In 1280, twenty years before my noisy enlightenment occurred in the Great Library, DOM had launched itself in a bold new enterprise: it became a colonial power.  As far back as 1260 seafarers from the coast of Blaad (Old Gastor province) had made it past the destructive and dreaded weather and currents of the Great Northern Flux and had reported seeing land to the northeast.  With Porthan advances in ship-making such journeys were more frequently made.

The first official DOM colony of the new land that eventually became known as Uranta was made by Elian Gandus.  And despite much criticism, named the colony "New Portha."  Gandus was not the first nation to claim a portion of Uranta.  Moritania had occupied it's northeastern end for at least twenty years beforehand.  And more recently, the nation of Traisge had also established a colony on the southern end of the continent.  There was also a native population there that probably emigrated from Tixtlan during the Glacial Epoch. 

The colony proved a costly endeavor, as violence between colonists, natives and the other colonial powers was ongoing.  Moritania felt they had claimed the entire continent and were therefore particularly troublesome. 

The days of the Traisgan Empire were waning.  They had lost control of Meildon, Femer and Predische to the south of Traisge, and so the Traisgan Emperor looked to the north.  He began to seek trade with the islands and countries of the Marepise using ships.  Naturally a port in the north would be advantageous to this end, especially with the thought of mining and returning the untold riches of the new world to the mother country.

The King of DOM however, did not see the advantages of a colony on Uranta.  He was not a seafaring man, and believed that trade over the seas between the nations of the Marepise would be a failure.  This short-sighted decision would later prove a disaster.  The King repeatedly ignored Portha's requests for increased aid for the colony.  By the time the darkness appeared, Portha was the colony's sole supporter.  By the time our party returned to DOM from the Great Library at Reva to report our findings, The Porthan colony was under siege and not expected to survive.  The colony lasted twenty years until it's death in the autumn of 1300.

Next: The Colonies of Uranta

The experience is hard to describe in writing.  Had you skill in Vibroturgy, you would better glean my witness from this page, but only this page.  No copy would do.  Not because of any grand power I have, but because my emotion is left like an ink on this parchment.  Fleeting glimpses and vague communal understanding recorded.  I know what it looked like.  Sitting before a tree and staring at it.  I have spent too much time among humans not to appreciate the humor in the situation.  But my nervous self consciousness gave way very quickly to awe, and then to silent immersion.  It is oddly like the Shamanic Journey, but with a warmth and a sense of understandable chronology missing from the journey into the pink mist.  Like I was meeting an old wise friend for a listen and a long walk.  I posed questions as they came to me, and they were answered not in words, but in brief emotional feelings that allowed me to imagine the situations they pertained to.  It was Vibroturgy that was open-ended and seemingly endless, but also comforting and warm.  I knew that the tree liked me, and was as happy to see me as if an old and lonely relative.  I also quickly realized that Hamell could not predict the future.  He was simply a living entity that had been around long enough to know a thing or two about the past and present.  I also discovered that one needed to have a bit of historical knowledge to place his answers in context.  I lacked that information at the time.  In fact, I did not put his answers into perspective until a week after my visit to Hamell, when I visited the Great Library at Reva.  It was in the halls of that institution that my audible shouts of final understanding disturbed the pilgrims there. 

I had wanted to know the nature of the darkness, how it began, where it was going, why Hamellile was protected and how it could be defeated.  In answer to my initial barrage of questions, I felt a wave of emotion that nearly floored me.  An incredible shame that quickly gave way to resolution.  I discovered this to be the trapped emotion of the Raylan Domination, when we Raylan sought to dominate the other races for their own protection for a time, then discovered that we were the ones that they needed protection from.  The resolution was the Elemental Pact.  A resolve that produced the Staff of the Elements.  A fabled construct that incorporated the four elements and that was to keep the elemental faiths on an equal footing and to keep deities and other entities from being summoned into this plane of existence.  I knew then why Hamellile had been protected, it was the birthplace of the Elemental Pact.  So, either the elements were out of balance, or something had been summoned.  This led me to recall another emotional gift given to me by Hamell, the greed of men.  Or rather a man.  A greed for power, then a sudden and great humility.  The man had stepped beyond his reach.  Someone else had taken his power and now he was the least powerful of men.  Finally, Hamell had shown me his fear; of a presence released from bondage in a prison.  "I know what it is!" I shouted to the faces of the scholars now facing me in the Library.  "The prison is Zenabesh!  The ancient catacombs of the Great Age of Magic have been opened and an entity has not only been released, but is unconfined and is now here seeking to destroy the Elemental Pact."  My joy of discovery was short-lived however, when I recalled Hamell's fear: without the Elemental Staff, the Pact would lose, and in fact IS losing that fight…

