Those from the expedition and a few of the Altemen followed the little golem across the flat gray floor of the cavern toward the edge of the crevasse at the far side. The odd combination of the steady light from the newly illuminated bumps spread around the cavern and the still burning torches gave the sixty foot wide crevasse an ominous look. The shear cliff wall opposite the cavern seemed black and slick. Rishmond watched as a the white, hairless form of a wild kathtwip made its impossible climb up the sheer rock face out of sight into the shadows above. 

As they approached the edge a low, thick iron chain slung between iron posts set in the rock a foot or so from the edge became clear. The whispers in Rishmond's head grew quieter but their insistence and urgency continued as before.

Torg headed toward a gap in the chain. The posts supporting the two ends of the chain were different here, taller and curved over, seeming to flow down over the edge and into the crevasse. Rishmond saw that gap appeared to be the entrance or access to the very edge, a place unprotected were one could easily step off into nothing and plummet down into the unknowable, dark depths.

Torg stopped just before crossing the line formed by the chain stretched along the edge, close enough to the supports to reach out one stubby arm to grip the iron that Rishmond now saw as the anchor to a ladder that led over the edge into the crevasse. Torg's head turned around until is was facing the wrong direction again, something that reminded Rishmond the creature was not a living being whenever he saw it. "I will be back in just a few minutes. I will go alone, the maintenance tunnel is not fit for more than one. It will not take me long. Once I have enacted the reset, I will return and we can proceed to the Shrine."

"Torg!" Rishmond called. "Is this safe?"

"Of course, Wizard Rishmond. Do not be concerned. These ladders are sturdy. They have been here a very long time, but they are of good make and quality and will easily support my weight. Do not worry. We will be on our way in naught but a few minutes."

"Be careful, Torg. Be safe."

With that, Torg turned his head back around and stepped toward the edge of the crevasse, turning in an odd way he slipped over the edge and disappeared below.

Rishmond stepped up between the two iron supports carefully, grabbing ahold of one as he peered over the edge to watch Torg descending quickly down a ladder attached to the side of the cliff below. He then watched the little golem, glowing now in the dark shadows below, disappear into what was apparently an opening about ten feet below.

His attention was drawn to the sheer walls of the crevasse, glowing green crystals dotted both walls, some in small spots and others in long lines of irregular glowing green. At last his vision of what the mines should look like became reality. As far down as he could see into the blackness, glittergreen glowed like a million lightning bugs trapped in black rock.

"Rishmond." Tybour's voice brought his attention back to the people gathered around behind him. He turned to face Tybour, his hand still gripping the ladder tightly. "Come away from the edge. Let's let Torg do his work." Tybour gestured for him to come away from the edge.

Rishmond stepped away from the ladder, toward Tybour. A familiar voice sounded off to his left. "These ladders are how the Gods got around the mines in the days before the elevator, you know."

VanLief Aericksen spoke in the voice Rishmond had come to recognise as his lecture voice, used when he wanted to impart some bit of information he thought important or at least novel.

"There are few records that still remain about the days before the Blessing, but records and writings about the mine do remain. Protected and well preserved by the Altemen here in the mine," he nodded his head toward Elder Geriswald as if to say thank you. "The records are clear about the elevator and its construction, well, when it was constructed, but not how. It is clear in the records that the 7 ladders here along this crevasse were built by the Gods to allow them access to deeper sections of what was, at one time, a natural cave system. By all accounts the Gods themselves used to mine the glittergreen for their own purpose until it was found that the Altemen were immune to the ghosts of the mine and mountain."

Elder Geriswald answered from Rishmond's right, "It is true. Altemen were brought here by the Gods to assist, to carve out the rock to make room for what the Gods had planned. The records of our ancestors speak of wonders that I thought were gone from this world, at least until the return of the Gods to our realm. I hadn't dared to hope that would happen in my lifetime, but now the hope has ignited within me. If an instrument of the Gods can return here and restore the mine to its glory, then anything is possible. The lights have not worked since the Blessing and now they are restored. It is only by the grace of the Gods. If Torg speaks truly, which I have no reason to doubt now, then the elevator will move under its own power once again."

"I thought magic didn't work here in the mines?" queried Gregor Tranto. "Something to do with the concentration of glittergreen?"

Rishmond noted the marked difference in the mood of those gathered here. Just moments ago they were all nervous and high-strung. Now, most were drawn to VanLief Aericksen's lecture, their attention pulled away from the intense return of the visions and voices and the unsettling behavior of Torg. Cantor and Illiar stood next to him and he could feel that both of them were much less anxious, not relaxed by any means, but definitely more at ease than they had been since entering the mines. He reached out to hold hands with both women, drawing comfort from their touch.

"You would be correct, sir. Magic is, at best, unreliable here in the mines." VanLief moved to a place next to Elder Geriswald and continued, "The concentration of glittergreen as such a strong catalyst causes unpredictable results, even for the simplest of uses. Even using just a small amount of lotret can cause a huge problem, or none at all, as I said, unpredictable. It is for that reason the Gods created something they called a-leck-tra-city. A power not from magic. We don't really know what it is, the Gods didn't reveal that secret to mortals and there are only a few accounts of it, most here in this very mine's records. We know that it can be created from glittergreen, but we don't know how.  We also know that the God tablets run on it, but we can't reproduce it at all. Attempts to create it with magic have caused the loss of most of the remaining working tablets of which we are aware. In fact, the tablet here at the elevator is the only known working tablet in all of the civilized lands of Rit." Once Wizard Aericksen began to lecture, his speech tended to turn poetic and flowery. It was at once both endearing and annoying.

A loud clang echoed in the crevasse, followed closely by a distinctive click. Everyone in the gathered group turned as one toward the sound, their eyes fixed on the ladder Torg had descended. Everything was quiet for several long moments, even the whispers seemed to pause. The whispers returned and the sound of a wild kathtwip scrambling up the far wall broke the silence. No one spoke, but the sound of breathing seemed to resume suddenly. Rishmond turned his head to look around at those gathered here. Everyone was still and quiet, still staring at the ladder, waiting.

