this at least Nuhmudira came to, and looked directly at her Queen. "I task the two of you with leading the search for how this happened. How and why. There are edifices of stone that lasted for thousands of years, destroyed in a heartbeat. We will find who did this. Find them and stop them. Kerralon, double the guards at the existing outposts. Report immediately to me any further disturbances or news. The rest of you are at Nuhmudira and Celdiseth's disposal." They nodded. She let her silence be their dismissal. It was dangerous to pair those two old antagonists together, but she needed something to shake Nuhmudira out of her current lethargy. Maybe Celdiseth would be the proper catalyst.

She looked around the empty room, wondering whether she should check in on Borelean. Let the lad sleep, she thought as she turned to go back to her quarters. Aye, sleep would be welcome. A smile crossed her face, the first of this long night as she anticipated a slumber so needed she doubted she would dream.

Asaina al-Arqis, a Scholar of the Arcanum, burst into the room, gasping for breath and with hair clumped to her sweaty brow. "My Queen, forgive the intrusion. . ." Normally Elysa would once again have let Asaina know that such formality was not necessary, but she nodded for the girl to continue. What now?

As Asaina related the news, Elysa struggled to understand the import of this latest event. It bordered on the laughable, but still. . ."Get Jaleh back in here." As Asaina sprinted out, Elysa put thoughts of tears and even sleep far from her mind. Her people were under attack. She was the Queen. She began reviewing in her mind the lists of supplies requested by the outposts as she waited for Jaleh to arrive.

December 18, 2001

Rumbling over the mountains and pouring into the valleys, winter has come once again to Dereth. Snow thickly blankets the landscape in a lustrous white gloss, coating the trees, fields, and hills. In several towns across Dereth gifts have been left in the town centers, spreading cheer to all. Farmers report that their harvests have yielded an abundance of carrots, but their sales have increased threefold in the past weeks. Though they cannot explain the reason behind the rush on carrots they point to the new housing communities for more complete answers.

New settlements are crowded with homeowners, enjoying the “fruits” of the season. Many struggle to complete the snowmen that will stand guard outside their homes, while inside others enjoy the comforts of their new slippers and warm mugs of cider.

Yet the storm clouds that gathered on the horizon during the month of Leafcull have set High Queen Strathelar into action. She has moved to fortify the arrival towns across Dereth in reaction to severe portal disturbances. Dispatching her Royal Guard to each of the outpost towns she has managed to salvage three from the destructive forces of a new enemy. In Holtburg, Shoushi, and Yaraq, training academies have been established to welcome and prepare new arrivals from Ispar for the trials that will face them in this strange world. Bolstered by the presence of her troops and the assistance of the newest arrivals, these three towns yet withstand the onslaught of this new force.

As the enemy begins the first stages of its assault, adventurers set forth to meet this newest threat. Thrown weapons experts take up arm and shield to face the enemy wherever it may next rise, as the Isparians unite at last beneath the banner of High Queen Strathelar.

Flesh and Blood - Snowreap, 13 P.Y. (Jan '02)

January 18, 2002 It had been long since Nuhmudira had felt wetness caress her forehead and cheeks. One look at her lined and wrinkled face would be enough to convince that she had no moisture left to give the world. No sweat, and certainly no tears. She brought her tongue out to the edge of her lip to taste the wet drops as they curled around her mouth. Neither sweat nor tears. The Book had prepared her for this. There was more scuffling below on the slab. He was certainly determined, although that determination had done him no good for the last hour. His feistiness was a good sign. Her own man stood off to the side and behind her, quiet and still. This scene before them, and he seemed no more ruffled than if they were upstairs, far up through many layers of stone and air, in her quarters sipping tea. Not that he ever drank the tea. Blood before blood, need before gift Despite what she had done, despite what she was about to do, she held in her mind why she was here, why all this was necessary. The Empyreans were coming. There could be no doubt. Martine was obviously nothing more than their agent. Trying to stop the flow of Isparians into Dereth by annihilating all the Nexus Arrival Points. . . yes, that had the stink of Empyrean intent all over it. The Book showed her the way. It was hard to remember when it was just a book, one of many Empyrean tomes that she had sought and collected in her time on Dereth. She was proud of what she had accomplished by her research on the enemy. Let Celdiseth voice his scorn and distrust all he may, but without her and the Geomantic arts she had mastered, there would be no housing, no Covenant Crystals. But Geomancy had never absorbed her the way the Book had. Hanaureli Rezau. Translated from the Yalaini it meant, "Letters of the Red Self". But the Yalain name was just a translation from the older and original Dericost, Inikshai Ardun. The Book of Blood. Nuhmudira, harder and colder than most, had, at first, been appalled by some of the rituals the Book had described. She had thought her own people were prone to bloodthirst. . . the Book showed her how soft they were. Its blackened pages and red-inked words revealed many things. Occasionally she wished she did not know what she knew now. But this would be the second step towards saving her people, one potentially far more powerful than just shelters. Chaos seeps, thorns grow the rift The Book whispered to her, told her she was taking too long. The Book was thirsty. Blood continued to ooze out of her pores and trickle down her face as she finished placing the last of the tokens at the head of the slab. Lightning and Acid, Fire and Frost--each token facing one of the four cardinal directions. The man continued to fight against the rope that strapped him to the flat stone. She recited to herself the list of his crimes. He had taken many lives, both back on Ispar and here in Dereth before the Lifestones had been activated. A murderer, an assassin. It was one of the reasons why he had been chosen. She was ready. She reached deep into the folds of her robe, and began to pull out the instrument. Unbidden, a memory of a memory sprang into her mind, a moment of some eighty years past. She was young then, so very young, her hair the color of flame and still in curls. There had been a gathering in the city square, and although her parents had stayed in front of her, blocking her eyes, she had heard the yells of the crowd, had felt their anger and hatred crackle through the masses of flesh. The crowd dispersed, she and her parents with it, but later she had run back to the square, to see for herself the body of the young woman. The stones were still there as well, and the words written in crimsonthorn dye across the dirt, Here be a Witch. Milantos served justice swift and harsh to those who practiced their craft outside custom and law. But Nuhmudira would never see Milantean soil again. Shadow taints, and Darkness endures The Zharalim, her own member of the Shagar Zharala, he who had brought in one of his ex-brotherhood for her purposes, moved softly to her side. So quiet, so deadly. A whisper, "It is time, my Malika." Yes. It was time. The Book was very clear. To achieve a desire of great power, to manipulate to one's will the lines of mana that flowed so strongly on this world, it was not enough to only perform the Rites. One must be willing to sacrifice something essential to one's self. Something too dear to be replaced. Nuhmudira had long considered what this might be. She was old. Withered and sere, love and passion were relics from a distant past. She had nothing to lose, and this is what had made her so dangerous to her enemies. She was the Monster of the Labryinth, after all. But ultimately, she knew what she had to lose. Knew what she must sacrifice. Redemption had never been close at hand for Nuhmudira. She had left too many broken promises and lives in her wake for the comfort of that illusion. One day, she had always thought, one day she might make things right. It was a rich and delicious irony that her bravest attempt to redeem the world would cost her any chance at being able to enjoy it. Her prisoner below would merely lose his life. Nuhmudira was losing her soul. She drew the dagger out of her robe. Hope falters, but Sacrifice cures.