Next: An Exotic Digression

The four of us headed toward Giorda.  We rode horses acquired in Baritor.  Mine was "Windrider" and was darker brown than the others.  She also started out the least accommodating.  I am not much of a horseman, but Animal Empathy revealed that she had been the second mare in her old stable, and now in this new herd she desired the lead.  This proved difficult as Karsh had established the human (and horse) hierarchy.  I convinced both animals invlived that Karsh was leading at my request, and that Windrider was in fact the lead.  A minor amount of nudging between the two confirmed this, and except for their ongoing brittleness at the continual darkness, we were all fine.  By now you may think me mad - this was done without words - Animal Telempathy and mild Suggestion are wonderful things.  I never bothered telling the others about this insignificant tussle, it's the kind of thing they would roll their eyes at.

We rode along the shore of the Dorcer Sea from Baritor to Giorda.  We headed straight for the Dorcer Tavern "to get the lay of the land" explained Karsh and Forcellus, but I suspect that the ale and other delights there were the way the land lie. 

That I was suspect became quickly evident.  The inn would not dare refuse me service.  I was not only famous, but in the company of the Prince.  But I could tell that they distrusted me.  This was the closest large town to Hamellile.  Their reason for their emnity was made clear on the following afternoon when after riding through the small human village of Buhween and into Rayla, the cloud cover began to lift.  By the time we were spotted by Raylan sentries near the sacred grove, we felt the sun on our backs.  Something was protecting the grove from the darkness and I needed to know what it was.

The Rayla construct their homes in the forest canopy of Raylan trees.  They use the structure of the tree to form the support for their dwellings, they do not hammer into the trees, which they regard as sacred protectors.  They are not as kindly toward other tree species, however, and fell some for construction.  Communal in nature, each dwelling is connected to form a village in the trees.  Hamellile is a great circle of a city that surrounds an especially sacred grove of unmolested Raylan trees.  At the exact center of this grove is the eldest Raylan tree, Hamell.  It is to this tree that Raylan pilgrims journey for communion, and it to this tree that I come for answers.  I am certain that the others, (save for the ever-curious Veltek), thought this something that needed to be crossed off the list to placate me.  That the answer to the protection riddle must lie with some charm or magic.  They viewed with skepticism that a tree could hold any form of answer.  And truth be told, after so much time spent with humans, I doubted it myself.  Still, I soon found myself standing in front of the great and silent Hamell.  Next to me were my three compatriots, a few unknown pilgrims, and Naralle, the Raylan "Lilla", or "grove tender" of Hamell and his grove.  Naralle had revealed worriedly that Hamell had been sleeping lately.  This is of great concern to the Rayla, as the tree falling into slumber had not occurred since Raylan fought against Raylan over 9,000 years ago when Dunall went to war against Kalaiis of Dramellile.  "This sleep" Naralle went on to reveal "has only lasted a few seconds."  I shot Forcellus a caustic gaze after he mumbled "looks asleep now."  I later explained to my compatriots that the tree does not actually "talk".  They seemed relieved at that.  "I am an Empath" I said, stating the obvious.  "Empathy is a Raylan skill, and I use that skill to communicate with the tree."

Next: Hamell

We were given a room in the palace.  We were invited to share our experience with the King, but we ourselves did not yet fully understand the deeply personal journey we had undertaken, we declined until the following day.  In the meantime, we decided to share with each other what had happened.

Forcellus was first to blurt out that it was the worst experience of his life.  That it was a horrible nightmare full of vicious dogs and enemies tearing at his flesh.  Karsh's experience was similar, reporting that he had been sucked into a pit full of roots and vermin that he desperately tried to crawl out of and finally succeeded.

