Ariss

Is it not so that a single spark may ignite the greatest fires? Few were the meetings among the travellers, yet great their effect. From near and far new sparks leap up to close the gaps among the flames once more, to find new roads to old friends and to fight back the loneliness that engulfs the settlers.

High above the world the gates of the great Castle of Karnaugh have opened and like snakes of gleaming silver the companies of courageous soldiers emerged, descending from the height to bring order into the wilderness below. Towards the east and south they travel, seeking to restore the old roads of Montor. May the virtues guide their feet and lead them to the arching bridges of the Citadel in safety. And to the west they venture, into the great forests. Whispers speak of great horrors among the trees, yet what could stand against their spears and shields?

Out of the desert ride the gypsies, colourful scarves streaming like banners in the wind. Like a wisp they dance along what path they find, seeking to see the world and its treasures. Whoever they meet they share their tales with; tales of the new watch post on the road to Montor, of the caravan aiming for the pass and the expeditions to the south. Like friends of old they share the wonders of the desert: glass blown out of coloured sand, figures of granite, precious and beautiful. Dried fish from the lake and meat of the lizard. And none part such a meeting without the feeling of having made a friend.

Stranger still are those that came at night. Hooded men and women, heading no inn, no invitation. To Mistas they travel, seeking audience with its leaders. More have been seen heading further east. And to Karnaugh they came, to hammer at the gate in the dark of the night. Rumour names them wizards, witches, wise ones and teachers. Their modest introductions name them emissaries, mediators and advisors. Known to all is the sigil of the Temple of Knowledge on their robes.

And yet, they, too, carry the flame from which new sparks will take flight. Travellers from distant places search and find, meet and depart. Let us come together under the stars of the night and share mead and meat in the spirit of old Montor, the everlasting dream of friendship.