**a message arrives from Paws: Cero, as you may have heard the Shrine of Honesty has been desecrated by the evil being Baerron Jael. We are looking for anyone who follows the virtues to help. I ask that you look into the evil mage sect for any answers to what plagues the good folk of Sosaria. -Jupiter** I have heard word of this Baerron Jael but could not believe the words I was reading. I had to see first hand what he had done. As I set foot on the Shrine of Honesty I felt sick...How...Why would anyone, anything do this! Answers were needed and I was ready for the task, grabbing my gear I made for the evil mage hold in the dungeon of Shame. The mages of this covenant were not the tidiest of lunatics, and after I spotted the leader of this band I knew why. With such a mess it was hard to find any answers, but I did find strange stone faces resembling demons hung on the wall. Next was a stop in the dungeon of Fire. This covenant of mages were far more orderly then those of Shame. Their leader was dealt with accordingly but I fear I was only touching the surface of what was really happening. My next stop was to the dreaded Ice dungeon, where it is said these evil mages are accompanied by Ice fiends. Living with these creatures of the abyss and not being consumed must reveal something! There it was...a death vortex! It looked as if the mages were getting ready to summon something, having seen enough I fled to report my findings. I sent my report back to Jupiter of Paws, but was still wondering about some of my discoveries, there was one place I could look for answers. The Lycaeum in Moonglow, with all its books, must have some reference to this ancient sect of mages, and what exactly a death vortex could summon! I still look for answers...
*with his mind deep within the history of the multiverse a rider approaches* "Post for Cero!" Antos, my friend, when I thought I would never find another lead you send great information. The Xorinites, the ancient wisps themselves could have knowledge beyond what are in these books. These creatures of the multiverse must have some clue as to what the evil Baerron Jael is doing corrupting the shrines. I must figure out how to get in contact with these wonderful beings... *remembers a book he had just glanced over* Yes, it was not by chance that I stumbled over this book, I must learn how to talk to these creatures and see if they have an answer. *studies up on how to interact with wisps* Let's see how well my wisp accent is... ... But what does it all mean! With my brief conversation with a wisp an utter failure, I decided to seek a professional. WispFelt was empty...not a single wisp or one who can commune with these great creatures, something was amiss. At wits end I needed a break, so I headed to one of my favorite watering holes in the great City of Skara Brae, The Shattered Skull, to grab an ale. Having a refreshing mug of the frosty beverage I heard of another corruption...the Shrine of Compassion...I had to check it out for myself. Evil, pure evil...but it was not the corruption alone that left me unsettled...orcs. I have left these foul scum of creatures unchecked for too long, they have expanded their fortifications to encompass the shrine itself! Could they have done this on their own, or...it could not be....Is Baerron Jael seeking help from the orcs?! I had to check out the large encampment to the north to see if there was any activity. There, at the top of the fort...lanterns, with a strange glow about them...orcs don't use lanterns...WISPS! The orcs are capturing wisps inside the lanterns! Why, how, what would make them do such things! Baerron Jael must be behind this after all! I returned to WispFelt to light a candle in remembrance of the wisps that may never see freedom again. *upon lighting the candle a wisp appears* That was odd, something I will have to look deeper into. Evil, Corruption, Baerron Jael, Orcs, Wisps, Ninth Circle Magic...could they...no, not possible...Belok the orc god himself! The Shrine of Compassion needs to be purified before the orcs can gather such knowledge! Word must be spread that these evils be dealt with before it is too late!
Antos wandered through the Deep Forest in even deeper thought. The arrival of a sailor from Verity Isle had brought with it rumors from the Lycaeum that Cero had been poring over ancient arcane texts regarding vortices, and the old druid had sent a letter by post which had left since him curiously preoccupied with the subject of wisps. As he wandered, he began to mutter to himself. I'm sure by now that he, being a clever fellow, has found Talking to Wisps by that damn fool Yorick of Moonglow. Oy! If ever Blackthorn wasted gold, it was in the publication of that useless book! Of course the wisps can speak our language! They simply choose not to do so... usually, that is. They seem to have a problem with the use of pronouns as the concept of separation from one another and thus the need for any permanent form of name or personal identity is alien to them, though. Beings of our dimension are so tied up in ego that the concept of being a part of a group mind is an equally alien concept from a human perspective. At that moment, he happened upon a fly agaric mushroom growing in the shade of one of the sacred Yew trees. Mushrooms had long been a source for communing with nature in the druidic tradition, and it occurred to him that this one's proximity to an ancient Yew might make it especially potent. Convinced that this discovery was no coincidence, he carefully harvested it and ate it in three giant bites. Wincing at the musty aftertaste, he turned and began making his way back towards Empath Abbey before the onset of the symbiosis. Along the way, he continued to think aloud. Hmmm... To communicate with a wisp, it is necessary to think like a wisp and that is a challenge that most people are either unwilling to accept or unable to meet. But I seem to be missing something. Something obvious. Hopefully my little fungal friend will help to shed light on some understanding that I have lost along the way. My mind is old and weary with the weight of years... I know I have forgotten something vital, but it is dancing just beyond the edge of my fading memory. What is it? Wha... At that moment, a familiar sound of shimmering and crackling manifested itself and Antos grinned in delight as he saw a wisp hovering beneath the boughs of yet another ancient Yew. He approached it and Blessed it but the flickering light seemed indifferent to his benediction. He drew close enough to touch it just as the wind picked up and made a mournful whistling sound through the branches of the mighty Yew. Of course! Antos, you old fool! You have forgotten more than most will ever know and that lapse of memory is going to cost you dearly some day! I completely forgot about the Emps and the odd whistle that they used to communicate with the wisps! Ah, but I have not seen an Emp in generations, so I can hardly remember what the whistle sounded like. Now, how did it go again? For minutes that seemed like hours to his increasingly detached mind, Antos stood whistling dissonantly at the Wisp. The glimmering being hovered ever closer to the odd old man, but made no effort to communicate with him. Frustrated, Antos continued to whistle until a friendly bear approached and stared at him with a look of obvious curiosity. The comical expression on the bear's face made Antos forget his frustration and laugh for a moment before turning his attention back to the wisp. Well, friend, I suppose you don't feel especially talkative right now. On a whim, Antos reached out and extended an open hand towards the wisp and, to his great surprise, it flickered even brighter and he felt the familiar tingle of inter-dimensional vibrations before the wisp darted off behind the giant Yew frightening the bear back into the underbrush in the process. That was... unexpected. Not what I had hoped to achieve, but perhaps it shows some promise. Suddenly, Antos was overcome with a wave of nausea and was becoming lightheaded so he hastened his step towards the Abbey and the wine he knew he would find there. A quick bit of a fine vintage would steady his stomach and cleanse his pallet. As the Abbey grew more clear through the dense forest, the old wanderer was beginning to feel at times like he was growing to a giant size and yet was light as air. By the time he was at the vintner and had a bottle in hand, the mushroom was in full effect, so he slipped into the abbey, made himself more comfortable and stretched out on his favorite bed in the western wing of the abbey to await whatever revelation might come. What may have been a few hours or a few years later, Antos bolted from the bed, panting and covered in sweat. He was repeating the same phrase frantically to himself again and again. The prison is the key... the prison is the key... the prison is the key... Antos quickly dressed and hurried off to the harbor to commit his revelation to parchment before its import was lost to him. Arriving at the lighthouse, he rushed upstairs and scrawled the following words onto the first blank scroll he could find:
