Tales of the False Prophet 

The False Prophet had told his newest story — one where the Commodore of Evernight did not drown in the sea that fateful night, but instead lived again to fight another day. With those words, the dark ship appeared upon the grassy knoll and a skeletal crew began to pour overboard. But this story would not last for long, for after a while of sharing stories back and forth with members of Travance, he sensed something alarming; the tablet pieces had gone missing! Did Travance rip them from his grasp? Did Travance teleport them to the other side of the world somehow? How did they move them so fast that he could no longer sense them? The False Prophet was both sad and confused at the realization, and with a heavy sigh, he picked up the handle to his wagon, and began to lumber it off the field, just as his most recent epic story faded from existence. 

Over a thousand years of his stories faded quickly and would continue fading over the months to come — his whole life’s work undone.  His power felt severely diminished. He could still tell short stories, which would quickly fade, and perhaps every once in a blue moon a story would still stick. Perhaps if he could get people to worship him, some small measure of his power would return. Or perhaps when he finally found his tablet, he could reabsorb its power and aggressively start a whole new book of tales. He would pull his cart and travel the world in search of new opportunities, for whatever future lie in store for him, he knew that he had much work to do. 


Over the coming months, false histories would disappear, leaving behind only unrealized truths. The miraculous breaking of the tablet caused the False Prophet's illusions to fall apart and now, with the tablet hidden from his view, he may never be able to fix it and reabsorb his full power. He too would now live a new realized truth — that he is not the being he once was or believed himself to be. What of the rest of the world? What ripples will these realized truths cause? Not only worldly truths are being realized, but some personal ones as well. Only time would tell the full effects. Ancient tomes continue to shift in size and content. Maps shift and appear as well. It will take several months for the dust to settle upon our history books once again…


Flags of Diplomacy

High General Kristoph Drexel turned to his compatriots and nodded in approval. Progress of some kind was made here this night. They took their notes from the meetings and placed them into a secure, locked box to be delivered to the duke along with their in-person debriefings. He ordered the soldiers in his company to start breaking down the camp. In the morning, they would depart and ride back to Althawine. 

*  * *  * *

Cygan Sedeva Jadari sat with his feet up on the desk in the officers’ quarters. The ship was in the Anterries Sea, headed back to Coast Haven. Flynt Rodgers was in the corner of the room in a chair, smoking his pipe and stewing on the details of the previous days meetings with the people of Travance.  Drell Kalaheart was on a bed in the medical cabin, still being seen to by all the ships physicians. The general prognosis was that it was unlikely he would awaken or even survive the trip home. He had been shot through the throat, his head slamming into a pillar and then cracking hard on the ships floor. They never got a good look at the assassin, but they had an idea or two of whom it could have been. Jadari was honestly unsure what to think about the meetings aside from having a pounding headache from the ordeal. The threats levied regarding Amon'Zod were troubling, to say the least. Monumental work would need to be done to avoid this if the threats where true. Mostly, they struggled wondering if the assassination should be taken as an excuse for war or a convincing sign to back away from their ambitions. All of this would now be up to the merchant council and Queen — aside from the debriefing of events, their part in this was done, for now. 


The Primal Springtide

The Rite of Primal Springtide was a success and already the relief could be felt upon the wildlife of the world. The initial event that took place, by all appearances, was the breaking of the False Prophet's tablet, and as a result countless other events set into motion….

*  * *  * *

The Count sat at a desk in his manor staring at the remaining Verdranne blades. Three groups would be chosen to escort each weapon to its rightful resting place to see the deed done. Afterwards, the Valley of the Dragon, an ancient site hidden for all this time, would finally be revealed for a great purpose. 

It had been over a year since she suppressed herself from him, but now he could feel her full and open presence. It made him feel empowered to share a consciousness with such a magnificent being, but most of all it gave him the strength he needed to continue on. 

*  * *  * *

Professor Algrave returned to his office and sat in quiet contemplation for several hours. He had just been told about details regarding the False Prophet, Anjira — one of which would change things. The Paladins’ fight with the Maw would come sooner than expected, and would likely take place before his student’s studies were complete. They were not yet ready to do their part to assist the Paladins, but they would have to be…