Torg's arm appeared above the edge, pulling the rest of him up behind it. Torg mounted the floor and walked toward the group. He zeroed in on Rishmond and walked directly up to him. 

"The repairs are complete, we can go now. The elevator will get us to the lowest level much quicker now. Are you prepared to go?" Torg's movements were smoother and quicker now, as if he'd been invigorated by what ever it was he'd just done.

"Yes, Torg, if you are. What did you do?" Rishmond grinned down at the golem.  "I'm glad you are back safe."

Torg tilted his head a bit to one side, looking up at Rishmond. "That is kind of you, Wizard Rishmond. There is no need for you to be concerned."

"Just Rishmond. Just call me Rishmond. No need to address me as Wizard all the time." Rishmond placed one had on Torg's shoulder, bending just a little to reach. "We're friends and friends don't need to be so formal."

Torg seemed to pause for a moment before saying, "I like that. That we are friends." Rishmond watched the sparks in his head explode into a thousands of rainbow streaks, bursts and sparks. "I will call you Rishmond then and we shall be friends."

The little crystal golem turned from Rishmond and headed back toward the elevator. The crowd parted and made way for him and then followed Rishmond and Torg back toward the elevator, Cantor and Illiar close behind Rishmond. Tybour trailed the group by several feet, with Elder Geriswald, Haningway, Ueet, and VanLief Aericksen all deep in some private conversation.

The group all boarded the elevator and Torg once again extended his legs so he could view and touch the tablet on its stand. The device glowed much brighter now even in the brighter light of the newly restored lights. Rishmond saw a number of Altemen moving about the cavern, snuffing torches.

Torg turned his head toward the first guard they'd encountered when they'd first approached the elevator, "I will show you how to operate the elevator." The Altemen moved around next to Torg and watched as he pointed to several points on the tablet's surface.

"Master Torg," spoke Elder Geriswald, "we have need to stop at the mid-level, Supervisor Haltoo has a job to do and it would be good to take him along with us."

"Of course, Elder Geriswald. Rishmond?" Torg said his name like a question.

"Yes... yes, of course." Rishmond responded a little embarrassed that he'd been asked as if he could say no.

"Clear the doors please." Torg's voice carried over the quiet conversations going on among those gathered together on the elevator.

Some shuffling and moving ensued and those near where the doors would close moved further into the elevator. It wasn't crowded at all, the elevator could have fit 20 more people easily, but it seemed that everyone decided as one that erroring on the side of caution was best.

Torg instructed the Altemen operator to press on a specific place on the tablet's surface and the gates swung smoothly shut with a soft whirring sound, the latch clicked locking the gates in place. Torg pointed to a new spot on the tablet and watched the operator press on its surface and the elevator began to descend on its long trip down into the depths of the Glittergreen Mines.

Torg spoke to the Altemen operator for a few brief moments before turning away from the tablet and retracting his legs to his original height. "It will take about eleven minutes for the elevator to reach the mid-level. Elder Geriswald has asked that we stop there to deliver Supervisor Haltoo and his men to that level and then we can continue on to the bottom. The trip from mid-level to the bottom will take about ten minutes."

"Just how deep does this mine go?" asked Illiar. "We seem to be falling fairly quickly."

Torg turned his head toward Illiar, his gaze seemed to sweep over her and Rishmond and on to Cantor before settling on Rishmond. "From the top of the shaft where we boarded the elevator to its lowest point is two thousand two hundred feet. The cavern floor where we boarded the elevator is three hundred feet below the level of the ground where we entered the mines. The shrine is technically 10 feet deeper than the bottom of the elevator shaft's lowest point when measured from the ground level at the mine's entrance. That is not technically the bottom of the current mine. According to recent records, the Altemen miners have opened a floor below the level of the shrine, putting the functional bottom of the mine at two thousand five hundred twenty-two feet below the level of the entrance. However, since the mine does extend under some of the peaks of the Glittergreen Mountains, if measured from the highest surface directly over the..."

"Torg," interrupted Tybour, "I think the question was more general. That's enough detail for now."

"The elevator has never moved this fast in my life time," spoke Elder Geriswald to no one in particular. He leaned heavily on the thick, wooden staff he carried. "Getting to the bottom before Torg completed his repairs used to take well over an hour. Getting back up often took two hours or more. We are greatly indebted to you Master Torg."

Elder Geriswald bowed toward Torg, tilting his head down and to the left in a gesture of high respect. "How fast will the elevator be able to rise back up?"

"The speed should be more or less constant Elder, one hundred feet per minute, give or take a foot depending on load." Torg gestured back at the elder, crossing his right arm across his chest and then passing his right hand from his left shoulder to the middle of his chest, palm flat against his torso. Not something Rishmond had witnessed him do before, but he recognised the gesture from witnessing Altemen do it when addressing other Altemen of higher rank.

Rishmond's headache had subsided a bit thanks to the fresh piece of gum he was chewing, but the whispers continued to urge him on in his head. The walls of the shaft were visible through the large horizontal gaps in the elevator walls, the rock moved past quickly and each floor they passed felt like flying as they descended quickly through the open space of the caverns. Glittergreen flashed by now, exposed in the shaft walls and in the walls of the caverns they passed through. The lights of the Gods also flashed by, their steady yellow-white glow illuminating everything in consistent light. Flashes of shadow and light added to the visions brought on by the glittergreen of the mines. Rishmond found himself staring down at the floor after only a few moments to avoid the constant visual assault. Illiar and Cantor huddled close in the same position, both mentioning to Rishmond how the movement and visions were causing them unease, both mentally and physically. 

"Sitting," said Tybour suddenly, just out of Rishmond's sight, "helps. It will keep you from feeling wobbly as well as put your line of sight below the gaps in the walls." Rishmond looked up to see Tybour sinking down cross-legged to a seat next to Illiar. Cantor followed his example quickly, she was being affected heavily by the visions and whispers and her face looked ashen in the oddly flashing light. Illiar and Rishmond followed suit and they ended up sitting cross-legged in a small circle, facing each other.

