A young elothean can be seen sitting at a well made desk, deep in thought and scribbling furiously. Inkpot at the ready and quill in hand, he pens his masterpiece with a fury still burning in his eyes...

The scene opens in the dark corners of a cave, somewhere deep in the depths of Therengia. Lit by the flickering flames of a single half-melted candle, the faces of a few haggard adventurers can be seen gazing downward into their empty hands..

Mazrian speaks: They've done it again.. beaten us to the punch.. taken everything we love and they taunt us with it.

Whiteburn hisses: Drogor has forsaken me, yet again. I pray and pray for guidance and all I ever receive are origami shark instructions.

Tirost whines: I've spent my ENTIRE LIFE looking for this circlet, ALL OF IT. They found it without much more than a half-hearted glance and the flick of a wrist. I'm tired of failing at every turn. Why do the gods forsake me so?

Mazrian says, with much hesitation in his voice: Maybe we can hire a Ranger to find them? I hear that at least THEY are worthwhile.. when they're not haphazardly walking in circles around the same four trees claiming to be blazing trails..

Whiteburn nods.

Tirost gazes down at his empty hands and says 'I sure know what its like to get lost and go in circles... but if thats what you think is best Mazrian, then I'll follow you off the cliff as always.'

Mazrian leaps to his feet, causing two of the unnamed adventurers to fly back into a heap, striking his head on the low ceiling of the cave. He rubs his massive skull, muttering under his breath 'This is the best Therengia had to offer? At least in Zoluren our caves have holes in the roof so the gods can throw their garbage down onto us as blessings.' Once settled, he walks out into the darkness.


Across Elanthia, a gathering of Patriots and Revolutionaries has been called in a gigantic mansion overlooking Shard, its opulence and grandeur in stark contrast with the cave from earlier. Through the massive portrait window into the library, a gathering of patricians can be seen making their way to the lounge areas.

Nefis proclaims: I, Nefis, have found the circlet. It is all that is right in our world. We shall overcome the worthlessness of the mortal coil by seeing it destroyed before the eyes of Him. We shall feed the great Entropy with its destruction.

Totenus nods solemnly and says: I agree with you Nefis, much good can be done for our world by severing their tenuous grasp on mortality. We shall feed the Hunger this day. Let us plan this great ritual and make all things in our Masters image whole once again.

Zehira stares into the eyes of each member at the table and says: We will please Him with our works, and we will provide them with one less tool with which to strike at us. My knowledge is His knowledge and through our work here, the price that we have agreed to pay will not be forgotten.


The scene fades to a massive gathering outside the great Temple of Zoluren..

Tirost, standing atop a massive crate so that all can see him, waves his arms wildly in an attempt to quiet the crowd.
He whines: Okay folks, I know there are four-hundred of us, but I'm not sure we've got the strength that we need. Our scouts say there might be ten people in that cave and they're known to be the most formidable warriors and magicians of our time. If you all could please use your gwethdesuan thoughts to call every able-bodied, or not-so-able-bodied, fighter in the realms to our aid then I think we might stand a chance!'

Mazrian wobbles to the crate, still rubbing his head from the bump weeks ago, and says: I've found them with my magics, and I'm comfortable with saying that I think that if we all cast every spell we know as soon as we see them, we can potentially strike at least one of them hard enough to cause bruising. Once you have all prayed to your gods and prepared your magics, please make your way to our group gathering so that we can discuss the tactics we'll use during the fight.'

Whiteburn, obviously shaken from the lack of Drogor offerings presented during the prayers, is currently rocking to-and-fro while clutching a stuffed shark to her chest. After some time has passed, she rises to her feet with the shark held high in the air, and screams 'For Damaris!'

The crowd, visibly confused and audibly concerned, all turn to see the once great Inquisitor staring up at a stuffed animal. One passing commoner leans over her shoulder and quietly says 'Drogor...'. Whiteburn screams 'For Drogor!' and then without skipping a beat, unleashes a spell at the poor man who was just trying to help. Chaos ensues, corpses are seen strewn haphazardly about the temple area, and the guards are called to drag Whiteburn away for yet another senseless murder.

Meanwhile, many hours and hours travel from the Temple gates, the Patriots have gathered again this time in a cave not unlike the Therengian meeting place. This cave, however, has a massive stone altar in the center of the room and ceilings tall enough to fit two snowbeasts head-to-toe. Apparently Zoluren caves are much more accommodating than Therengian caves. Around the room are serious faces, all standing proud and ready for whatever may come, intently gazing upon the happenings at the altar.

Nefis intones: Hear us. Listen to the words that we speak and the offerings that we present. Provide us with the Entropy we work towards!

Totenus chants inaudibly while leading a frail human woman towards the altar.

Zehira stands ready, orbs in hand, staring into the dark cave opening with fire and rage in her eyes.

Across the world, a small band of eight-hundred adventurers have started their trek to the confrontation. A few roisaen later, the horde is standing outside the cave, torches, pitchforks, soup ladles and leather boots at the ready. A frail old man can be seen standing at the front of the troop. He yells 'Give them everything you've got. Target Zehira, Totenus, and Nefis with all of your might and maybe just maybe we'll do enough damage to slow them down a bit. You undesireables and unnamed peasants, you'll be the first wave, the rest of us will run in once you've been obliterated so that we can feel good about what we've done without actually hurting ourselves! For the Gods!' He raises his staff ever so slightly above his waist and yells 'Charge!' and begins to hobble towards the cave.Just then a great light erupts from the cave and the stage goes dark...

A somber voice chants from off-stage: 'The world doesnt know the fate of this magical jewelry any more than you think you do. Remember that every story has three sides.. The Right side, The Wrong side, and the Side that Mazrian is on. Do try to think for yourselves and never assume that what you've been told or lead to believe is the whole view of the world. There is much more to be seen and learned than you've probably been made aware of.'