Veltek then told us that he found himself unable to stop asking multiple questions in his head.  He could not narrow it down.  An hour after I had entered my trance, he finally managed to still his thoughts, but he simply could not concentrate on the pit.  He said that by that time Forcellus and Karsh were raving and that I was swooning.  He said that he looked at the Shaman at that point and received a face full of powder from him.  He went right into the pit after that.  In answer to my question he said he met with few roots, and no vermin.  He simply slid into a pink mist.  "I saw faces there" he said.  "What was your question?" I asked him.  "I wanted to know the nature of the darkness" He said.  I assumed that his vision after he got past the mist would be similar to mine, given that our questions were so similar, but I was wrong.  The "cause" was my request, the "nature" was his, and so his result was markedly different.  He continued; "after the mist, I found myself lying in my bed.  It was a warm summer night, and the coverlet was down.  But suddenly, it grew cold.  I pulled up the coverlet.  I pulled it up too far at first, for it covered my face.  I then pushed it down a little.  As I lie there, it worked it's way up again, and again I pushed it down.  Almost immediately it came up again, but this time, I could not for the life of me pull it down.  I decided to get out of bed, but found that my legs could not move.  I knew that the coverlet was gripping them.  That this quilted bed covering had somehow come to life and was trying to keep me on the bed, and keep me covered.  But it did not stop there.  Soon I was battling it for my very breath, and ultimately, I lost."  He looked at us in fear.  We suppressed our laughter in the face of his obvious trauma in the wake of a coverlet attack. 

I then recounted my tale of human children and colored eggs.  No one took me seriously.

We decided that the overarching take away from our experience was that the darkness was not caused by natural means, and that it was somehow malevolent in nature.  I am not opposed to more such journeys, despite the mad nature of the experience, I felt it worthwhile.  It is said that Esam, who hailed from Baritor, used to be a master of such Shamanic exploration.  I am sure that I can discover more about the darkness, and more about life in general. 

Before leaving, I accepted Duke Ezak's gift of a small skin drum.

Next: The Raylan Grove

I did not realize it at the time, but Kanan had been right.  We did not need a fire to warm the room.  I felt nothing of my body at all, and yet it soon would prove an impediment.  I had assumed that I would be propelled into another world, that I would be clutching onto reality and onto my own life.  But the opposite was true.  I had to work to stay in this dream. I had to focus fixedly on my question and think of nothing else.  If my mind wandered even for a second, I would begin to feel the cold and recede backwards.  I was determined not to let that happen.  I could see the freprimanding aces of the Grand Dukes, but guilt began to draw me back and I had to let it go.  My Empathics became a problem.  I tried to sense my way forward, and again I fell back.  I must only concentrate on my question; what was the cause of the darkness.

The tunnel seemed endless.  And it seemed to be getting smaller and more difficult.  There were roots growing into it now.  It took a long time for me to realize that by focusing on the tunnel, it was preventing movement.  My physical body was my safety net.  I realized that I wanted a hard physical journey that I would fail, the attempt absolving me from blame.
I  then discovered that I had a degree more courage than I suspected and that I could carry on despite my fear.   I also discovered that I really wanted the answers, not just absolution.  At that moment of revelation the tunnel simply vanished and I found myself floating in a deep pinkish cloud.  In this opaque mist disturbing images appeared to me.  Faces, mainly.  Faces from the past, faces from dreams.  I saw Jastral Fane staring at me in anger.  I saw my mother.  I saw Lythe Petros on his deathbed.  These images were so real that they wrenched my heart, and it was almost too late before I realized that they too were preventing me from walking my path.  I closed my eyes and banished them.  I though only of the darkness.  I had banished everything else.

I did not open my eyes, as far as I can recall, but I was still able to see.  I found myself standing in a wide field of short grass on a summer's day.  There was a small dwelling ahead.  I was moving towards it.  It looked well appointed with a new thatch roof and freshly white washed.  But as I got close, I realized that there was rot everywhere.  It was hidden, but I knew the hut was a plague house.  I suddenly stopped.  I had to will myself to stay.  Suddenly a child burst out of the house and ran past, then around me. The child was holding a bird's nest.  Angry shouts sounded from the house, though I saw no one, and no one came out.  I knew that the shouts were recriminations for the child.  No one in the dream paid me the least attention.  The boy stopped near me and stared into the nest.  I could just make out that there were colored eggs.  I became aware that other children had appeared in the distance.  They began running toward the boy with the nest, who paid no attention to them.  When they arrived they began a fight for the nest, each grabbing it.  A golden egg dropped out and one boy snatched it and ran off. Other eggs flew into the air, some were caught and quickly stolen away, others landed on the ground and were ignored.  The boy ended up with an empty nest.  But then he looked right at me, or rather through me.  And then he opened his closed hand to reveal a cracked egg oozing a black liquid.  Then everything went suddenly black.

