“Vin-Grandalar celebrates the Eternal Warrior, but the Devotees were mostly ignorant of that champion’s true place in history. They knew only that the Eternal Warrior was a Dwarven hero of the Elder Days who hunted the Maiden’s enemies, and they sang his praises once every year because the priestesses told them to. But the priestesses of the inner circle knew the secret of the Eternal Warrior. They knew his greater burden and his connection to the ancient evil in the east.” Jerilyn of Colcester
“I can sense it, Jerilyn. The Prophesies are in motion once more. Soon, I will leave the Mountain of Clouds and see it through to the end. It has been a long time since the first promise was made, my friend, a very long time and I am weary. I hope, when it is over, that the Balance will let me rest.” Kandol Elf Lord
“One time, a group of adventurers came to the Blue Lagoon seeking my help on some save-the-world-quest, you know the type. They hailed from Renk, but one of them, a paladin named Lindair, was Humadin. I tell you, Jerilyn, the brand of the bear was stamped upon his shoulder, but he knew nothing of the people of the steppes. He claimed to have traveled through a fold in the Girdle to another world where he fell in battle to a demon bear. He awakened in Renk, as I met him, reborn as a warrior of the bear clan.” The Wizard of the Blue Lagoon
“Don’t blame yourself, Kandol. You do that far too often. You couldn’t have known. Anyone else would have drawn the same conclusion. Given the same information, I know who I’d have believed.” Jerilyn of Colcester
“Don’t look so surprised by the mention of Dragons, Jerilyn. I know that a few of the wyrms made lairs on Fanar but most, like me, preferred Tyrnavalle’s solitude, even those spawned by Davyrma. I suppose I do feel some distant kinship with them, their heritage comes from the Lord of the Spires just as mine does, but I am no more their cousin than you are the butterfly’s. And, before you ask, I do not hold a grudge against the Seeress for her judgment against my Grandfather. He got what he deserved for circumventing Finbardin’s will. In the end, it worked out for the best. In fulfilling their doom, Dracoris and Davyrma served Finbardin’s will as their father would not. To tell the truth, I’d tip my hat to the Seeress if I were wearing one. Her prophetic gaze looked far into the future when she thwarted Harnor.” The Wizard of the Blue Lagoon
“Honestly, Jerilyn? I just preferred Tyrnavalle over Fanar. Besides, why live in Mankind’s crowded cities when I could visit any time I chose? Far traveling does have its uses, you know. If I had to guess why, I’d say it was my upbringing. Our only guest in the Grove was Kandol and he was anything but a frequent visitor. Valdarag and Aeris were the first of many I planned on entertaining, but Kandol ruined those plans. Fanar was too noisy for my taste, so I chose Tyrnavalle. For thousands of years, while the kingdoms of Mankind rose and fell on Fanar, Tyrnavalle remained virgin and unexplored. The first men didn’t step on its shores until well after Ataryl started the God-Emperors’ dynasty. Before that it was largely unsettled. A few Elves, led in Hali’s time by one named Haleya, lived in the QuendiForest, scattered survivors of the lost Elven tribes of the Elder Days, and a smattering of other Elder Races dwelled in Tyrnavalle’s hills, vale and weald. And, of course, there were Dragons.” The Wizard of the Blue Lagoon
“It was Aeris’s idea initially. A thousand years before the time of Thar, a dark and twisted evil from the Elder Days came down from the Darkstar and formed the Shadowgrim. The Dark Ones following the ancient evil named it the Shadow Lord, though I knew it by other names. After a century and a half, the Shadowgrim spread to cover an area stretching southeast from the Briarwood Forest. Aeris had no great desire to leave Pel Aesylle, but the growing shadow in the east worried him. More than most, he knew the evil that grew in the murky fens of the Shadowgrim. He and Ilnaya founded the Elvenhome Dol Melerith deep in the heart of the Briarwood, which my people called the Dael Shaelyn. From there, they stood vigilant against the shadow to the east, warding Mankind for centuries against its nameless evil. Maelryn and Emerre they left behind, in my care, much to their later regret. The Balance warps all within its reach.” Kandol Elf Lord
“False prophets for false gods, Tarik. The Long Night has passed and we’re in a new age, an age where the gods no longer exist. They are gone, alive only in dusty myth, mere fodder for bedtime stories. Once upon a time they may have been real, but now they are the substance of dreams. Only the Balance is real. Everything else is illusion. I have traveled beyond the Girdle with the Herald and seen the truth … Arrgh! Pass me that wine, Tarik. My head is pounding again.” Jerilyn of Colcester
“Though an Elder of Alyrre, I revered all nine Elehu, not just the four lords of the seasons. Back then we did not accept some and reject others, as your people do. We embraced all the gods. Two Elehu forsook their places in the Outermost Heavens by going over to One-Eye and seven remain: Umbar Lord of Sea and Storm, Yarnor the Ravager, Celetran the Lady of Esel, and the four lords of the seasons. Umbar you know well. The Ravager lived atop Mount Xorada, where Elras first made the Twice Forged Sword. In your age, he strayed far from the thoughts of Mankind and, beyond fathering a Vanara, figured little in your fables. The last is Celetran, who metes out the gods’ justice from Esel, though the Lady is first in my heart. More than any of the gods, I have known her and I have loved her. Like me, she serves the Balance, doing its will before Finbardin’s, and like me, she has told many lies and kept many secrets.” Kandol Elf Lord
“The Golden Whale? No, by my time it was long gone. When I visited Sangrithar, I stayed at The Pansy Shield. A crazy old warrior named Swafnah with a pansy fetish ran the place. Every table had a fresh vase of pansies, even in the dead of winter. Shields with embossed flowers covered the walls, the linens – always fresh, I might add – were embroidered with a pansy theme and every item on the menu came with a pansy garnish. One of his oldest friends told me that he’d been catapulted one time too many. Needless to say, this Swafnah attracted an odd crowd, one that I rather enjoyed. ” Jerilyn of Colcester