"We need some distraction. Some soothing voice to keep our minds occupied with something we don't need to put much energy into." Tybour smiled wanly at the group. "Aericksen!" He raised a hand and waved toward the tall, lanky Wizard, beckoning him over to their little group. Rishmond noted that all the Altemen in the elevator were quite unaffected by the movement or sights of their rapid descent.

"Perhaps the premier Researcher for the Malminar Council of Wizards will have something that will distract us. He seems to be strangely inured to the effects the rest of us are feeling, so let's put that to good use for ourselves." Tybour smiled wryly at Rishmond, admitting that the much older man was apparently better at something than he was irked him a tad bit.

"Yes, Tybour. How can I assist?" VanLief Aericksen smiled broadly and gave a slight bow The ambient sound of the elevator's descent changed at just that moment as it passed out of enclosed rock shaft and into the seemingly open air of another level's cavern.

"Can you sit with us and tell us more about the mine and the elevator?" Tybour knew full well that an invite extended for Aericksen to pontificate on any subject he knew anything about would not be refused.

"But of course! I can't promise I know as much as Elder Geriswald, but it is likely I know things he may not and I do know quite a bit about the mine and much about the elevator." The older Wizard stepped between Rishmond and Tybour who scooted a bit further apart to make room. Leaning down, he placed a hand heavily on both their shoulders, supporting himself as he lowered himself to the floor and crossed his legs. "What would you like to know? History? Do you want to start with what I know of the elevator and then I can answer your questions about it, to the best of my ability and knowledge, of course."

Aericksen could be pompous, but he was really a nice man, thought Rishmond. It was more about the Researcher being so occupied with the knowledge he had and the interest to share it with others, and his want to gather more information that sort of blinded the man to how he came off to others. In the several lessons Rishmond had with the man, Aericksen had lost track of time keeping the whole class well passed time in his passion for whatever it was he was instructing them about, but especially about anything related to before the Blessing.

"Tell us about kathtwips," said Cantor, surprising everyone in the little circle. Everyone turned to look at her. "They look like thwippits, but without hair. And they seem to climb like thwippits too, at least the few wild ones we saw on the cliff face across the chasm. They seemed to be held to the cliff face by magic."

Rishmond smiled. It made sense Cantor would ask about the animals, she'd always had a soft spot for animals of all sorts.

"Well..." VanLeif paused for a moment as he adjusted his train of thought from whatever it had been he was about to lecture on to a new subject. "You are correct, they are related to thwippits." His face changed, settling to a contemplative look, his eyes focused in the middle-distance as if he was reading a chalkboard at the front of a classroom, one no one else could see.

"Thwippits also populate the Glittergreen Mountains, on the surface, below the tree line, just like in the mountains of Maliminar. The ones in here in the Reaches are the short-haired variety. Kathtwips are their underground cousins. Interestingly enough, their like is not found in any of the cave systems explored in Maliminar, nor anywhere else on Halconiket. Kathtwips are only native to the cave systems here in the Glittergreen Mountains."

The glittergreen tattoo on VanLief's forehead seemed to flash and grow brighter as he talked, the movement of his head causing the glittergreen crystal powder in the tattoo ink to catch the light, responding to the changing lights outside the elevator.

"They were domesticated before the blessing, working here in the mines to haul ore and crystal to the surface, their short front legs and strong back legs make them perfect for use in small tight tunnels and their excellent sight in the dark of the caves made them the perfect companions to the Gods and those that helped mine. They are, as you saw, still used today to transport heavy loads into and out of the mines."

"And the wild ones? Are they escaped from captivity and just can't be captured again? I mean, anything that can climb vertical surfaces like that can't be easy to catch!" Cantor was captivated by VanLief's information, she leaned forward towards him, hanging on each word.

"Oh no. Those are left wild on purpose, even as a wild animal they serve a purpose here in the mines. Kathtwips are extremely well adapted to life underground. They are very sensitive to tremors, they know exactly where unstable rock is and where the most stable rock lies. They can sense a tunnel collapse well before it happens and they just know when a tunnel branch continues forward with enough space to pass through, and when it does not. Careful observation of kathtwip behavior can tell an experienced miner exactly where to go, where not to go, and when to best get out. The Altemen make a studious practice of observing both the domesticated and wild kathtwips to keep the mines safe and operating."

The sounds of the elevator changed, Rishmond thought it sounded like it was slowing down. The feel changed as well and Rishmond could definitely tell they were slowing. They must be coming to what he'd heard called the mid-level. When he'd asked he'd been told the mid-level was a supply center where supplies were stocked for delivery to lower levels, emergency equipment and some sort of administrative center. VanLief had told him that was where most of the surviving documents from before the Blessing originated and where they were stored, protected from the outside world in a vault of some sort.

"Ah. We are coming to the mid-level," said VanLief, as if taking a cue from Rishmond. "We'll be here for a minute or two before continuing on to the Shrine level at the very bottom of the mine, or at least what used to be the very bottom." He smiled and rose smoothly to his feet without assistance from Tybour or Rishmond. 

Rishmond stood and held out a hand each to Illiar and Cantor. They both took one of his hands and he helped pull them to their feet. They both flashed Rishmond a brilliant smile before they turned and moved off to Rosa's side. The three of them immediately bent their heads together and began whispering. Rishmond smiled after them, admiring the way they moved when they walked. The whispers seemed to sense Rishmond's elevated mood and rushed in with renewed intensity. 

The elevator came to a stop and the gates clicked and whirred open. This cavern was much smaller than the one at the top, in fact the chasm that was visible at the edge of the cavern above was not exposed here, the cavern was completely enclosed by the dark gray rock broken only by glowing green exposed crystal on all sides, even the floor and ceiling. Four sturdy, think metal posts marked the corners of the elevator, the thick chains running along both sides of each post, smaller chains ran vertically between the posts. The mechanics of the elevator fascinated Rishmond, he would have to remember to ask Torg about it when they started moving again, he would need the distraction from the whispers and flickering shadows of visions.