I awoke.  I was sitting on the straw mat in the dark room.  Kanan was gone, the drummer was gone.  Forcellus and Karsh were sleeping and Veltek was staring fixedly at me with a look of horror on his face.

Next: Visions Shared

Duke Ezak Baritor entered the room with a flourish.  He was a tall man with the complexion of his ancient Zorbeshi forebears.  "Welcome great lords, you do us honor" he said.  We exchanged some pleasantries but the gravity of the situation brought us to business quickly.  He brought in "Kanan" his Shaman.  A feeble man who talked very slowly,   He was either doddering or carefully wise, I hoped the latter.  Kanan described his visions carefully, but in the end managed only to confuse us with vague references to dark shapes and malevolent entities.  He graciously allowed me to perform a Mind Meld, which revealed even less.  He finally mentioned that the only real way for us to see what he had seen, was to see and interpret it for ourselves.  "You must enter into the world of the spirits and pluck your own answer" he said.  We all looked at each other, then at him.  "Where is this entrance?" I asked.  I thought he meant the Great Tree in Hamellile.  "It is here, it is everywhere, you simply have to enter" he answered. 

And so, we agreed to try something new.  Kanan brought us to his lodgings.  A simple stone building at the top of a small treeless hill.  "I thought you said that this could be done anywhere" muttered Forcellus suspiciously.  "It can" he said.  "But not by you.  At least not yet.  You will need help."  One other man marched up the hill with us.  He seemed to be Kanan's accomplice for although the two men spoke not a word to each other, they seemed to know what they were to do.  We became nervous as if this were a well-rehearsed dance that we were to witness and somehow participate in.  Veltec, as always, was eager and curious.  He peppered the Shaman with questions, all of which were waved off with "You will see."  Karsh and Forcellus looked uneasy and carefully looked around for signs of hidden danger.

The interior of the building was dark.  Neither of our hosts made a move to light a lamp.  There were no windows, only one small opening in the center of the ceiling.  The cloud cover permitted no sunlight and we could barely see each other.  Kanan gestured for us to sit on low straw-stuffed mats surrounding a very small fire pit that was directly below the hole in the ceiling.  We all sat dutifully.  It was cold and we took turns shuddering, Forcellus finally offered to make a fire.  Kanan looked at him and said "we will not need it." Obviously we were not here to enjoy ourselves.  The fire pit was ridiculously small for a fire anyway and there was no evidence that any fire had ever been placed in it.  I became aware that Kanan's accomplice was rhythmically tapping on a skin drum.  I did not remember him starting.  I stared at the fire pit.  Probably because Kanan was also staring at it.  Soon we all were.  What happened next was a blur.  Long afterwards I was told by Forcellus that Kanan had spoken to us.  I did not remember it.  He had told us that we needed to formulate a single question.  That the spirits would answer this question if it was worthy, but in an allegorical way that we would need to interpret.  We could not ask a mundane question, but only a great spiritual question.  And we could not derivate from that question.  "Like a narrow path that you must walk with will and purpose."  Forcellus also told me later that he and Karsh had announced that it was all nonsense and that they could not find an entrance, and certainly not in the firepit that Kanan has instructed them to stare into.  And so Kanan had flung a black powder at them and Forcellus said "he remembered nothing after that".  But I missed all that.  I was already walking down a dark tunnel, intending to uncover the darkness.

Next: A Dark Vision

The King's Council met on midsummer's eve to determine the extent and improbable answer to the never-ending darkness.  At the council were myself (Tirian),  Kinkg Lythe Petros II, Karsh Petros, Victor Moresby-Malpedi, his son Veltek Morseby-Malpedi, and Forcellus Blaad (not the same man that marched in DOM Triplo obviously, but the great grandson of Garthon [Blade] Blaad.  Also present were representatives from the provinces of Castan, Fane, Bonilan, and Fortan.  Portha declined to attend.  We also had one representative each from Grimdon and Rayla.

