Pantheon - The Third Age - Game Thread

[Zephyr]

FATHER!?!

[Zephyr]

[Perhaps. Yet perhaps not. Could it be another? Argothoth? Vashitva?]

[Madadeva]

Has Madness taken you Zephyr?

[Zephyr]

Says Madadeva.

But you know my thoughts. Saying them here, however, could influence things toward intentional misdirection. But if I am right, saying as much as I am may strengthen what is happening.

Or I'm foolishly dreaming. But no harm done if I am. And nothing ventured, nothing gained.

[O-gon-cho]

But you know my thoughts.

As do others now, as I promised you, son of my liege l-rd.

*bows*

[Zephyr]

The hall stood vast and unchanging, as it had been for centuries already. Deep in the heart of the city, unbeknownst to any of the mortals who lived above it, the vast domed chamber was filled with a low humming and a faint crackling. Thick pillars decorated with symbols now forgotten - a silver mace clenched in a fist and dripping blood, a quill of fire, a book encrusted with precious stones, a vampiric face engraved in a circle, a radiant heart, a cracked egg revealing a sinuous shape, a sphere of woven threads, a wicked dagger - supported the darkened dome, and in the whole chamber, there stood only a round table, decorated with the same symbols and many more even more obscure. Nine stood around the table, and the city above them was unaware of their presence. They had come through the usual ways and paths, some bringing good news, some bringing bad ones.

"So it is true," the Grim Lord said somberly. "He has turned."

"Aye," replied the Scrivener, sadly, "'twas not his fault, yet turn he did. I have sensed this, and ye know what this means."

The fleshless skull of the Night Wyrm rose on its sinuous neck. "The lines have been drawn," his hollow voice boomed, "even now the gods take sides. Some have... surprised me."

"Indeed," the Grim Lord agreed, "it remains to be seen whether their pledges of loyalty to one another, and their stated intentions will survive what is coming."

"Nevertheless, we have lost three of our number," the Hand of the Weave interjected quietly, "our power dwindles with each of us leaving, and yet I feel we shall be very much needed in the onslaught unleashed by the gods."

"Yes," the Lily in Winter agreed, "I remember very well what cataclysms accompany the wars of the gods. To most of them, mortals will be merely pawns, if and no one sheds tears when their pawns are taken from the board." She sighed. "Unless of course it means growing weaker oneself."

"There is a solution to the problem we face," the Champion Immortal announced. "Though we have lost some of our number, there are those who - like one uf us - were never granted the powers of a chosen one, yet were nonetheless bestowed great power by either the fickle fates, or the hand of their gods. Many died in the cataclysms of the Second Age, and others were lost during the Interdiction; some yet survive." He paused. "Though those who were dear to me perished in the millennia since."

The Lily in Winter placed her hand on the Champion's shoulder. "I am sorry, Jameak", she said, "We all know how much you loved her. Well all wish she had survived, yet you remember as well as we all do that the time before and after the Interdiction was a time of chaos. Her death saved others, and her sacrifice is remembered."

"It is remembered by us," the Champion Immortal said, sadly, "but I look outside and I see what the gods of today have wrought. The old legends from our Age are no longer heeded; the deaths of those such as Lirania is all but forgotten. And what did she die for? All that we strove to save and help is now crumbling because the gods have returned, and like the spoiled children they are, they have seen it fit to bring another apocalypse on Eiran." He looked at the Lily, eyes glistening with tears. "Tell me again that Lirania's death was not in vain, for I look upon the world today and I cannot help but think that my daughter died for nothing."

To this, the Lily had no answer. Jameak sighed. "What is coming, we cannot foresee and we cannot stop. Despite our best efforts, the gods will undo all that we attempt to do, no matter the sacrifice, no matter the price we pay. Lirania's death was for nothing, and all she did has been undone. Lirania died at the hands of a Herald to save this world, and bid me live for her, for our people - and now the Heralds return, and her death is made in vain too. Adomorn is gone, and what defenses do we have agaisnt the coming darkness? A handful of gods willing to help Eiran do not make up for a majority of gods who are too taken up by their petty squabbles to see what is happening." He shook his head. Of the old gods, who is left who remembers the World Breaker? O-gon-cho, still trapped by her terror? Simjen, unwilling to commit to the battle he already fought once? Moxinomal, who actually called the World Breaker? No," he said, "there is no hope for this world anymore."