At that moment one of the shadow visions suddenly coalesced and sharpened to a clear vision. Several impossibly tall humans, ten or twelve feet tall, holding up the corner posts of the elevator's shaft, a number of more normal sized humans working beside them, fixing the posts in place. A shining, light-haired, beautiful man stood off to the side apparently directing those working, a shining, dark-haired, beautiful woman with golden feathered wings stood next him, holding a large tablet propped against one hip stood next to him watching the activity. The whispers sounded excited and seemed to swirl around him as if he were in the center of some sort of vortex.

The vision disappeared as quickly as it had appeared and Rishmond glanced around to see what the other's reactions were. No one seemed at all affected. He looked to Tybour but even he appeared to not have seen the vision.

Illiar stood quite close to him on his right side, she did not act like she'd seen anything out of the ordinary. 

"Did you see that?" Rishmond asked her quietly.

"See what?" She looked deep into his eyes, causing him to catch his breath for just a moment. As if she'd found something in his eyes to concern her, she tilted her head to one side a bit and her green eyes narrowed. "Are you OK, Rishmond? What did you see?" She kept her voice quiet and moved closer to him, her hands going to his shoulders.

"I saw.. I thought I saw... Well, nothing really... just shadows, visions. I just let myself get caught up in them. It was nothing. Really. I'm fine." He smiled at her, putting as much sincerity and confidence into his face and voice as he could. He could hear his own voice, not much more than a husky whisper, he couldn't look away from her eyes and he felt as if the whole world had turned the exact same green as her eyes. Not for the first time he noticed the golden brown flecks just around her elongated pupil, her scent was strong in his nose, flowery and musky at the same time, altogether pleasant he thought. His hands moved of their own accord to her waist.

Rishmond had no idea how long they stayed like that, it seemed like forever, the sounds and sights around him dissolved away leaving only the two of them in his world. The sudden loud clash of chains against metal brought him back abruptly to the present. Rishmond stepped back quickly, dropping his hands to his side and looking down and away from Illiar. He felt his face flush hot. Illiar also looked away quickly, crossing one arm across her chest and using the other hand to brush her hair behind one ear.

Rishmond glanced away and caught Tybour looking directly at him from across the elevator, his face wore a knowing smile and he nodded as his smile grew. Rishmond looked away quickly only to see Cantor standing next to him. He couldn't read her face but he looked away quickly, turning away from Illiar. He looked back at her, "Yes.. well, I'm fine, thank you. It was nothing. How are you? Do you need anything?" He felt stupid as soon as he said it. "I'll go see if Torg needs me," he said to no one and he walked the five steps away to where Torg stood  near the tablet in the corner of the elevator.

Rishmond stood next to Torg, feigning interest in what he was saying to the Altemen operator, staring blankly at the tablet in front of them, not really registering anything he was seeing. The whispers in his head seemed far away, still urgent and strangely excited, but no longer filling his head, just background to the his confused feelings. His heart continued to beat much faster than it really should.

The elevator resumed its descent again, continuing on its way to the bottom of the mine. The trip seemed to blur in Rishmond's head, time lost to the thoughts in his head. Illiar and Cantor. Thoughts of each of them competed in his mind. He cared for both of them, of course. His feelings about Illiar had changed significantly since the start of the expedition. Before this she'd been much more of an annoyance. Someone who was tasked to watch over him, not a friend really. He'd thought about her physical being. She was undoubtedly beautiful and her physical nearness in the last year had been.. interesting in that way, but she'd always been a know it all, and bossy, and she always knew she was right no matter what Rishmond said. In fairness, she more often that not was right, especially when it came to what Rishmond should do versus what he wanted to do, but that didn't make it any better. Working alongside her during this trip, where he'd had little opportunity, or want, to cause idle mischief had changed how he felt about her. She was smart, strong, competent, things he's already known but he had a new appreciation for her now.

He thought of Cantor. She'd always been a friend, someone he could share his thoughts with, someone he could cause mischief with. Heck, she instigated as much as he ever had. She was the leader of their group of friends, the one they all turned to when they wanted to do something grownups would likely disapprove of. His feelings about her had changed too. He'd never really noticed she was a girl, much less the woman she was now in his eyes. When did it all change? How could he feel this way about both of them? Was this the fate of all grown men? Halmond didn't have issues like this. He had Beritrude and she had him and Rishmond was certain that was the end of that in both of their minds. What would either of them say about his feelings and the way he was acting?

Tybour interrupted Rishmond's thoughts, slapping one arm around Rishmond's shoulders. "Hey. How're you doin'? You look like you've seen a ghost." 

Rishmond looked at his friend expecting a mocking grin or a teasing smile, something Tybour was quick to supply on most occasions, but instead he saw concern and compassion in his blue eyes.

"Kind of... When we stopped at mid-level, I saw.. something," he hesitated, no one else seemed to see it, would Tybour think he was being overly affected by the mines? If anyone else was likely have witnessed what he did, it was Tybour.  "The visions seemed to... sharpen, I was able to see faces, people, not just shapes and shadows. I don't think anyone else saw it." His eyes searched Tybour's, questioning.

"Go on. What did you see?" Tybour was turned Rishmond to face him squarely. 

Rishmond hesitated only a moment before deciding to go all in and tell Tybour what he'd seen.

When Rishmond finished there was a long silence, Tybour held his gaze for what seemed like several minutes. "Interesting. I didn't see anything like that, in fact the visions and whispers are much less for me since a bit before we stopped. I think they are centering on you for some reason. VanLief and I were talking about that earlier. Its as if whatever it is that causes this for other Wizards has decided you are what they need to focus on ever since your vision of Denisisie. I've told you before you were important, just not sure the purpose here. I guess this is why things conspired to ensure you were on this expedition. Looks like you have an important part to play."