--

The man gasped and nearly collapsed to the ground. He looked over to the side and saw Martine whirling back and forth, as if the psychic explosion had occurred nearby. The hybrid had obviously felt it as well. "Is this your madness?" Martine snarled at him, as he continued his mad circling. "No, my lord. I. . . I do not know what happened.” And then it began. The lines of power rose and fell, undulating all across the world. Tendrils of energy snaking out, rushing around them. Thousands, hundreds of thousands of sinewy weaves streaking back and forth across the sky. For those with the power to see the sky was lit with pure power. But to what effect? Martine began laughing. He was talking to himself between his cackling, something he had been doing more often of late. There was no sense to be made of the mumbling. Martine spoke loud and clear, "They have created an alternate path for the magic to flow." "What, my lord? I do not understand." "They have set a new foundation. A new power of enchantment. Something that even now seeps into their steel. So much power and for so little cause. Do not doubt me, little man, I have some intimacy with. . . different forms of power." Martine resumed his mad cackling. It was impossible. A new foundation of magic? And even assuming it to be true, of what use would it be? The man's mind raced through different possibilities. . . "Relax, mouse, relax. Little mice, fleshlings fleshlings, little mice rolling dice making games and play. Am I a man? Am I?" Martine's voice had started out cogent, but was once more slipping into madness. There were too many things out of control. . . Martine took off his mask. Raw muscle coated with a red glistening sheen leered grotesquely underneath. His mouth continued to move, spouting madness. "Am I lost? The Singularity is so far away. Fleshlings scurry, portalspace disturbed, meat is meat, so meaty. I? I?" And a new mask appeared on his face, formed out of thin air, white and pristine and smooth, this one with no eye-holes or mouth-slit. But gradually the mask gained these features, and more. The mask became his face, and Martine opened up his mask-eyes, and spoke through his mask-mouth. "He hurt me. He has hurt me so much. Let the mice scurry. I am going to hurt him back. I will. You will have what you desire from me. But I am going to hurt him." The man was reminded of sailing the deeps in the throes of a timber-wracking storm. There was nothing but to let the storm do what it will and pray. Martine continued unabated. "It is not fair to either of them, I know. But my family is gone. They are gone. He will pay. He will cry and cry and cry, hiding in his hiding-hole. He will know how deep the shadows go. He will know why the worms turn and turn. To know is to hurt. He will cry!" Violet light burst forth from Martine, illuminating the sky in all directions for miles. The man shut his eyes from the blinding glare. He was glad that they continued to meet in the far places, long distant from any wandering eyes. When he opened his eyes, he was even gladder to see that Martine had finally come back down to the ground and was standing there motionless. Perhaps it had been the shock of feeling the explosion of power that had unhinged Martine so quickly. So much could be accomplished if Martine could just maintain his sanity for a little while longer. Martine turned to look at the man. The mask was gone, replaced by a semblance of a normal human face. Martine loved to change his face, although this, like the mumbling to himself, was happening much more frequently of late. Was the madness not over? But when Martine spoke, his voice was crystalline cold. "My flesh and blood. My flesh and blood shall hurt him so."

