“Moving my hands over the reams of browning, curling and sometimes crumbling scrolls…some of skins, some of paper, some of parchment, I see what has been and fortell what shall come to pass.
I have gathered up plates of greened copper, tablets of crumbling stone, the softly glowing plates of incorruptible adamantine whose secrets are older than the kingdoms of Caledonia and Avalon, the greatest of the kingdoms of men.
I have cut my fingers on the still sharp edges of the dragonscale leather upon which is inscribed the tales of long-dead heroes and villains, their stories having grown greater with each telling until their might rivals that of the Kings of the Earth or the ancient Dark Ones, may their eyes always be averted from us.
This was, long ago, beyond the memories of even the most ancient dragons, even beyond the memories of the Childre of the Dragon, a vastly different world. The Plates of Andromoloch tell of a time when the gods were not dragons but instead beings of pure spirit that dwelled beyond the circles of the world. These gods, who were even more mighty than the Kings of the Earth were the children of the Queen of Heaven and her consort, may his name be forever unspoken. The Plates speak of a time when the gods were slain by the evil of their own father and in being so slain joined his wife, also slain with his hand, in that afterlife prepared for such august spirits.
All things pass and these are tales for and such are a tale for another time. As I pen this the world around me changes. My hand is grown frail over lo’ these many years in service to the Sentinalspire and its secrets but I will continue to watch that which transpires as I am still needed by the Queen to shepard those who will seek deeper truths than those taught by their tribes and traditions.
My Lady, The Queen of Heaven has awakened as prophesied by the sagious Andromoloch, she stirs in the hearts of those of us, like myself, who seek her face and in other who may not know her name but push back against the encroaching darkness of the Dark Kings and their spawn as well as the tendrils of an evil even greater, that of the Faceless Lord, who after millennia of silence stirs in the hidden places, places unknown even to the Dark Kings who unwittingly serve his cause.
The Asar’ri of Gaultgorm, with the subtle promptings of their King Grimmerfang, grow restless and weary of border skirmishes against the Knights of Caledonia, the Totem Lords of Avalon, the Berserkers of Engarholt and the dark dwarves of Kal Derghol. It seems that only their indecision as to whom they should war with first stays their hand against their neighbors.
It is whispered that the Lady of the Hollow Lands and their horrors, Semayana, Childre of the Nameless One, plots some new blaspheme against her kin and their subjects for the spawn of those dark lands have grown into a far more frequent menace than they had been in times past. This should surprise none for she, like her Dark Brethren, has never done more than pay lip service to Pax Draconis, the promise of peace agreed upon by the Kings of the Earth in ages past.
A mysterious and largely unspoken of fear drives the elves of Cyndrenon to change their ancient traditions of internment of the dead and to adopt those of their neighbors. The Cyndre are a proud people who change not easily and this seemingly small, to the ignorant, change may foreshadow grim events to come. It is whispered, though now only a rumor, that the interred dead have begun to stir and plague their still living kin.
In the Free Kingdoms, the thugs and murderers of the Scarlet Order, the last remaining residue of the unspeakable evil of The Purging, are attempting to bring forth the Inquisition against all of those who they feel outside their curious vision of righteousness. Only the might of the Pact Lords, those kings and queens of the City States in the region, prevent a renewed fiery holocaust against those who displease these tyrants. Unfortunately, it is likely that one or more of the Pact Lords will have their ears tickled by promises of power in this life and paradise in the next by the sugar tongued deceivers and allow these zealots free reign. Only time will tell.
I feel the stirring within The Barrowmount, where legend says that a being of vast power was summoned by Emperor Kallendros of Pyrradon and bound to his service in the days before the Sundering and the Death of the Gods. So old is this site and so mixed are its legends that none know this being’s name or even whether or not the tales are true. The only clue I can glean from the Plates is that this being has since time immemorial been called the Goatfoot God and its cultists so wicked and corrupt that even the priesthoods of the Dark Dragonkings hunt them down mercilessly. I surmise that it isn’t the evil that shakes these priests and their followers to action but instead the threat implied by that which they serve. I must look more into this.
The world shifts and the spirit of the age is unquiet to all with ears to hear and eyes to see. I will do what I can to see to it that the wicked are stopped and their plans come to naught but this is something that I cannot do alone. It is time to call upon those who would throw their lot in with the Light of Heaven for I am Galdor the Twice Born, Illumined of the Queen of Heaven, Patriarch of the Brotherhood of Sentinalspire and Warden of the Gates of Dawn.”
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