That explanation seemed to satisfy Tybour, his attitude suddenly changed and he smiled, pulling Rishmond against his side with an arm around his shoulder. "Right then! Let us go ask VanLief and Elder Geriswald what your vision of the Apharallies and Gods building the elevator could mean."

The pair of them walked the short distance to where Elder Geriswald and VanLief Aericksen stood in conversation with Ueet and Haningway. Tybour recounted the vision Rishmond had experienced at the mid-level stop. Rishmond was glad for the distraction caused by the questions directed at him from both the Elder and VanLief as Rosa joined the little group along with both Cantor and Illiar. He carefully averted his eyes from all three of them but did notice that Illiar and Cantor were walking arm in arm. What could that mean? Where they both now united against him? Where they mad at him? Did he do anything wrong?

"The ancient records do mention that the building of the elevator required the labor of a large number of individuals," continued Elder Geriswald. "The most notable among them were the Apharallies, a race of giants. Their size and strength was invaluable to the construction of the supports and mechanisms."

"So, giants are real? The Apharallies really existed?" Cantor's question held both wonder and excitement. Rishmond was careful to keep his attention on Elder Geriswald. "Where are they now? What happened to them?"

"Yes, of course they existed. I can't say if they still do or not. As far as I know, the last anyone has heard from or seen any of them was over a hundred years ago. As legend has it though, we all owe our continued existence to them. After the Blessing, they were the biggest reason devils and demon spawn didn't wipe the rest of us out of existence," interjected VanLief. "It is said that during the turmoil after the initial Blessing that separated the Demon Lands from the Blessed Lands, storms and earthquakes were not the worst things mortals faced. The Demons sent their infernal creations, devils and demon spawn monsters by the hundreds into the Blessed Lands to exterminate mortals. The Apharallies dedicated themselves to the protection of the rest of us. Their great strength and skill in battle eliminated most of the threat until mortals recovered enough to be able to defend themselves. At some point after the Blessing, when the land finally settled and the storms and earthquakes subsided, the Demons stopped sending hordes of monsters and devils, we don't really know why. Perhaps they just got tired, or they began to run low on resources. We don't know, but we the legends do indicate that it is unlikely mortals would have survived as well if the initial hordes had not been thinned or eliminated by the Apharallies. They did not survive unscathed, legend says their numbers were decimated, perhaps to the point of extinction. No one has seen or heard from them in almost two hundred years. It is said no mortal has ever slayed a Demon, none that is, but an Apharallies. They are the only mortals known to be able to actually kill a true Demon."

The whispers in Rishmond's head changed at the same instant as the sound of the elevator indicated the platform was slowing, nearing their arrival at the bottom of the Glittergreen Mines. He looked around to see others doing the same, everyone anticipating the end of this part of their trip to the shrine.

"Gather your things," said Elder Geriswald, "we are arriving at the Shrine level."

The elevator gate opened and Elder Geriswald led the group from the elevator into a small cavern with just enough room to open the gates to allow everyone off the elevator platform. Everyone had to crowd to one side as one gate was closed then they all headed to that side and into a tunnel into the rock surrounding the cavern just large enough to fit the elevator in. The chasm they'd seen above was nowhere to be seen, just dark rock and shards of glittergreen crystal exposed. Only a handful of the bulbous lights Torg had somehow rekindled existed here, creating a twilight of sorts, the green glowing crystal shining like odd green stars appearing at dusk. The whispers seemed to urge  Rishmond forward as if they knew something exciting was waiting just a little bit further away.

Elder Geriswald halted the group just before the arched entrance to a dark passageway. "We are about to enter the antechamber to the shrine. It is a special place in the mines where we will prepare ourselves for the shrine. The antechamber is a place where we will wash and sleep so we can be ready for the experience of the Shrine itself. You will need to prepare yourself for the antechamber as well because it is cut off from the magic of Rit. It is one of the few places on Rit where magic is almost non-existent. The walls and doors were blessed by the Gods and covered with a substance that resists magic. In side the antechamber there is almost no lotret or lotrar. It will be shocking to most of you when the doors are shut. The connection you have felt to Rit, to the magic that flows within it or floats above it will be gone and it may be quite discomforting to many of you." Elder Geriswald looked at each of the members of the party one at a time, catching their eyes even in the low light. "You will need to prepare, but this will ease the effects of those of you who hear the glittergreen call and see the echoes of magic here in the mines. We will sleep here until morning and then we will enter the Shrine."

"I have never been to the Resting Room." Torg spoke suddenly from Rishmond's side. Rishmond didn't know when the golem had come up next to him. "I have wanted to see it ever since my mistress told me about it." Torg's voice was loud in comparison to the silence that followed Elder Geriswald's speech about the room they were about to visit. "I am told that the entire room is covered in kreleit. That should be most interesting to observe."

Shocked and concern gasps came from many of those gathered. "Keleit? That can't be!" exclaimed Gregor Tranto. "Touching kreleit means instant death!"

Other voices joined in with the same concerns. To almost any mortal just touching kreleit could mean an instant and unpleasant death, the very thing that made you alive, allowed you to feel the magic of Rit and use it, lotret or lotrar, would be sucked from your body and soul completely. Even Gods and Demons feared the metal and it was banned everywhere, from Malminar to the Arrangement of Peace, and even in the Demon Lands. Anyone found with kreleit would be arrested and killed, or more likely just killed outright in most places.

"Everyone!" Tybour raised his voice just enough to cut through the noise. "It will be OK. I have personally been in the antechamber, I have touched the walls, as have many, many before me. I won't lie and tell you I had no reservations the first time I came to the mines, but why would the Gods create a room that would kill anyone who entered it? However it was done, the kreleit used here will not harm you."

"If I might Wizard Tybour?" said Torg. "I can not explain the process, but I can tell you that the Gods had many uses for the metal you call kreleit, and only one of them was to create weapons that draw the jzirittiah from an individual. The metal can be formed into a number of different materials that can be used for various purposes, foremost among them for the Gods was to shield against magic, not to eliminate jzirittah, in fact that specific use was developed by a Demon, and as you know, that material is exceedingly rare. The Resting Room was created by the Gods here in the mind so that the mortals that assisted them in their work here had a place to be sheltered from the overwhelming amount of magic concentrated here. Without it, any mortal here too long may very well lose their sanity."

