It was ironic, to say the least. Back at home, the surname "Lorekeeper" simply meant "librarian's son". Now, people looked to him as a sage and a wizard. How bold and arrogant these travelers are, and how little they know of the choices they have made. Most decorate themselves in fanciful titles and shiny baubles. Almost enough to distract an onlooker from the lack of direction to it all. They revel in the dusty streets like overgrown children at play. Never mind the swirling gates, never mind the families lost. Never mind the dreams abandoned, never to be reclaimed.

[p]Azeraphel Lorekeeper wrote in the small book that the Lytelthorpe scribe had bound for him. He brushed a loose lock of his ice-white hair back over his ear, and loosened the straps a bit on his hand-crafted armoredillo coat. Subtle differences sometimes leapt at him; the ink in this place was a little runnier than it had been in Aluvia. And the quills a little fatter. He peered into the alien sky, and measured out his location again. Another ruin, abandoned. Disappointment was hard to deny; this was the seventh such ruin in the past ten days, and not a whit of writing, no symbols or riddles, not a single artifact to recover. If there was a clue here, he couldn't find it. He sat, resting his back upon a fallen pink marble column, and stared at the statue before him. The facial features were stark and angular, and the helmet that it seemed to wear was of a design he had come to recognize. Empyrean; elegant, simple, and beautiful. The Empyreans had called him here. They opened a door. You don't open a door without a reason. So why be so secretive? Maybe to weed out the unworthy.

[p]Azeraphel laughed softly, and took a swig from his wineskin. He felt quite weeded out.

[p]Many were content to try to "tame" this wilderness, not that such a feat could truly be done. Others explored, and sought riches and fame. Az and his friends were content to seek an answer, and if any riches or fame came to them on the way, they had solemnly sworn not to complain. The Lytelthorpe tavern was clean, which was probably it's greatest charm. The food was wretched, the drinks were watery, and the barkeep did nothing to liven the mood. But it was clean. And after a long day wading through swamps, to try to map out a few chunks of rock, clean is important. Soulitaire was busy with those aforementioned maps; and the young lady truly had a talent for them. As if the land itself told her what to draw. Her cunning eyes scanned over her work, and seemed to be looking to decipher the world's mystery by deciphering the world itself. Thisilis was chatting proudly about his latest adventures, carefully skipping over the parts where he ran screaming for his life. He was a Paladin, all right. Noble, charitable, and brave. Paving a path with his blade, so that others might follow, and bringing life back to those who had fallen. His confidence came from a belief in the gods, who watched over him and guided his blade, or so he often said. Azeraphel often wondered
if the gods of home even knew of this place, this Dereth. Radaz al-Azim was the last to arrive, and the wizened Gharun'dim man entered with a broad grin and a flourish of his cap. His accented voice contained a spark of joy which attracted the undivided attention of his fellows. "My honored friends. I have news." He unrolled a scroll upon the spotless oak table, and began his tale.

[p]"Rumors spoke of a ruin to the south. And so, we investigated, and found there to be an uninspiring pile of rocks." He paused, grinning with the smile of one who knows a secret or three. "But we did not go far enough south, my friends. I came across the residence of a Lady Folthid, who, it is said, built her wine cellar above an Empyrean catacomb. I got a fair amount of information out of her servant, and it sounds like there are things aplenty to be found beneath the earth. She tells of a dagger that rests down below; a dagger of Empyrean design and enchantment. You want answers, Az? The gods have shown us a path."

[p]No cheer went up from the table, but the news was hailed as the best lead they had found in weeks, even months. Soulitaire barely spoke; she was already hard at work plotting a course to the place Radaz described. Thisilis was pressing Radaz for more information about the resistance he encountered on the way to the site. In his mind, the warrior was already doing battle with them; planning his sword swings and his flashy retorts. Azeraphel simply sat, drank, and laughed with his comrades. Somewhere within, a thought was stirring. Not unlike a memory, it struggled to surface. Something about it was right... but at the same time wrong. He couldn't give words to it, and so he let it be for a time. They were all early to bed, so as to set out with the first morning light. Early to bed, but not so early to sleep.

[p]The four set out to the south at dawn. What once may have seemed a terrifying wilderness was now but a busy meadow. These four were not novices; they knew what to confront and what to avoid. Mostly, they avoided; nothing was gained by shedding blood at this time. The wasps were perhaps the most irritating as they ran along the ridgetops. They were fast, horribly fast, and they oft complimented their slashing stings with an elemental blast. When they reached the river, each was hurting from numerous tiny wounds. Still, these travelers had certainly seen poorer days. The river was slow, meandering along its long trail to the sea. They forded it with little difficulty, and it served to refresh them more than anything else.

[p]Cresting over another hill, they came across a small estate of Aluvian design, with a Lifestone in the front yard. Soulitaire scratched her head. "I'm not sure that that's a good sign, Az."

[p]"Sure it is. Lifestones are Empyrean magic... the fact that one's here sort of re-enforces the theory that this is a major Empyrean site." Azeraphel did not sound convincing.