"What is happening to you?" The Lady of the Weave asked. "Your strength has been unwavering all these centuries, and you have led us without doubts or fears; why are you so willing to accept defeat now, when our world needs us more than ever?"

Jameak looked at the Lady. "I see around me the same dooms we faced in the last Age, am I am reminded of those we have lost. I am reminded of our failures. My failure." He looked down, sighed, then shook his head. "I have had enough, and have I not sacrificed enough for Eiran? I will not continue to do so when those who should shepherd the world do all in their power to destroy it. I am not a Lord of Eiran - I am merely Jameak, and I am weary." And without listening to protestations, he walked away from the table, head bowed.

Silence hung around the table and the eight remaining participants. It was the Night Wyrm who broke it, fleshless skull rising on his sinuous neck. "This is all for nothing, then. Jameak is not the only one who has seen the gathering storm. Somewhere out there, one of the Oldest Powers is rising again. Argothoth is returning, and his darkness will envelop the world once more. Then we shall merely sit and watch while he and the World Breaker struggle for the honor of being the destroyer of Eiran." His sepulchral voice bore a tone of finality. "Against the likes of my old master and the World Breaker, we can do little. We are fractured, and we have lost our leader. I see no hope for any of us in the coming night."

"What is this you speak of?" The Grim Lord said, amazed. "Are you admitting defeat, too, Rothgarh? We need the power of all of us if we are to have any hope to help the people of Eiran!"

"No," the Night Wyrm disagreed, "I have remained with you all for so long because I believed I was the last one, and because I believed that together, we could help this world. But Jameak is right, the world is now beyond help. And if it is, then I wish to rejoin my kin before the end. They have risen now, returned to the world - whether they heard Argothoth's call or not is immaterial - and they call to me. Had we had any hope of staving off the inevitable... ah, but we do not." The massive skeletal body of the Night Wyrm retreated in the darkness, leaving behind its voice alone. "Do not seek me again."

"Ah," the Scrivener commented, "so the darkness prevails."

"There are some we might call upon," the Lily in Winter said sadly. "I have long since known that a ward of my erstwhile master was awakened seasons ago, and has since cast her lot with him who now claims my old master's dominion."

"No," the Scrivener replied, "She will be of little help. With the others gone, what can the seven of us accomplish?"

"What are you saying, Nalam?"

"I say this: our power is not sufficient to save Eiran. We do not suffice to destroy the World Breaker, prevent Argothoth's return, or nullify any of the disasters which are shattering our world. Better than that each of us goes his or her own way, to do what we can for the descendants of those who empowered us."

"But the Lords..." the Lily in Winter began. Nalam shook his head. "'twas a good concept, yet all things must come to an end. Jameak was our leader; without him, nothing can be done. Rothgarh will not help, and the Book calls for me."

"You cannot believe it is right to give up all we have accomplished!" The Grim Lord exclaimed.

"We give up nothing. But there are duties which we have neglected for far too long. I have remained with you for as long as I could, but now that it is clear there is neither the will nor the power to save Eiran among us, I must return to the Book, for the final pages need to be filled, as my Lady once did. Goodbye, old friends... may you find what you seek in the last moments of the world."



PostPosted: Thu Jun 10, 2010 9:48 am Post subject: Reply with quote Edit/Delete this post Delete this post View IP address of poster
The hall stood vast and unchanging, as it had been for centuries already. Deep in the heart of the city, unbeknownst to any of the mortals who lived above it, the vast domed chamber was filled with a low humming and a faint crackling. Thick pillars decorated with symbols now forgotten - a silver mace clenched in a fist and dripping blood, a quill of fire, a book encrusted with precious stones, a vampiric face engraved in a circle, a radiant heart, a cracked egg revealing a sinuous shape, a sphere of woven threads, a wicked dagger - supported the darkened dome, and in the whole chamber, there stood only a round table, decorated with the same symbols and many more even more obscure. Nine stood around the table, and the city above them was unaware of their presence. They had come through the usual ways and paths, some bringing good news, some bringing bad ones.

"So it is true," the Grim Lord said somberly. "He has turned."

"Aye," replied the Scrivener, sadly, "'twas not his fault, yet turn he did. I have sensed this, and ye know what this means."

The fleshless skull of the Night Wyrm rose on its sinuous neck. "The lines have been drawn," his hollow voice boomed, "even now the gods take sides. Some have... surprised me."