"Thank you, Torg," said Tybour.

"Yes. Thank you, Torg." Elder Geriswald smiled at the crystal golem like a grandfather smiling at a young grandchild who has just recited their alphabet. "I will be the first into the room and I will be happy to demonstrate that touching the walls and doors is a safe as at your own mother's home." He turned and slithered into the dark passageway.

At the end of the short dark hall they came to a large black door. The black metal of the door seemed to absorb the light, what little there was of it here. Elder Geriswald slithered up to the door and pushed on the left side, the door began to rotate on a center axis without a sound. Everyone moved through the doorway, many unconsciously shying away from the door sill and the door, careful not to touch the metal directly, into the large room on the other side. The ceiling and walls were made of the same metal as the door and a number of lanterns illuminated the room from metal hangers mounted to the walls, but the walls reflected none of the gentle, golden light. The far wall had a door identical to the one they'd just come through. Rishmond felt heady and dizzy once inside the room, as though some support he'd leaned on all his life had been removed and he was in danger of falling with every move. The unconscious connection to the magic of Rit was almost entirely gone.

The room felt close and tight. Everything surface was dark. Low wooden pallets lay about the room in four orderly rows, the sleeping rolls laid out on them were black or very dark blue, it was hard to tell. The small white pillows were odd splashes of light against the dark. The floor, where it was exposed in the narrow walkways between the sleeping pallets, was black, made of the same kreleit metal as the walls and ceiling. The wooden storage boxes at the end of each bed were painted black. Even the lanterns hung about the room were black boxes, the glass windows bright squares framed by black metal. The ceiling was only seven feet from the floor and Rishmond felt himself hunching his shoulders as if he might hit his head on the low ceiling at any moment.

The entire party was subdued and quiet speaking in low voices when they did speak at all. Even Torg seemed cowed by the oppressive darkness of the room. The golem was a bright spot in the room, at least to Rishmond. The magic swirled and pulsed in his body, giving off a light that never reached the objects in the room. Looking at Torg eased the pressure of the room and the lack of connection with magic. As if sensing Rishmond's thoughts, Torg turned from where he'd walked near the far door and returned to Rishmond's side. Cantor and Illiar crowded near to Rishmond and the return of Torg to their little group seemed to comfort them as much if not more than Rishmond. At least the whispers and visions were gone here.

"You'll feel better in a few minutes, not great, but you'll get used to it." Tybour spoke from just behind Rishmond. "Hmm, stick close to Torg. Apparently the Gods granted him a bit of his own magic source, like a bucket of water carried into to the Quouriobi desert. That will make our stay in here a bit easier. I've never liked this room." He said the last bit to no one.

A distinct click came from the door through which they'd entered the room. Rishmond reached out tentatively with his mind, looking for lotret, the free magic that existed nearly everywhere on Rit. He couldn't find any, not a single spec of it in the entire room. Reaching out for lotrar was a different experience, he could feel a muted source, like the muted whisper of someone in the next room, coming from Torg as well as a far away sound like the whispering wind or the sound of distant waves against a soft sand beach. The feeling of being so far from something he'd always taken for granted as just a part of life, a constant like the air he breathed. He looked to Illiar and Cantor, both their faces were sallow and drawn. He quickly led them to the nearest sleeping pallets and they all sat together. Torg joined and stood before the three of them, stoic and still. Rishmond took one hand of each of the women next to him and placed them on Torg's shoulders.

Long moments passed before all three young people shook themselves from their reverie and looked about the room. "Thank you, Torg," said Cantor, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper. "And you Rishmond. I'm better now. Illiar? Rishmond? Everyone OK?"

"I'm fine," answered Rishmond. "You? Illiar?"

"Not fine," responded Illiar. "Not fine. This is not okay." The edgy sarcasm told Rishmond she was indeed fine, fighting back against the feeling of being cut off from magic almost completely.

Tybour and Rosa sat across from them, behind Torg. "It takes some getting used to, that's for certain," said Tybour. "Take a look around. The room never affects the Altemen. I don't know how they do it. And Ueet, of course." He said the bit about Ueet quietly. Ueet knew he was magicless, but polite people didn't bring that up or talk about it, especially not to those so afflicted. 

Indeed, they looked around and the Altemen moved about the edges of the room, unaffected by the feeling the others in the room were having. Rishmond spotted both VanLeif and Gregor sitting cross legged on sleeping palets, eyes closed, in seeming meditation. Haningway stood near the second door, arms crossed, face set in a stern expression, Bantor stood in much the same pose on the other side of the door, his eyes closed, ears twisted to different angles, listening.

Rishmond suddenly became aware of the sound of running water. Looking about he located its source. More than half of one side wall of the room had water running down it, a solid flow that coated almost the entire wall in water flowing from the ceiling to the floor. Curiosity overcame him and he stood, facing that wall. Along the base of that wall was a shallow, narrow trench into which the water flowed. A sort of very low wooden bench ran along the length of the trench, dark gray cushions topped the bench. He watched as Ueet crossed to the water wall and knelt upon the low bench. He leaned forward and scooped two handfuls of water from the trench and splashed his face carefully. One of the Altemen attendees slithered up to him and handed him a small gray towel.

"We should all prepare now." Elder Geriswald spoke from the end of the sleeping pallet Rishmond sat on with Cantor and Illiar. "We should each cleanse the dust and dirt from our travels from ourselves and with it our worldly concerns and impurities. It is the ritual before we sleep. Then we will change into clean robes to sleep. In the morning we will enter the shrine dressed only in clean, fresh robes." He gestured to a corner of the room where a gray curtain hung from the ceiling to the floor creating a small area cut off from the rest of the room. "A changing area has been setup for those who may want a bit more privacy to change."