[p]"Perhaps, sir," said Radaz, "you mean to say that the Lifestone here implies that we shall have need of it shortly?"

[p]"Ahaha... that is to say... well, yes. But enough talk of that! Let us introduce ourselves to the lady of the house." His companions were not uplifted.

[p]Lady Folthid greeted Radaz warmly. "I told you not to come back, and not only do you defy me, you bring your vagabond friends? Out, out, out! I have enough troubles as it is."

[p]"Yes, of course," replied Radaz, not bothered in the slightest, "but you see, your servant told me of your troubles, and I..."

[p]"This... is a fireplace poker." It seemed Lady Folthid did not think enough of his protestations to let him finish them. Lady Folthid walked over to her fireplace, picked up a poker, and held it aloft. "If you do not leave my home within the next minute, I will beat you soundly about the head with it, then shove it directly and precisely up your..."

[p]"Naturally, naturally." Now it was Radaz's turn to interrupt. "But you see, we are here to cleanse the evil that has taken up residence in your cellar. Capable adventurers, that's what we are." The party grinned in unison, trying to look at least a little bit endearing.

[p]Lady Folthid shook her head and groaned. "Alright. But I want to make sure you know exactly how foolish you're being for wanting to go in there. I built that cellar over what I took to be a cave. There was a passage that went deeper into the earth, and I sealed it off with a door. But not long after I did so, the cellar changed shape... the earth shifted, the walls parted, even the stone changed. A portal appeared, and now I can't even get down into the cellar myself... and I could sure use a bottle of my old nectar. If you do go down there, you won't get far because the door's still locked. So, getting back to my earlier point, please leave. Because I don't need anyone opening the door down there and freeing whatever might have caused all this."

[p]Thisilis rightly viewed this as an opportunity to be brave, bold, and gallant. "Noble lady, those before you are not inexperienced in the ways of evil-smitage. Nay, we are strong, capable and true. We can defeat almost any evil you can name. So please, allow us the key?"

[p]Lady Folthid was ready to do anything to get these people out of her house. "Alright. A wood golem. They're out in these woods sometimes, you know. Bring me a heart, so I can have a crafter make my nephew a staff, and I'll let you have a key."

[p]Thisilis was overjoyed. This sure sounded like a quest to him. It didn't take long to locate a golem, either. It was just minding its own business, and generally behaving like a pile of wood, which is to say, not behaving much at all. The battle was brief... the four launched an assault of arrows, spells, and a flashing blade thrown in for good measure. Thisilis ended up catching a force bolt in the shoulder, but he kept his complaints to a noble minimum. The four examined the pile of splintered and charred wood that was previously the golem. "Does anyone know what a golem heart looks like?", asked Soulitaire.

[p]"Ah... do they even have hearts?" asked Radaz, poking through the rubble.

[p]"Oh, look! It's... uh-oh." Thisilis held up two halves of what might appear to be, if you were really open to the idea, a wooden heart. "Maybe we can paste it back together?" A collective groan rose up from the party.

[p]"This may prove to be difficult," said Az, which everyone understood to mean, "Let's go in there anyway, and try to force the door."

[p]Portal travel is slightly disorienting, even after you've done it a thousand times. Even a quick hop to the cellar can leave you a bit dizzy, especially if you end up bumping your head on a wooden beam when you arrive, which Azeraphel did. Worse, however, was the fact that the wooden beam raised itself back up again, and got ready to take another swing.

[p]Azeraphel drew his Magic Nerfball, (which others rudely referred to as his Orb), and began casting, hoping that his friends would be there soon to help him with this second golem. He gave the most inspired battle cry he could manage, "Yeeeee!"

[p]A moment later, he heard Soulitaire shout, "Um, guys? The portal won't let me in." This was occasionally a problem; she hadn't the experience of her friends, and portals were picky about who they allowed to pass. The other two arrived just in time to see a slightly damaged golem swinging furiously at a more significantly damaged companion. Thisilis quickly pulled a wand from his belt, while Radaz launched bolts of fire, hoping to get the golem's attention. A moment later, Azeraphel was healed, the golem fell, and Soulitaire shouted again. "Guys? It's starting to rain..."

[p]A quick conference was held. Several points were brought to the table, or rather, the dank, smelly floor. First, that when one says "Jump on three", you jump ON three, as in "one-two-THREE", not "one-two-three-GO". And certainly not "one-two-three-ok-are-you-ready-hold-on-a-second-oh-never-mind-ok-let's-GO". Second, that Soulitaire can't get through the portal and that she's the only one that can pick locks. Third, that yes, we can still hear you screaming up there, just hold on for a second. The conference was brought to a sudden and appreciated halt when Thisilis asked, "Is this what the heart's supposed to look like?"

[p]It was an ugly thing. And very intact, which probably contributed to its ugliness. They all hopped back up through the portal, and presented it to Lady Folthid, who cringed twice; once for seeing the party again, and again because she had never really seen a golem heart before. "They make staves out of these? Ok, whatever. Guys, here's the key. And for what it's worth, I do wish you luck. Maybe you're serious about this whole thing after all." She handed them a small, rusted, greenish key that looked about as sturdy as a young warrior in the Direlands.