"Indeed," the Grim Lord agreed, "it remains to be seen whether their pledges of loyalty to one another, and their stated intentions will survive what is coming."

"Nevertheless, we have lost three of our number," the Hand of the Weave interjected quietly, "our power dwindles with each of us leaving, and yet I feel we shall be very much needed in the onslaught unleashed by the gods."

"Yes," the Lily in Winter agreed, "I remember very well what cataclysms accompany the wars of the gods. To most of them, mortals will be merely pawns, if and no one sheds tears when their pawns are taken from the board." She sighed. "Unless of course it means growing weaker oneself."

"There is a solution to the problem we face," the Champion Immortal announced. "Though we have lost some of our number, there are those who - like one uf us - were never granted the powers of a chosen one, yet were nonetheless bestowed great power by either the fickle fates, or the hand of their gods. Many died in the cataclysms of the Second Age, and others were lost during the Interdiction; some yet survive." He paused. "Though those who were dear to me perished in the millennia since."

The Lily in Winter placed her hand on the Champion's shoulder. "I am sorry, Jameak", she said, "We all know how much you loved her. Well all wish she had survived, yet you remember as well as we all do that the time before and after the Interdiction was a time of chaos. Her death saved others, and her sacrifice is remembered."

"It is remembered by us," the Champion Immortal said, sadly, "but I look outside and I see what the gods of today have wrought. The old legends from our Age are no longer heeded; the deaths of those such as Lirania is all but forgotten. And what did she die for? All that we strove to save and help is now crumbling because the gods have returned, and like the spoiled children they are, they have seen it fit to bring another apocalypse on Eiran." He looked at the Lily, eyes glistening with tears. "Tell me again that Lirania's death was not in vain, for I look upon the world today and I cannot help but think that my daughter died for nothing."

To this, the Lily had no answer. Jameak sighed. "What is coming, we cannot foresee and we cannot stop. Despite our best efforts, the gods will undo all that we attempt to do, no matter the sacrifice, no matter the price we pay. Lirania's death was for nothing, and all she did has been undone. Lirania died at the hands of a Herald to save this world, and bid me live for her, for our people - and now the Heralds return, and her death is made in vain too. Adomorn is gone, and what defenses do we have agaisnt the coming darkness? A handful of gods willing to help Eiran do not make up for a majority of gods who are too taken up by their petty squabbles to see what is happening." He shook his head. Of the old gods, who is left who remembers the World Breaker? O-gon-cho, still trapped by her terror? Simjen, unwilling to commit to the battle he already fought once? Moxinomal, who actually called the World Breaker? No," he said, "there is no hope for this world anymore."

"What is happening to you?" The Lady of the Weave asked. "Your strength has been unwavering all these centuries, and you have led us without doubts or fears; why are you so willing to accept defeat now, when our world needs us more than ever?"

Jameak looked at the Lady. "I see around me the same dooms we faced in the last Age, am I am reminded of those we have lost. I am reminded of our failures. My failure." He looked down, sighed, then shook his head. "I have had enough, and have I not sacrificed enough for Eiran? I will not continue to do so when those who should shepherd the world do all in their power to destroy it. I am not a Lord of Eiran - I am merely Jameak, and I am weary." And without listening to protestations, he walked away from the table, head bowed.

Silence hung around the table and the eight remaining participants. It was the Night Wyrm who broke it, fleshless skull rising on his sinuous neck. "This is all for nothing, then. Jameak is not the only one who has seen the gathering storm. Somewhere out there, one of the Oldest Powers is rising again. Argothoth is returning, and his darkness will envelop the world once more. Then we shall merely sit and watch while he and the World Breaker struggle for the honor of being the destroyer of Eiran." His sepulchral voice bore a tone of finality. "Against the likes of my old master and the World Breaker, we can do little. We are fractured, and we have lost our leader. I see no hope for any of us in the coming night."

"What is this you speak of?" The Grim Lord said, amazed. "Are you admitting defeat, too, Rothgarh? We need the power of all of us if we are to have any hope to help the people of Eiran!"

"No," the Night Wyrm disagreed, "I have remained with you all for so long because I believed I was the last one, and because I believed that together, we could help this world. But Jameak is right, the world is now beyond help. And if it is, then I wish to rejoin my kin before the end. They have risen now, returned to the world - whether they heard Argothoth's call or not is immaterial - and they call to me. Had we had any hope of staving off the inevitable... ah, but we do not." The massive skeletal body of the Night Wyrm retreated in the darkness, leaving behind its voice alone. "Do not seek me again."