January 22, 2002 As winter's influence spreads across Dereth, High Queen Elysa Strathelar intensifies her defense of the three remaining arrival outposts. Thus far, no new assaults from Martine have occurred. The High Queen however, has chosen not to rest upon her laurels, and has ordered a vanguard of her troops to fortify and support each town. They occupy the Empyrean towers, utilizing them as a base of operations. Though the presence of these new forces may deter further assaults, strange happenings have been reported in the surrounding areas. Might they be related to the previous attacks? Across the land, the builders employed by the Arcanum have continued their feverish construction of houses. New settlements are opened and the effort to allow every Isparian their own home continues. Cottages, Villas and Mansions have been built to further the accommodation effort. The Arcanum has continued to keep up with the cause, placing the important covenant stones with as much zeal as the carpenters. Rumors abound that the Arcanum and Nuhmudira are responsible for the gifts that graced town centers through the month of Frostfell, but the mage and her council have remained silent on the issue. Warriors, hunters and magicians alike return from the far reaches of Dereth with new weapons, armor, and jewelry, imbued with a strange and powerful new form of magic. These items are rare but valued and coveted above all else. This new magic is the most promising find that the Isparians have had in a great many months, and is a welcome surprise at the end of the Festival season. Yet there is something sinister looming over the people. There is a shadow that creeps into the minds of every adventurer, a feeling of being watched from afar. Something wicked grows in the hidden places of the world and beneficial magics are not the only new discovery of this time. With an uncertain future ahead of them the Children of Ispar struggle through a harsh winter, trying to enjoy their new fruits while under the baleful eye of a madman.

Fever Dreams - Coldeve, 13 P.Y. (Feb '02)

Much has changed since the children of Ispar first came to Dereth. Yet the character of man himself has not changed, and at no time was this seen better than in the month of Coldeve, 13 PY. The darkest of emotions, greed, was displayed by many, while those who took on the cause of Aun Aulakeh displayed the most noble of intentions.

Ever since the Hoary Mattekar had been hunted to extinction, Isparians had sought means to recreate the fabled robe that had been crafted from its hide. Various methods were tried, with varying degrees of success. Some thought the answer lay in unstable duplication magics, using these to create copies of existing robes, although the consequences for using such magics was occasionally very dire. Others sought less dangerous means, such as Britana of Greenspire, who found a means to create robes of similar qualities from the pelts of Canscent Mattekars. However this did not seem to address the Isparian greed for this robe's unique proprieties and many gave up in despair, feeling they could never obtain one. Suddenly, in the beginning of Coldeve, Hoary Mattekars reappeared in the land. While their original habitat seems to have been confined to areas near Mount Esper, now they could be found throughout Northern and Southern Osteth. How they came to reappear in the land is a mystery, although some blame two unusual hunters who were seen stalking various Mattekar breeds the previous month. In the end though, most Isparians cared less about how the mighty beasts had reappeared and more about how they could find and stalk one of them.

Coldeve also saw the return of Master Smith's, creators of the much sought after Shadow Hunter armor, abilities. Many had given up any hope of them recovering from the attacks of the shadow twisted assassin Hamud ibn Rafik. It was after these attacks that the Master Smiths had lost the skill necessary to create Shadow Hunter armor of the same quality and resilience that they had once. Initially, many in the land had hoped that their loss of skill was due to the vitae many suffer from when they lose their life on Auberean. However, to the frustration of the Smiths, dark magics of a kind unseen before prevented them from regaining their previous skills. To their credit, the Master Smiths labored on, providing the best armor they were capable of crafting, but they always wondered if they would ever see the day when their abilities returned. Thanks to Nuhumdira's magics, that day came and they are once more able to create armor of surpassing quality and excellence, to the joy of many in the land. In some circles though it was wondered why she came to their aid. Was it due to the pity she might have felt for their plight or was it due to fear, fear of the Empyreans returning?

While greed or fear motivated some, the pull of exploration and mystery motivated others. Many took on the challenge given by the Arcanum to explore ancient Empyrean constructions found near the magical essences. Evidently the magics that had originally shielded these structures from our notice had worn thin, causing some to fear that the enchantments behind the Essences might be weakening as well. Initial reports from explorers told of new varieties of elemental creatures, creatures of Acid and Ice, along with unique varieties of Golems. In addition, a Golem long theorized, the Pyreal Golem, was found, to the distress of many mages due to its extreme resistance to enchantment. Unfortunately, these initial explorations were frustrated by not only the creatures found there, but also by the various Empyrean mechanisms designed to keep intruders out. Eventually though their ingenuity and perseverance won out, and through combined efforts explorers penetrated the deepest depths of these constructs, finding prisms of pure elemental force. Unsure what to do with these objects, the Arcanum returned them to the explorers. Through trial and error, a few found that by combining these prisms in a certain fashion and then attaching them to a helm crafted from a Niffis shell, they could create a helm that granted the wearer unsurpassed resistance and agility. However the history of these Empyrean constructions, or propylaeums, has yet to be ascertained. Some have felt rogue mages practicing forbidden demiurgic magics could have created them, but only time will tell what really is the history of these places.