The Council lasted three days and produced three results.  First, the geographic extent of the problem was identified.  Second, it was determined that the phenomenon avoided the non-human lands.  And third, that it was getting worse.  As far as solutions, none were offered.  No one could identify the nature of the problem let alone a cure.  I could sense the unspoken; that non-humans were protected and therefore responsible.  The lack of solution on my part was generally interpreted as a lack of desire to solve a purely human problem.  To counter this, I pledged to discover the source.  This was a foolish promise for I had not a clue, but I had to give them something. 

I gathered a small team to seek… something.  Myself, Karsh Petros, Veltek Morseby-Malpedi, and Forcellus Blaad consituted the team.  Prince Karsh would insure that we would be well met in the halls of the provinces.  He is a resourceful and energetic man, not unlike his great grandfather.  Forcellus' sword skill would keep us safe.  He reminded me of both Garthon and his namesake, the Forcellus of so long ago. Veltek offered an intense curiosity which I found invigorating.  He is an Energeticist and along with my Empathics we will hopefully come to an understanding of this great malaise.

Where to start?  We discussed this at length.  In the end we agreed to head first toward the Raylan Grove of Hamellil at the southern end of the Raylan lands.  If I could just empathically contact the Great Tree there, I might be able to get an inkling.  We would journey by way of Baritor where the "Water Shamen" were an intuitive resource.  Other intended stops would be Grimdon and the Great Library at Reva.  A serious task, but I must admit that it was good to be on the road again, and with a familiar group, despite the fact that I was over a century older than any of them.

There would be no dawn to send us off.  We sailed north in unseasonably cool temperatures and landed in Baritor.  We would acquire horses there to journey to Rayla.  But first, we would seek out the Water Shamen.  These men are said to go into a trance and explore the unseen worlds.  I always wanted to go with them, now I had a reason to compel me to action.

Arriving at the city of Baritor, we were greeted by Duke Ezak's men.  We were ushered into the great hall.  We were left there in the semi-darkness for a while while Duke Ezak attended to various tasks.  I took the opportunity to cast an Environment Empathy on the hall. It felt of pride and confidence.  I felt the Empathic intention that we be left there to ogle his tapestries.  Not because they declared his opulence, which they did not as they were simply done, but because of their subject matter.  The woven scenes depicted Baritor history.  I must admit that it was not often that I left the capitol.  I had not visited Baritor since the DOM Triplo march, and then only in passing.  These scenes of Barit men mingling with the Sahag in friendship and spiritual communion were meant to tell us "we are our own people."  I suddenly knew that we were on our own great Shamanic Journey of discovery.

Next: An Indigenous Intoxicant

The known geographic extent of the Great Malaise of 1300 as determined by the Council of King Lythe Petros II.

In my eagerness to get to the description of our own adventure, I will regrettably make quick business of Quarak's great endeavor to raid the lost city.  That it was arduous would be to express it lightly.  Zenabesh was one of the most heavily guarded fortresses of the ancient age.  It housed many of the treasures of the Great Age of Magic.  But by 1250, the fortress and the treasures it held were long forgotten by all but the most learned.  Even the location, deep in the Porthan Mountains was rumored, but not generally known. 

Quarak and his band of accomplices numbered approximately fifty by time he entered the Kundun Pass which leads to Zenabesh.  Unfortunately for him, his quest did not remain a secret despite (or because of) his attempt at keeping it so.  He was simply too vainglorious not to divulge his interests "in secret" to those that he knew would be duly impressed.  And so, the only real secret was that he alone thought his quest remained a secret.  Shadow bands of the nomadic tribes of the Khaniz barrens (the Poona Khanize) trailed Quarac's band in hopes of also finding riches in the form of ancient golden chalices and whatever else they might have imagined was contained in the lost city of Zenabesh. 

Qurarac's expedition also caught the interest of the Jasou, who were banned from Zenabesh several millennia ago with wards and curses.  They longed for a return of the Alak-ans, and should Quarak make a misstep, they wanted to be there to reap the purloined harvest.  They sent a secret band of Kineticists to the Porthan mountains to hide out and be ready for any easy pickings.

I will reveal the ultimate fate of Quarac's expedition in due time, as it was revealed to me.  But I will say this, the break did occur, the Alak-ans was sprung, as well as the entire horde of Zenabeshi treasure.  So much has happened since that fateful occurrence that I shall be writing until my last day.  And you, dear reader, will simply have to wait until I reveal it all.  It's one of the few powers that I have left.