"Ah," the Scrivener commented, "so the darkness prevails."

"There are some we might call upon," the Lily in Winter said sadly. "I have long since known that a ward of my erstwhile master was awakened seasons ago, and has since cast her lot with him who now claims my old master's dominion."

"No," the Scrivener replied, "She will be of little help. With the others gone, what can the seven of us accomplish?"

"What are you saying, Nalam?"

"I say this: our power is not sufficient to save Eiran. We do not suffice to destroy the World Breaker, prevent Argothoth's return, or nullify any of the disasters which are shattering our world. Better than that each of us goes his or her own way, to do what we can for the descendants of those who empowered us."

"But the Lords..." the Lily in Winter began. Nalam shook his head. "'twas a good concept, yet all things must come to an end. Jameak was our leader; without him, nothing can be done. Rothgarh will not help, and the Book calls for me."

"You cannot believe it is right to give up all we have accomplished!" The Grim Lord exclaimed.

"We give up nothing. But there are duties which we have neglected for far too long. I have remained with you for as long as I could, but now that it is clear there is neither the will nor the power to save Eiran among us, I must return to the Book, for the final pages need to be filled, as my Lady once did. Goodbye, old friends... may you find what you seek in the last moments of the world."

The remaining Lords stood as if petrified, watching all they had worked for disappear slowly into the night. They looked at each other, each of them wondering who would say the fateful words next. In the end, the Grim Lord spoke, his eyes fixed on the spot where Jameak had stood.

"There is nothing more to be said," he said somberly. "What else can we add to what Jameak, Rothgarh and Nalam have already mentioned?" He sighed. "In truth I am reminded of my own losses, and I share Jameak's plight." He looked at his remaining companions. "In truth, perhaps we have outlived our usefulness. This, the first great test of our commitment, has showed that we are flawed. That we are not what Eiran needs. The deaths of the Second Age weigh too heavily on our hearts. Jameak's Lirania has been gone for millennia, and yet he still mourns her. I mourn my own daughter. Rothgarh's dark heart revels at the thought of not being alone anymore. Nalam seeks solace in the work his erstwhile goddess performed, hoping to lose himself in it. And the rising of the World Breaker, the return of these powers of the Second Age... we cannot meet them. We carry with us too much death."

"So... is this the end?" Iris asked, incredulously. The Lord-General nodded slowly. "Perhaps it is only right that it ends like this. We were necessary as long as no gods existed, but now what can we do to stop the gods? The AllFather has given them responsibility for this world, and it is theirs to keep or betray. We as Lords cannot do more than what we have done. It is time, I think, to take separate paths. Let each of us do what our hearts tell us to. Let us remember the old dead, the sacrifices which have been for nothing, and choose - each of us - where we stand. Whether we fight, or flee, or wait for the end.

The Lords of Eiran are no more."

What can be made of this? From the very start... Who has turned?? This seems to be the very reason for this meeting. A thing of great importance. Does anyone know who is being discussed??

What sides have we taken? I have been very pleased, and more than a little surprised, that so many have joined together to attempt to save Eiran. It is true that some are silent, but I have not heard that any have taken the other side. (Not counting Mox, of course, since he attempted to end the world, and we don't yet know how well he succeeded.)

What three Lords of Eiran have been lost? I had no reason to expect to hear any such news, but it is something I'd like to know! Is one of the three the one who turned? Have all three turned? Or is something killing the Lords? They are so powerful I can't imagine what is killing them.

[O-gon-cho]

What can be made of this? From the very start... Who has turned?? This seems to be the very reason for this meeting. A thing of great importance. Does anyone know who is being discussed??

I only have a guess to this.

From the first we have heard of the L-rds of Eiran, we have heard there were nine. No mention originally of The Custodian was made known to most of us. This vision says there are nine around the table at the start, then, if I am seeing this vision correctly, three of them leave later.

We hear seven of the nine present speak or be addressed in this vision, other than The Custodian.