In the end though, one singular event defined Coldeve, and it was the events revolving around Aun Aulakhe and a location simply called "Portal Space." Rumors had been circulating of Aun Tumeroks roaming the wilds of Osteth, and were finally confirmed when Master Archmage Celdiseth introduced his new apprentice to the Arcanum, the Tumerok Aun Tikakhe. Soon Aun Aulakhe, son of Aun Shimauri of Timaru, established a camp to the south of Celdiseth's cottage. While Tikakhe received instruction from Celdiseth, Aulakhe pondered how to accomplish a task assigned to him by his father. After proving their worth to him, through assembling a spell casting buadren, Aulakhe brought Isparians into his confidence and shared his mission with them. Aulakhe had been commissioned by his father to rescue the great warrior Aun Tanua from the clutches of the Virindi. Aulakhe's keh, or spirit, had searched long and hard for any trace of the warrior, when he finally found a faint impression of him deep in the reaches of portal space. Through focus, Aulakhe could summon a portal near Aun Tanua, and requested all who could to try to find and rescue him.

Many Isparians answered this challenge, and soon found themselves face to face with Virindi constructs of unsurpassed power. These constructs seemed to be not completely solid and could reach in through armor and protection spells to damage one internally. All hopes of assault were given up, but the honor of the Isparians required them to continue until all hope was exhausted. Many feckless adventurers compared it to the lair of the Hopeslayer before his defeat, and enjoyed the challenge presented by the location many had termed, "Portal Space." The Isparians pressed on, only to stumble across things too horrible to relate. However, one adventurer recorded her tale and it can be found in the archives of the Arcanum for all those interested. Eventually, their perseverance paid off and Aun Tanua was indeed found, although no way could be found to release him from his captivity. The magics of the Tumeroks though are strange and wonderful, and an ember from the tribal council fire given to the Isparians allowed Aun Tanua's keh to join his brethren once again. Although grateful for the small measure of relief the Isparians were able to give Aun Tanua, Aun Aulakhe continues to search for him to be free, in both body and spirit.

Many now wonder what effect these events will have on the future. Will Isparians and Tumeroks alike face harsh reprisals for their attempts to free Aun Tanua? What is the true nature of the elemental propylaeums? Was their discovery really due to chance or is some hidden force at work, a force that is trying to rediscover ancient demiurgic principles and spells? Whatever the case, the events of Coldeve have again shown that the character of man remains the same and will rise to the occasion.

Persuasion - Morningthaw, 13 P.Y. (Mar '02)

“If Nature abhors a Vacuum, Secrets abhor Ignorance.” - Jacinth the Loremaster

Secrets. Dereth is a land of secrets. What exactly became of the Empyreans? Does Asheron have any ulterior plans for us? Who or what is the force behind Bael’Zharon and the forces of Shadow? Why are the Virindi in Dereth? Nothing remains secret forever and each day some new particle of truth about our mysterious new home is uncovered. The month of Wintersebb, 13 P.Y. was no exception.

While appearing a bit more ornate than the Mansions held by various nobles in Dereth, Nuhmudira’s mansion seemed no different than any other. Few had been guests in her home, Nuhmudira was not known for her hospitality, but with the reports of her disappearance it became the starting point for those searching for her. What they found there was beyond their imagination. Deep in a hidden recess of her dungeon, a corpse of a slain Zharalim was found on a sacrificial altar, drained completely of its blood. Even more disturbing were the fragments of Nuhmudira’s journal found there, written just the month before, revealing that she had been undertaking these sacrificial rituals for some time. Many began to question her sanity after reading several passages in the book, wondering if she had taken complete leave of her senses or was under the influence of some dark force. While all were surprised at this revelation, none more so than Queen Elysa, who had known Nuhmudira for years and had relied heavily upon her advice since her return to a more active role in Dereth.

The force behind the influx of demiurgical creatures and vaults in the land seemed closer to being revealed, with the discovery of new facilities in the Direlands. Adventurers reported that Martine’s forces were behind these facilities and that twisted creatures were being created within. In one facility twisted Olthoi, infused with the magically resistant Chorizite, were being bred. Most disturbing was that these creatures seemed sentient, and would occasionally utter unnatural human like sounds or share unsettling visions of someone’s past. Another facility seemed to be responsible for creating elemental creatures of opposing elements. Creatures of Fire and Ice or Lightning and Acid could be found within. Tying these facilities together was a final location where an enhanced Dranith Menacet could be found deep within. Unlike his previous incarnations, the reborn Dranith easily vanquished all comers. Dranith seemed pleased with his new form and boasted to those he defeated of how pleased his “father” would be. Those that had faced Dranith shuddered to think what Martine’s “son” might have in store for them in the future.

All discoveries though were not of such a dire or shocking nature. Warriors and Archers alike rejoiced at the discovery of new weapons and techniques in the land. Alchemists researching various potions and combinations discovered a means to double the damage done by the arrows wielded by the archers. However only an accomplished Archer could wield them in their bow, so while not all benefited from this discovery, the strength of these arrows motivated many archers to further hone their skills. In addition, through means unknown, extremely powerful weapons were found in the land that, in the hand of an experienced warrior, could cut down any creature unfortunate enough to be in its path. With these new weapons in hand, the confidence of many warriors in their abilities was restored.