Fifty years after Quarak unleashed the old age on the new, there was still no evidence of any effect in our world.  We knew nothing about it.  The first inkling we had that something was wrong was early in 1300.  Although we certainly did not attribute it at the time to any robbery occuring a world away.  Lythe Petros II was King of DOM, and his son Karsh celebrated his twentieth birthday.  The winter had been long, and we eagerly awaited the first warm days of the spring season.  But it never came.  We lost sight of the sun at the midwinter Festival of Lights, and did not see it again.  Not throughout the rest of the winter, and not at any point in the spring.  By summer, no crops would grow beyond the sprout.  A deep malaise took hold of the people, and I, naturally was sought for answers that I could not yet give.  My search for these answers would take me on the greatest and strangest journey of my life.

Next: The Shamanic Journey

As I sit here I can hear a clock ticking.  The measured clicks are oddly comforting as I write down these events that occurred nearly three hundred years ago.  And yes, I was most definitely there.  Though it seems a dream now.  You have by now guessed that I am a Raylan, assuming that you have not already read my name as Tirian and are a citizen of the north, in which case I will overstep modesty and say that you did not have to guess.  The world has changed much in 300 years, and as I reach the end of my days it is time that I empty some of my catalog of shelved facts. 

Back to the clock.  What a comfort it would have been to accurately know the time.  Sometimes it makes all the difference in the world.  I grew up hating measured time as did all Rayla, but now I cannot live without that friendly ticking.

No, I am not the Man of Ambition.  I only ever wanted to make the world safe for my kind.  Or any kind.  I suppose that is an ambition, but not the wild burning kind that I describe here.  Enough.  I will begin. 

Quarak, was born (and I am guessing here) about some fifty years before our great adventure began.  This would be about 1250 using the Traisgan calendar.  He grew up in Deniz Zorbesh far to the south.  He was the son of a Caliph, but was much more interested in the practice of Necromancy than he was in the politics of running a Caliphate.  He ran off with an attractive female Ezmeri Had (Energeticist) against his father's wishes.  (Well, she was Ezmeri, and that was reason enough).  He was ambitious and hungry, and his love, Alaika, was his match.  Neither wanted the menial power of a Caliphate however.  They had bigger interests.  They were both very learned, and traveled extensively.  They spend time in Jousouk at one point, and found a third interested and needy compatriot, Jakanal, a Jasou kineticist.  And what was their ambitious and learned plan?  Theft.  Not small-scale theft.  A theft that would change the world forever.  Though not in any way that they could have imagined at the time.

Money was not an object.  Quarak's father Caliph Benata-Bin-Halal all but disowned his son, but continued to allow him to draw on his accounts.  Alaika had no parents living.  She grew up in a Haddat learning her arts.  But she had similarly been disowned by her mentors for associating with a Zorbeshi Necromancer.  Jakanal's parentage is unknown to me, or anyone as far as I can tell.  He wanted adventure, and I assume he just walked off one day with these two.

In that day and age, there was really only one really great treasure to steal.  Especially for those that knew their history and were familiar with ancient magical power.  They set their sights on that great objective.  They gathered a small army with Quarak's father's money and proceeded north.  From Jousouk to Deniz.  From Deniz across the Maresur to Khaniz-beth.  Then north to Zenabesh.  They sought the deeply sequestered, ancient power of a giant cut and polished power gem known as the "Alak-ans".

Next: The Break In

Several campaigns followed DOM Triplo in rapid succession.  (I say rapid, but they took years to complete).  "The Elemental Campaign" was first, but the timeline was overlapped by "The Moritanian Campaign, then immediatly followed by "The Khaniz Campaign" The players were the same gang from the DOM Triplo campaign, but obviously with different characters (as one hundred years went by since the DOM Triplo Campaign.)  Kev started out with Karsh Petros (heir to the throne), then when Karsch was called away to the capital, He played Turmond, then Karek.  He returned to Karsh for The Morit Campaign.

Chris played Veltek Morseby-Malpedi (Jared's great-grandson) in The Elemental, and the DOM Guard Guwek Tyno in The Moritanian.  Brian played Forcellus Blaad (great grandson of Garthon [Blade] Blaad for both campaigns. Michael Meade was added for the Morit campaign as Vin Verde of the Green Veil.  Dave, of course, played Tirian throughout.  Confused?  It shall all make sense as we go.  First, The Elemental Campaign (as related by Tirian).

Next: A Man of Ambition