[p]Soulitaire decided to wait with Lady Folthid while the others went tromping around in the cellar. Turns out they had mutual interests in maps, cooking, and laughing at the follies of the male gender. The intrepid three that remained made their way back to the cellar, and sneaked past the additional wood golems that happened to be hanging about the cellar, and opened the locked door with the key they were given. They gave one another a meaningful nod, so as to communicate their willingness to allow someone else to go first.

[p]Thisilis did assume the fighter's role, and charged bravely forth, to find assorted Mosswarts. These weren't your ordinary pushover-variety Mosswart, either. These were a mean, nasty, break-your-arms variety of Mosswart. Green, scaly, slimy, and not pleasing to the nose. Not to mention well-armed. Battle was rarely spectacular. Often, it was a tedious process of exertion and pain which was bearable only due to the fact that there were three people in the party, and the monsters tended to appear one at a time. They trudged through the malodorous halls, briskly but cautiously. Deeper and deeper they delved, collecting no few odd trinkets along the way.

[p]"Az? What does it mean when a statue blinks?", asked Thisilis, not looking forward to the likely answer.

[p]"It means it's time to be heroic again." Azeraphel aimed the Nerfball with as much deadly accuracy as one can impart to a Nerfball, and the Limestone Golem charged. In a flurry of explosions, the ringing of swords and mail, and the sound of crushing stone, the battle ended as quickly as it began. All three of the travelers were wounded, and none were happy. They all looked to be about ready to turn around and head back, but none of them wanted to be the one to suggest it.

[p]So, with the irony lost on them, they continued deeper into the dangerous dungeon that they no longer wanted to be in, solely because they were afraid. They pulled a large wooden lever that they found on the floor, because, after all, that's what you're supposed to do with large wooden levers. Turns out it opened a door. The three maneuvered their way down another tunnel, nearing the room which had been opened up... and there were creatures stirring.

[p]Radaz squinted in the darkness for a few silent moments, then spoke. "There's two of them... one is a Shaman. But, inside, I see a large chest... I think this might just be it. And under that door over there... a purple glow. 'Tis a portal to the surface, I am sure. Our travels are at an end. Gods be with us."

[p]Azeraphel and Radaz began with a volley of spells, but the Shaman shrugged them off as if they were but pebbles tossed his way. The shaman replied with a pair of spells of his own. The first knocked Radaz to the ground with a wave of force. The second spell cut him neatly in half. Thisilis charged forth to engage the foes, and got entangled in melee with the Shaman's guard. Az renewed his volley of spells, and got for his troubles another bolt of force thrown his way. He dove out of the way, and kept casting. Thisilis was taking a series of tachi cuts, and was too busy trying to keep his head attached to help out the remaining caster. Eventually, the Shaman charged, which is probably the worst tactic you can use against someone who uses attacks that go in a straight line. Az launched a series of bolts of force and frost, which eventually brought his foe screeching and screaming to the ground. Thisilis managed to dispatch his opponent, but was near death, and bleeding profusely. For a moment, they each felt the shocked horror that tends to afflict those who see the mangled corpse of a good friend. Then, they each heard a
voice from the Lifestone, which served to ease their minds and remind them of the Empyrean magic which protected their souls from oblivion. "Ouch," said Radaz.

[p]Carefully, they approached the chest which the Mosswarts guarded, and lifted the lid with no small amount of trepidation. They had fought long and hard to reach this point, and they could only imagine what might lie within... the dagger? Perhaps a tome of knowledge? But no. The large box was empty, save for an old dusty bottle of nectar.

[p]The two remaining travelers stood, slack-jawed, in stunned silence. They looked out a passage from the room, and it headed down into an eerie green smoke-filled room that looked anything but inviting. Az and Thisilis looked at each other, picked up the bottle, and nodded. "Quest complete," said Thisilis. "We have bravely retrieved Lady Folthid's nectar. We are triumphant, and shall be hailed as heroes!"

[p]Azeraphel laughed. "Of course we will. Of course we will."

[p]The two headed back into the portal to the surface, and quickly rejoined their companions. Radaz was looking a little worse for wear; Soulitiare was quite pleased to see her other friends return in one piece. Even Lady Folthid almost looked a little relieved to see them again, and she quickly offered a reward for the nectar. The travelers looked over the assorted equipment they had looted on the way through, and all told, they had to consider it a success. Maybe not the success they were after, but a success of a sort.

[p]The four traveled back to Lytelthorpe for some much-needed rest. Azeraphel's thoughts were of what might have been deeper inside; he felt as if he had but scratched the surface... They would go back. Perhaps when they were a little mightier, a little better organized. Success or no, they did make progress... they did find a site, and they were on the path. That night, Azeraphel slept well; he didn't feel "weeded out" anymore. He would find answers, and he would understand what brought him to this world; this world that had need of a librarian's son.