In a time of such amazing revelations and discoveries, the Bronze Statues gifted to the various towns by the Arcanum would probably escape the notice of most. One singular event though thrust them to the forefront of the thinking of many, questioning the intent of these “gifts”. After their appearance, the statues began casting beneficial spells on all those nearby. While some were grateful for these gifts, others were annoyed with their constant spell casting, but all were in agreement that they were harmless. All this changed when they awoke one day to find the statues casting harmful spells in place of the beneficial ones. The Statues seemed immune to attack, so little could be done to stop them. Adding to the confusion was that in some towns two statues appeared, one casting beneficial spells while the other casting harmful ones. In other locations the Statue disappeared entirely. Whatever the case, these harmful Statues disappeared a day later and the towns soon returned to normal. The Arcanum has yet to officially comment on why this happened with the statues, but many are questioning what exactly happened. Was this a relatively harmless practical joke played on Isparians by a bored mage of the Arcanum? Or is it related to some hereto-unknown scheme?

Secrets. Dereth is a land of secrets. As soon as one is uncovered, two more seem to take its place. What will become of Isparians when the truth behind all these secrets is known? Is Nuhmudira completely in control of her faculties? What part has Martine played in the creation of these demiurgical creatures? That, like the secrets themselves, has yet to be discovered.

Betrayal - Wintersebb, 13 P.Y. (Apr '02)

April 5, 2002 She wore her fatigue as a thick and heavy cloak draped over her mind. It helped protect her from the terror threatening to overwhelm her. And when the fatigue was not enough to stop her from thinking about the events of the last few months, she turned to anger. The incandescent flame of rage burned away any shreds of panic that managed to break through the dull layers of sleeplessness.

Betrayal. Betrayal at every turn. Betrayed by Asheron, who brought her to this strange land. Betrayed by Thorsten as his lifespark vanished on the end of that demons pincer. And now betrayed by Nuhmudira, next to Asheron her closest advisor.

Her land was under siege. Elemental attacks rising. New and powerful golems appearing in the Direlands. New enemy fortifications. And now, the time when she needed sage counsel the most, she was alone. Asheron had been gone for the last few weeks. He had been disappearing more and more recently. Thorsten was gone forever. And Nuhmudira. . .

She had completely vanished. Elysa had trouble believing the rumors Jaleh had passed to her about Nuhmudira. No, her rage would not allow her to harbor any illusion. She did not want to believe the rumors. But that had nothing to do with the truth. Oh, Nuhmudira, what have you done?

Could she trust no one? Even Borelean, her pride and joy (my son, the monster tried to kill my son. I will see you dead, Martine. I will scatter your ashes to the four corners of the world. . .), was too young to help. She could not rely on even him.

The storm that Nuhmudira had warned her about so many months ago had come. It could soon rage in full force. And in what shape was Elysa to meet the challenge? Exhausted. Furious. Alone. She thought back to an earlier time, a time of nightmares and blood. There, deep in the dank stinking lair of the Olthoi Queen, she had seen her compatriots and love slaughtered by a loathsome monstrosity. She remembered the brutal hammering force of grief and despair, and the bright shining rage that, for that moment, cleansed the despair from her soul. As she had drawn back the arrow that pierced the glistening, faceted insectoid orb straight through to its abominable brain, she had felt nothing but a calm, soothing vengeance.

Standing in her stone chambers, dust dancing through sunlit air, that feeling once more washed through her. Exhaustion and rage were both replaced by a cool sense of. . . anticipation. Deep within her mind, she was readying her arrows, sharp and deadly. When a guard rushed in to inform her of the latest events, he was surprised to see her smiling.

“Kai,” Nuhmudiras voice cracked as she raised it above the whistling wind. Her red hair and dark skin showed in harsh opposition to the snow-capped mountain they climbed. “How much further?”

Kai, wearing the green leathers of a peasant, turned to his master and pointed to a clearing. There a large head rested, its maw gaping wide, beckoning them to enter.

“The library lies within, Master.” He turned and entered.

Nuhmudira pulled her robes more tightly about her. Ibn Rabs blood still strengthened her body, but the chill was enough to make the strongest of people shiver. A warm glow shone within the head, and the soft purple glow of one of the many portals could be seen at the foot of a flight of stairs that lead into an Empyrean foyer. Her reward for teaching this upstart was close, so close.

She followed Kai inside.

Hidden Vein - Solclaim, 13 P.Y. (May '02)

The dead leaves of the trees above you rustle in the wind. A sibilant, chattering voice breathes, "A sapling shall stand before the seeds of the warmer light. The sapling is bent to loathe its sap, the man of the south, and all seeds of the cleaner light. Weights of earth and anger shall be tied to it, and the sapling shall bend in pain and confusion. But there shall be none to comfort, for the planters are lost to feversleep." -Tall Tree Prophecy

Choices. The citizens of Dereth had faced many hard choices in recent days, not the least of which was the fate of Nuhmudira of the Arcanum. Now, a new choice was before them and the uncertainty in whom to place their trust became even more clouded. In the North, rumors grew of strange new Greivvers raiding farms. Upon investigation it seemed that the whole area had became infested with this new species that appears to be able to spin webs. Is this a precursor of something even more ominous?

Alas, Dereth's warriors have matters more pressing than these. Their very towns were under an almost constant attack from the bronze statues. As the town raids by the bronze statues intensified, the citizens turned to a leaderless Arcanum for answers. The Arcanum, struggling in Nuhmudira's absence to find answers, found them in an unexpected visit from Lord Asheron. It seems that they were not the only ones with hard choices to make. After instructing the Arcanum, Asheron sent his emissary to Eastham with instructions for the warriors to find a Hidden Vein of pure essence.