• the Grim Lord
  the Scrivener ~ Nalam
  the Night Wyrm ~ Rothgarh
  the Hand of the Weave
  the Lily in Winter ~ Allyria
  the Champion Immortal ~ Jameak
  the Walker in Chaos

Match these up with the nine we were told about at the start of the Age:

• the Grim Lord, Lord of the Living and the Just One
  the Scrivener, Lord of the Dwarrows and the Wise One
  the Shadow of Unbeing, Lord of the Dead, the Dark One ~ the Night Wyrm?
  Sparklingeyes, also dubbed Lady of the Fae and the Beautiful One ~ the Hand of the Weave?
  the Lily in Winter, the Kind One
  the Champion Immortal, the White Knight, the Lord of Humans, the Valiant One
  Lord of the Houka and the Unseen One ~ the Walker in Chaos?

If my guesses as to which are which are correct, that leaves the following unaccounted for, with two being unnamed at the meeting, unless The Custodian is counted among the nine present.

• Goldenwing, Lord of the Spirits and the Glorious One
  the Lord of Horrors, also called Lord of Yekiths and the Unfathomable One

We were also told of a tenth L-rd joining their ranks during this Age.

• The Lord of Fire

This last Lord has seen the return of his deity in recent seasons, unlike the rest. I do not know from what a Lord is turned, but if deciding to leave the Lords and return to the service of one's deity is what they mean, my guess would be the one they are discussing is the Lord of Fire, Simjen's former, and possibly now current, prophet.

What three Lords of Eiran have been lost? I had no reason to expect to hear any such news, but it is something I'd like to know! Is one of the three the one who turned? Have all three turned? Or is something killing the Lords? They are so powerful I can't imagine what is killing them.

Perhaps the Lord of Horrors and Goldenwing are the other two present. But that does not account for the two who have turned.

Of the rest of your questions, I know naught, though the Night Wyrm's words have gotten me thinking of my last contact with Argothoth prior to his shattering and how he looked at that time.

"No, I have remained with you all for so long because I believed I was the last one, and because I believed that together, we could help this world. But Jameak is right, the world is now beyond help. And if it is, then I wish to rejoin my kin before the end. They have risen now, returned to the world - whether they heard Argothoth's call or not is immaterial - and they call to me. Had we had any hope of staving off the inevitable... ah, but we do not." The massive skeletal body of the Night Wyrm retreated in the darkness, leaving behind its voice alone. "Do not seek me again."

The Ash Lich my followers battled in the previous seasons, and the ones which currently command the Midnight Armies are also triggering radical thoughts. Argothoth's appearance prior to his shattering, after his battle with Melirelle, was similar, on a gigantic scale. He was gifted in the arts of Necromancy...

I nearly dare not speak the heretical thoughts running across my mind.
But...

Is it possible Argothoth himself was a lich which somehow attained godhood back in the First Age? These shards searching for each other...would they be animated once a mortal host is found, because somewhere on Eiran is a soul of a God? Namely Argothoth's soul? Do we gods even have souls? Obviously our followers do, but what are we should deicide occur?

If I am not off on another crazy tangent, is there anyway such could be used to either prevent the animation of these shards, or to determine which version of Argothoth is striving to return?

[The Numen]

The Numen have taken it upon Ourselves to research many aspects of Undeath this season. Of those are included the exact locations of the various shards. Also are the differences between the undeath of the previous age and Our own undeath now. And finally We have researched into the source of the ash immunity, and possible ways to overcome or bypass it.

[Anaya]

I could have told you the source of the ash immunity had you asked.

[Zephyr]

Here is something to think about. The Champion Immortal said: "All that we strove to save and help is now crumbling because the gods have returned, and like the spoiled children they are, they have seen it fit to bring another apocalypse on Eiran."

Let us see if we can avoid unleashing an onslaught as we attempt to save Eiran, eh? All we have tried this season is along the lines of warding and gathering information. It may be that the the only way to deal with the Midnight Armies is war. And if O-gon-cho is unsuccessful, it may be the same with the denizens of the Abyss. And if the World Breaker's minions arrive? Still, we are trying to solve things without destruction.

[O-gon-cho]

I could have told you the source of the ash immunity had you asked.

As could I, Sister, thanks to the research you shared with me which led to the destruction of the first Ash Lich. But obviously, it is not my place to reveal such to others.

If The Numen will not ask it of you, I will do so.
Will you share with all everything you know of this ash?

*bows*

[Madadeva]

It seems that Desires leadership in sharing openly and QUICKLY is not shared across the pantheon. From such delays and hording we show ourselves unworthy to survive!

[The Numen]

The source of the immunity is less important than how to overcome it.