Rishmond noted that Elder Geriswald had replaced the clothes he'd been wearing with a soft grey robe with long roomy sleeves. Two Altemen slithered up and held out gray bundles of cloth to each of them. They all took the proffered bundles.

"Come ladies, let's get changed," said Rosa, "This area seems like a great place to bed down for the night, so you can remove your weapons and things and leave them here with your packs. The floor is actually warm, so you can remove your boots if you like, slippers are provided and you will have to leave your boots here when we go into the shrine." Rosa proceeded to remove her boots, she'd already removed her armor and weapon belt. She stood and moved to the next row of beds just across the narrow walkway at the head of the pallets they were sat upon. She deposited her boots in the storage box at a pallet there. "You men get to change out here in front of each other." She pushed Tybour over with one bare foot, smiling broadly at him.

Illiar and Cantor both slipped off their boots and socks, both of them lowering their feet to the floor carefully and slowly. Rishmond couldn't tell if their careful action was in anticipation of the metal floor being cold, or it being made of kreleit. Rosa standing there on the floor in her bare feet encouraged them and they both touched the floor at the same time. The look of surprise on both of their faces made Rishmond laugh, which he regretted immediately as both women shot him angry looks. 

"No no! I wasn't laughing at you! I mean, yes, but it was the look, both of you.. the same look... at the same time. Its' just that you're both so beautiful! And that look! At the same time!..." Rishmond trailed off realising he was not making it better. "Sorry." 

He removed his boots and socks quickly under their disapproving gazes, practically slamming his bare feet upon the floor. It was warm! And oddly soft feeling. He looked down quickly to make sure a towel or something wasn't under his feet. He heard the scoff from both women before he realized that the surprise showed clearly on his face. He began to protest but stopped himself as the three women turned and began to make their way across the room to the curtained off changing area in the corner.

Rishmond stood and turned to face Tybour, "What did I do?"

Tybour just smiled a wry smile the same way he always did when Rishmond did something wrong that he should have known better than to do. Tybour shook his head and began to disrobe.

Rishmond glanced around the room self-consciously. He couldn't just remove his clothes here in front of everyone. It wasn't that he was shy, but the birthmark on his back would mark him instantly. He knew the people here weren't as strict or paranoid about birthmarks as those back in The Arrangement, but he had been careful for years. Not even Beritrude and Halmond knew of the wing-like marks across his back. Toby knew. His mind flew back to his best friend, his brother in all but blood. He hoped he was doing well. He knew Berti and Halmond were taking the best care of him. 

Tybour had already stripped to his linen underpants and true to his slightly narcissistic tendencies, he stood there flexing a bit, looking down at his oddly hairless chest. Rishmond couldn't help but admire his form. He was muscular but slim. Rishmond wondered if he used some magic to keep himself so smoothly hairless. 

Tybour raised one eyebrow and caught Rishmond's eyes. Rishmond realised he'd been staring for longer than he rightly should have. Damn it. How could that man make him feel embarrassed for no reason. He averted his gaze quickly, his eyes falling on the back end of Haningway at the pallet behind Tybour, bending over to pick up his socks. That was a vision Rishmond did not need, Haningway was not hairless, not by a long shot. 

Rishmond spun on his heel as he pulled his tunic over his head. He'd just have to leave his undershirt on, it was made of good quality cotton and it was thick and heavy, it would conceal his very large birthmark. The tunic cleared his head and the room around him was revealed. Several Altemen were in various states of undress, all of them muscular and well built. Movement drew his attention to a singular form standing about halfway across the room. It took a moment for his brain to register what he was looking at. Shoulder-length brown hair, olive skin,  and naked female breasts. Rishmond froze in place, unable to take his eyes from the Wizard Semmolee Turnsol. She was a beautiful woman and Rishmond couldn't tear his eyes from her nearly naked body. She dropped her shirt to the sleeping pallet next to her and turned to retrieve the gray robe folded neatly there. Rishmond noted she wore the white cotton shorts that almost every soldier he'd ever known wore, square cut with legs that reached down to mid-thigh. He couldn't swallow or move. When did she join the group? She wasn't with them on the elevator was she? Why was she not behind the curtain with Rosa, Cantor, and Illiar?

The sudden thought of Cantor and Illiar brought him to his senses and he tore his eyes from her. He spun back around toward Tybour. He was there grinning like and idiot. He'd seen Semmolee and he'd seen Rishmond see her. Rishmond's panicked gaze swung about the room. Haningway smiled back at him, it was clear he'd also observed Rishmond staring at Semmolee for entirely too long. Ueet, Bantore, it was obvious they'd both noticed as well. Rishmond had nowhere to turn.

Heat rose in his face, he knew he was turning bright red. It was one thing for Tybour to know, he'd certainly tease him about this for days, but for everyone else to know as well.. he'd be catching hell for this. There was no way Illiar and Cantor wouldn't find out. And Rosa too. He wouldn't be able to talk to any of them without turning red for days! Why did Semmolee change out here? Why'd he have to stare so very long? The image of her bare breasts popped back into his head in vivid detail and he felt his heartbeat quicken and the heat in his face intensify.

Rishmond pulled the gray robe on over his head, hiding his embarrassment at least for a moment. He concentrated on the feel of the rough material, not scratchy really, but rougher than the soft cotton and wool he was used to. When he looked back around and only Tybour was still looking in his direction.

"Hey. It's all good Rishmond," said Tybour quietly, stepping nearer. "No one will say anything." Tybour's head bent nearer. "Well, not around anyone but us guys...." Tybour wrapped an arm around Rishmond's shoulders, turning to look in Haningway and Ueet's direction. "Not everyone," Tybour said loud enough to be heard across the room,"is comfortable showing such ribs that stick out of a skinny chest like that!"

"LIke a badly shaved thwippit!" guffawed Haningway, slapping Bantore on the shoulder. The big foxman didn't even budge but he smiled and a low growl escaped his lips. 