Forging through armies of elementals, they made their way down fathomless caverns until they reached the font. Using this essence in concert with the knowledge bestowed to the Arcanum by Asheron, the people of Dereth were now able to make new weapons of diamond-hardened pyreal. Isparian weapons with abilities never before dreamed.

The Arcanum also provided the people of Dereth with access to the tunnels beneath the statues. Breaking ethereal seals they moved forward underneath the cities, vanquishing the native casts, nullifying the statues and ending the raids. The battle was not yet over. No sooner than they had they stopped to rest than an even greater threat arose - Martine.

The hybrid Martine began to appear to the townspeople. This half-man half-Virindi caused panic wherever he appeared. And yet, oddly, he asked the citizens of Dereth for help. A faction of Renegade Virindi who was once loyal to Martine were now breaking away and pursuing him. Out of fear or recklessness, the people of Dereth reacted first by attacking him, not knowing or caring that he was asking for their help. This proved to be a great exercise in futility.

In all the accounts given from the witnesses present he never once attacked first; he often rewarded those who came to his aid. If provoked, he unleashed a mighty fury upon those looking to fight. Still more disturbing were his utterances that implied that Asheron had been using us a pawns. Martine stated that Asheron was using our life force collected by the lifestones to keep the Lost Empyreans in portal space alive.

This caused great concern in the townsfolk. The rumors that had existed since the lifestones were first created were now being confirmed by one of our own that returned from portal space. Martine's lack of control and insane mumblings led many to dismiss his accusations. Yet still, it raised doubt in the people's minds. Could it be true?

The people were torn. To trust Asheron? Or help a madman?

Choices.

Castling - Seedsow, 13 P.Y. (Jun '02)

The dead leaves of the trees above you rustle in the wind. A sibilant, chattering voice breathes, "Sap of Alaidain. Sap of Karishna. The watchful stars turn, man of the south. Soon they shall return. But in that coming, there shall be turning. One shall be another. They shall not know you. There shall be no singing, and no sleep." -Tall Tree Prophecy Fallen Heroes

Elysa tended to her friend as best she could. She tried desperately to think of someone who may be able to help but there were none. Surely he wasn't meant to die this way she thought. She shuddered to think of raising Borelean alone with the threats they faced. Now Asheron needed her help,but she was no healer. Who on Dereth could possibly help? The effects of Asheron being struck down were starting to be realized. The entire landscape of Dereth seemed to be affected by it. Creatures had suddenly left their homes and sought shelter in the Obsidian Plains of all places. The mana streams of the land were being reshaped and certain new skills were now available as other skills were lost. The people of Dereth for the first time were faced with the possibilty of a world without Asheron.

Nuhmudira lay on the slab. Death awaiting her. She hears it call. No,not death. Something else. Calling to her. She calls back to it and it answers. Suddenly all her memories return and she is being attended by the Sclavi who have been following her. They undo her bonds and whisk her away.

Martine sat in the middle of the room. Unmoving. Trying to stay focused. He had lost control before and it could have cost everyone in Dereth. Gaerlan had used him as a tool. What was he to do now? Was he still able to make a difference or was it too late? Martine had thought he would surely be attacked when the Isparians found him. Instead they seemed to understand his plight after talking to his assistants. Martine had even made available a new prismatic stone for the Isparian weapons. One that combined the elements.Yet Martine still struggles within himself and is afraid of what he may do. Perhaps with enough persuading he will make the right decision. Time is of the essence.

As the Citadel moves over North Osteth headed in the direction of Mt. Esper. The volacano known to the Falatacot as Velacixque or Blood-Heart. Gaerlan's four Generals Strife,Stasis,Tempest and Corrosion attacked relentlessly the cities and outposts all across the land. Ominous prophecies were heard as the beings were routed. Tales of becoming something more than what were now. Gaerlan's Generals then make a combined attack on all the Capitals of Dereth at once. In a great battle they are beaten back but suddenly a portal appears in Yanshi. It leads to Gaerlan's Elemental Sanctum. Within he is found to be standing in the middle of the four fallen generals invoking a dark ancient ritual.

"Here I have gathered my generals, and now sacrifice them. Blood of the Blood, poured now into the vessel."

"Where is she? The form, it comes...but where is she? Where is my vessel?" "Who? Asheron! Asheron! I will not let you take my creations. You cannot have the Harbinger! It is mine." "Now, it shall be done. Arise Harbinger, to serve me. Take your form from the fallen and kneel to my command."

"Iai, Laurai auri nulaerai. Ulerai aertainuu. Iai, gaulan faunir. Iurai auri saervu Gaerlan." "Here, reformed and complete. Elements together. Here, life begins. Arise, and serve Gaerlan!"

"World eater. Your vessel stolen away. Take your form, from the fallen." "Uetenar uethen. Uojrin taentril courlief. Braulaerin tuentara, daucecrai."

"In the dawning of the world, they lived as one. In the dawning of the world, without the sun. Sundered wide apart to feed the world their blood. Now return as one." "Wind, Storm, Flame, and Decay together, a complete being. Perfect in everyway. Mine to command! You are my servant arise, arise!"

With Asheron fallen and Nuhmudira missing who would become Dereth's new hero?