[Zephyr]

Madadeva is quite correct. We will likely prove ourselves unworthy of the worship we receive.

The source of the immunity is less important than how to overcome it.

Also correct. Could it simply be a matter of power? Use more power to overcome it than was used to bestow it?

[Anaya]

Oh, grow up Madadeva! I was not aware of the specifics of the Numen's investigations, and my knowledge of the Ash Lich was highly personal in nature. Thus, before I revealed who I once was in the Second Age, I dd not wish to share it.

Besides, the members of the Eclipse can hardly fault others for being secretive, which may be why they have not joined you in your follish prattling. Or perhaps they are simply more mature than desire and decadence.

My mother Norn, the Goddess of Magic in the Second Age, was born a mortal Fey woman in the First Age. To escape the First Shattering, she committed her spirit to the Weave, leaving her body to fall into dust as the Tower of Airfen collapsed around her. Not long after my birth during the Second Age, the prophet Trolin returned from a long hourney. He had discovered the ruins of the Tower of Airfen, and in them, Norn's mortal ashes.

Argothoth, before his fall, examined the ashes for my mother in exchange for a mighty relic of his, a book, lost in the First Age and rediscovered by her followers. He determined that the ashes were imbued with the might of Norn's magic, for even in life she was a powerful sorceress, and that but a pinch had the ability to prevent any magics cast from being countered, even by the Goddess of Magic herself.

It is my mother's mortal ashes that protected the Ash Lich, and likely empowers his armies. It is my mother's mortal ashes that provided, if not imunity, then great protection from magic, and possibly divine power as well. As far as we know. It is my mother's ashes, understood perhaps better by Argothoth than by Norn herslef, that are being used by his followers to wage war against Eiran.

I do not know how the power of the ashes may be overcome, but let us hope that the Numen's research proves fruitful.

[O-gon-cho]

*bows*

My sincere thanks for sharing, daughter of Norn.

[Zephyr]

Thank you, Anaya! An extraordinary tale! I surely never knew your mother's origin.

Tell me... The Sunset and Sunrise Oracles said this:

Break the chains or seal the Book,
Who shall mold the coming night?
A promise made is now fulfill'd,
Released is the darkness bright.

Do you think it possible that they refer to the book you speak of? I thought maybe it was the Second Age Hedra Iren's Book of Law, but haven't heard that its location is known, and didn't know what "sealing" it could do. Maybe Argothoth's book is more relevant at the moment?

[Madadeva]

Besides, the members of the Eclipse can hardly fault others for being secretive, which may be why they have not joined you in your follish prattling. Or perhaps they are simply more mature than desire and decadence.

Peace Anaya, I understand that your late return has you rattled. If you but study our deific conversations, you will see that my leadership did indeed incent Eclipse to reveal itself through its master. And that Zephyr has shared much with us since then voluntarily

Perhaps since you are more focused on fate, you see not what is in front of your eyes!!

Fear not, we still hold you in affection and will satisfy your desires should you wish! Until then, our thanks for your sharing!

*bows with a flourish!*

[Anaya]

Thank you, Anaya! An extraordinary tale! I surely never knew your mother's origin.

Tell me... The Sunset and Sunrise Oracles said this:

Break the chains or seal the Book,
Who shall mold the coming night?
A promise made is now fulfill'd,
Released is the darkness bright.

Do you think it possible that they refer to the book you speak of? I thought maybe it was the Second Age Hedra Iren's Book of Law, but haven't heard that its location is known, and didn't know what "sealing" it could do. Maybe Argothoth's book is more relevant at the moment?

It is highly possible I believe. The Book of the Undead, Argothoth's codex from the First Age, was discovered by followers of Vadhaka Chorah in the Second Age and delivered to my mother in exchange for a certain service. She later exchanged it with Argothoth in order to learn the secret of her mortal ashes.

I only wish I could tell you more.

[O-gon-cho]

Brethren, Zephyr shared with us a vision he had, and which I also shared so am assuming all others shared as well. In my contemplation of what this vision could possibly mean, another of the same meeting came to me. But it is changed! Even where Zephyr and I discussed aspects of this vision has changed! No longer does Rothgar speak of the coming of Argothoth and not knowing which Argothoth will return. No! He speaks of the dissolution of the L-rds of Eiran!!

Try to recall the original version of this vision, Brethren. It seems to no longer be accessible to me...