Repercussions - Leafdawning, 13 P.Y. (Jul '02)

The dead leaves of the trees above you rustle in the wind. A sibilant, chattering voice breathes, "Sap of Alaidain. Sap of Karishna. The watchful stars turn, man of the south. Soon they shall return. But in that coming, there shall be turning. One shall be another. They shall not know you. There shall be no singing, and no sleep." -Tall Tree Prophecy Fallen Heroes Elysa tended to her friend as best she could. She tried desperately to think of someone who may be able to help but there were none. Surely he wasn't meant to die this way she thought. She shuddered to think of raising Borelean alone with the threats they faced. Now Asheron needed her help,but she was no healer. Who on Dereth could possibly help? The effects of Asheron being struck down were starting to be realized. The entire landscape of Dereth seemed to be affected by it. Creatures had suddenly left their homes and sought shelter in the Obsidian Plains of all places. The mana streams of the land were being reshaped and certain new skills were now available as other skills were lost. The people of Dereth for the first time were faced with the possibilty of a world without Asheron. Nuhmudira lay on the slab. Death awaiting her. She hears it call. No,not death. Something else. Calling to her. She calls back to it and it answers. Suddenly all her memories return and she is being attended by the Sclavi who have been following her. They undo her bonds and whisk her away. Martine sat in the middle of the room. Unmoving. Trying to stay focused. He had lost control before and it could have cost everyone in Dereth. Gaerlan had used him as a tool. What was he to do now? Was he still able to make a difference or was it too late? Martine had thought he would surely be attacked when the Isparians found him. Instead they seemed to understand his plight after talking to his assistants. Martine had even made available a new prismatic stone for the Isparian weapons. One that combined the elements.Yet Martine still struggles within himself and is afraid of what he may do. Perhaps with enough persuading he will make the right decision. Time is of the essence. As the Citadel moves over North Osteth headed in the direction of Mt. Esper. The volacano known to the Falatacot as Velacixque or Blood-Heart. Gaerlan's four Generals Strife,Stasis,Tempest and Corrosion attacked relentlessly the cities and outposts all across the land. Ominous prophecies were heard as the beings were routed. Tales of becoming something more than what were now. Gaerlan's Generals then make a combined attack on all the Capitals of Dereth at once. In a great battle they are beaten back but suddenly a portal appears in Yanshi. It leads to Gaerlan's Elemental Sanctum. Within he is found to be standing in the middle of the four fallen generals invoking a dark ancient ritual. "Here I have gathered my generals, and now sacrifice them. Blood of the Blood, poured now into the vessel." "Where is she? The form, it comes...but where is she? Where is my vessel?" "Who? Asheron! Asheron! I will not let you take my creations. You cannot have the Harbinger! It is mine." "Now, it shall be done. Arise Harbinger, to serve me. Take your form from the fallen and kneel to my command." "Iai, Laurai auri nulaerai. Ulerai aertainuu. Iai, gaulan faunir. Iurai auri saervu Gaerlan." "Here, reformed and complete. Elements together. Here, life begins. Arise, and serve Gaerlan!" "World eater. Your vessel stolen away. Take your form, from the fallen." "Uetenar uethen. Uojrin taentril courlief. Braulaerin tuentara, daucecrai." "In the dawning of the world, they lived as one. In the dawning of the world, without the sun. Sundered wide apart to feed the world their blood. Now return as one." "Wind, Storm, Flame, and Decay together, a complete being. Perfect in everyway. Mine to command! You are my servant arise, arise!" With Asheron fallen and Nuhmudira missing who would become Dereth's new hero?

Atonement - Verdantine, 13 P.Y. (Aug '02)

The dead leaves of the trees above you rustle in the wind, as if a sibilant, chattering voice were saying, "Beast you are, Watcher, and no planter of stones. We shall have our own. Her eyes shall be clear water. She shall stand at the side of the great and chosen, though not always both at once. She shall whisper in the dark, and that shall resound evermore." -Tall Tree Prophecy

The Crystals sprang forth from the ground seemingly overnight,covering all of Osteth in a rainbow of deadly Elementals. It was now clear why most of Dereth's fauna had sought shelter in the direlands and Obsidian Plains. Dereth was under siege. Word soon came that another of Dereth's cities had been destroyed. The city of Yanshi lie in a smoldering crater,bringing back memories of the shadow wars and the fate of Arwic and Tufa.

The curious found that traveling had become most perilous as the Elementals were everywhere. Once arriving at Yanshi they found that all of the residents had been saved by Asheron's lifestones...all but one. The jeweler Xao Wu was missing and her family and friends were worried that perhaps Gaerlan had killed her or worse, had captured her, to use her in his nefarious schemes.

There were reports also from the Arcanum that Nuhmudira had escaped from Gaerlan's clutches and had appeared to them. From the reports she seemed "different" yet still willing to help in the fight against the Empyrean Gaerlan. Adventurer's had also found that Martine had left his retreat and ended his self imposed exile. Had he finally reached a decision concerning Asheron's and perhaps even his own fate?

The Lugians had been working on some amazing new armor to help battle the upcoming threats facing this world they shared. A covenant had been made between the three major races of Dereth. The Humans,Lugians and Tumerok would stand together for the first time to defend their new homeland against this threat. The new armor it seemed had been stolen from the Arcanum's storehouses soon after delivery. As before with the amulets it seemed that the Derethians would have to recover it piece by piece.

Soon came a call to arms. A portal had appeared in Qalaba'r opening a way into the very core of the Ice cistern. Brave warriors found their way through multitudes of Elementals and rallied together to enter the portal. Once inside they discovered a giant crystal powerful and almost impossible to defeat,but defeat it they did.

Once the crystal had been destroyed Martine appeared to the warriors. He congratulated them on their victory yet told them that this was but the first of four such crystals. He told them that these crystals were supplying Gaerlan with his power. He also told them that Gaerlan would now take notice of them and surely the next one would not be so easily defeated.

Strangely enough Martine also discussed what had happened between he and Asheron in the last few days. It seemed that while he was in his retreat he was visited by a brave young boy. Elysa's son Borelean. Astounded by the bravery of this young lad who had been the target of his own assassination attempt. He was even more surprised by the question the boy asked of him. One that he had no answer for. Why did you try to kill my Uncle? The boy asked. This caused Martine to search deep inside himself and he could find no true answer. Martine finally realised that he had only himself to blame. It was then that he made his decision to help Asheron.

Martine went on to explain how Gaerlan had tricked him with the promise of going home and helping him to exact his revenge on Asheron. He also explained how he had investigated the mainland and other areas of Auberean. How the Olthoi and the fungus had taken over. The most interesting fact he revealed was that Gaerlan was the reason that the Olthoi had invaded Auberean in the first place. All the blame that Asheron recieved from his own people and even some Derethians had been misplaced. It was Gaerlan all along.

Martine then explained how Asheron had used the lifestones to protect Isparians from unnatural death in this place. He also explained how a portion of their lifeforce was being used to keep the Empyreans trapped in portalspace alive while he worked on trying to free them. Now tasked by Asheron to find the remaining core crystals,Martine vowed to find them and to provide access to them as soon as he could. It was evident that he wanted to stop Gaerlan and atone for his mistakes.

The Fire and Acid cistern cores opened up shortly after the the Ice core crystal was defeated. After the defeat of each of these Martine appeared and offered his appreciation to the warriors.

The rock of Yanshi. A landmark among the townspeople. It stands untouched by the devastation surrounding it. Arcanum surveyors along with Antius Blackmoor study it intently. It seems there is a great power brewing underneath it. What exactly can only be speculation at this point. What has Gaerlan unleashed with his strange rituals? Had he succeeded in summoning his Harbinger? Had he found a suitable vessel to replace the missing Nuhmudira?

All the while the Citadel moves closer to it's destination and the search for the missing Xao Wu and the final Core crystal continues.

Verdict - Thistledown, 13 P.Y. (Sep '02)

"We, Isparians, have claimed our home. This land is ours." - Nuhmudira

Like beings straight out of legend, Martine and Gaerlan dueled one another with all the powers and magics at their disposal. The two exchanged a great many bolts and blows, neither besting the other for a time. However, due to his prior deceptions, Gaerlan possessed knowledge of Martine's powers that eventually helped him trap Martine in a sort of elemental prison. Martine's future, and all Derethians' by extension, looked grim to all who viewed the battle.

Unfortunately for Gaerlan, however, he had underestimated his foe. Martine utilized a mysterious Virindi power to escape his prison and bring down the Floating Citadel in a series of blinding explosions. Gaerlan's Elemental armies and the Crystals of which they spawned sank back into the ground from whence they came. An eerie silence spread over the land as if a storm had passed.

For a few uneasy days, few knew what became of Martine and Gaerlan. Parties scouted the land for the fallen Citadel, and returned to tell of a gargantuan crater with nigh impassable slopes. In the calm, some Derethians began to resume their lives. The Arcanum released a few Apartments and began to rebiuld Arwic proper. In the general lack of news, even the fact that the infamous drunkard Ulgrim the Unpleasant had moved to the Consortium above Xarabydun seemed important.

As suddenly as the Elemental legions had disappeared, rough collections of Golem and Elemental troops loosely assaulted outlying towns. It became obvious that Gaerlan had survived, and was hiding like a rat in his shattered Citadel. Asheron himself opened portals to Training Grounds to test adventurers before portaling them into the heart of the crater. There they entered the great structure, wherein they bested an ancient gauntlet of tests and traps to slay Gaerlan's elemental aspects, and finally, Gaerlan himself.

Once the people struck the final blow, Nuhmudira unexpectedly portaled into Gaerlan's sanctuary, seeking vengeance. She transformed Gaerlan into state of undead, and captured his true form within a phylactery, so that Derethians could use him for training. Great equipment of Empyrean origin was to be found upon defeating him.

With Gaerlan's oppression dissolved, the attempt to discover what threat was awakening beneath Yanshi redoubled. Once the way had been cleared, High Queen Strathelar and her Royal Guards led an assault on that which lay beneath. After suffering heavy losses, she called upon all citizens of Dereth to assist in the offensive. Many adventurers came to find that they needed to destroy four separate Crystals before the Harbinger could be slain. After days of battle, a great many casualties and innumerable trips to flinching Lifestones, bold humans such as Red Monk of Solclaim and Kittenluv of Wintersebb managed slay the roused Harbinger where it lay.

Even with the many questions still left unanswered, Derethians eased into the fall festival season....