For a moment Rishmond was confused. "We'll cover for you," whispered Tybour, "but expect to catch hell when we are alone. Also, perhaps don't be caught alone with Bantore for a couple of days."

"In the tribes of Uhl," said Ueet, his voice as droll as ever, "we have a musical instrument made of wooden sticks that your chest and ribs remind me very much of. It is not the most pleasant sounding instrument."

All of the men that seemed in on Rishmond's predicament looked at Ueet with odd looks. 

"Its name in Qoitiken means breasts of death and it is most often played at funerals.

All of the men now surrounding Rishmond broke into raucous laughter, even Bantor guffawed. 

Moments later they were joined by Rosa, Illiar, and Cantor. "What's so funny?" asked Cantor as they placed their things in the storage boxes at the ends of the sleeping pallets.

"Just Ueet being Ueet," said Tybour. "He was telling us ribald stories all about how he lost his virginity to a very old ulbanto herder woman when he was just but a boy of 22 turns."

"I only told that story in response to Tybour's story about his first time with a 22 turns old wash rag just last year." Ueet's almost monotone voice made his statement even funnier to the men gathered around. 

"Yes, well, boys always talk about their greatest sexual conquests around other boys. Something for you to know ladies. And it is guaranteed the stories are much enhanced to make the boys in them seem better than they are." Rosa's voice was disapproving. All three women shared exasperated looks. 

"Fold your clothes and put them in the storage boxes, don't expect we will be doing that for you," said Illiar, reminding Rishmond of the days when she looked after Toby and himself. He'd thought her bossy and impossible back then. It seemed so long ago now even though it was just last turn.

Each man turned and did as they'd been told.

Everyone in the room gathered at Elder Geriswald's direction and knelt at the edge of the trough where the water flowed down the wall and was carried away. They washed their hands, arms and faces. The water was pure and cold and Rishmond felt much better after.

"Make your way to your pallets and sleep now. We'll rise early and enter the shrine tomorrow. The experience cannot be explained but it will be intense. The concentration of magic in the shrine is quite great, it is the greatest we know of on Rit, it can be overwhelming if you aren't prepared. Even if you are prepared it can be more than some can handle, more than one person has had to be carried from the shrine after passing out. The magic is not dangerous so much as just intense. I must caution you against attempting any magic use while in the shrine." Elder Geriswald addressed the group of non-Altemen. "We will hope the God's are in a listening mood. Perhaps we will again talk with them now." He turned to Torg. "Perhaps we have found what we have long searched and hoped for."

Rishmond slept better and deeper that night than he had since the expedition left Retinor. His eyes opened on a darkened room, most of the lanterns had been extinguished once they's all gotten to their sleeping pallets. Illiar and Cantor had taken the pallets to either side of his, Rosa and Tybour had taken the two on the far side of Cantor. Much to Rishmond's consternation, Bantore had taken the pallet just across the narrow aisle at the head of his own pallet, the large storage box between them was the only saving grace to that arrangement. Rishmond was unsure why that should make him so nervous, it wasn't as if he'd been trying to share a bed with Illiar, or anyone else for that matter, but the incident with Semmolee had changed the big foxman's attitude toward Rishmond, or at least that is how it seemed to him. Like the big man was angry and watching Rishmond's every move.

Rishmond sat up. He appeared to be the first in the room to do so, except for the two Altemen stationed at each door on either side of the room. Each stood in a small pool of light from lanterns hung above the doors. The two men were not the same as those standing guard last night. Once again Rishmond wondered at the need for guards on the doors, did they expect wild kathtwips to try and sneak into the room? 

Torg stood at the foot of his pallet next to the storage box. It was odd to see the magic inside of him as so much light and yet none of that light be shed on anything in the room. Sometime Rishmond wondered exactly what others saw. He knew others could feel the magic coming from the little crystal golem, but did others just see a dark rocky form? That seemed oddly sad to him, that they couldn't see the beauty of his magical light.

"Rishmond?" Cantor sat up and said his name sleepily. 

"Morning, Cantor." He spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb the quiet of the room. Only the sound of water and quiet breathing of those still sleeping around them.

"Are you... ready for this today?" Cantor's voice was quiet and held a tenseness. Rishmond thought perhaps she was worried about what they'd experience in the shrine. 

"It's gonna be fine. Tybour's been through this before. If there was anything to be concerned about, he'd of told us. Rosa's been there too and she's not worried." Rishmond leaned over and reached for Cantor's hand, their fingers closing over each others. "Whatever it is, I know you can handle it. You've always been tough, and you know I will be there for you."

"I wasn't worried for me, Rishmond. I think Tybour, and everyone else... they expect a lot from you. I know you can do whatever is needed, but it's a lot to expect from you and I worry that it might... well... bother you?" She said the last bit as a question.

Rishmond considered for a moment. He hadn't thought anything about anyone expecting anything from him. Perhaps they did. He was just here because Torg needed to be here, right? Of course. And even if they did expect something from him it couldn't be all that much. He was just a kid, old enough to be considered an adult he guessed, but not important and not someone anyone expected great things from. Sure, they expected him to do what he had to, but if any greatness needed to be done there were plenty of others that would fill those roles. Tybour would be the one who had to do anything great. He was the First Mage of Maliminar and he'd be the first one to tell you that he was the one to save the world or do great things. And he was right, Tybour was the great one. Rishmond was just along for the ride, happy to contribute and support.

"Alright everyone!" Tybour's voice boomed across the room. "Time to get up! Let's get going!"

Quiet breathing quickly turned to the sounds of people rising from their pallets and preparing to leave. In a matter of minutes the entire group had gathered near the shrine door. "We will return here for breakfast after we have completed our visit to the shrine. Its not recommended to enter the shrine with a full belly."

The door was pushed open, rotating on its center axis like the door they'd entered through. The feel of magic returned suddenly and with shocking intensity. Rishmond felt as if all of his senses were on overload, so much so he couldn't differentiate between smell and sound or sight and feeling, everything was jumbled together. It was unlike anything he'd every experienced in his life.  He thought he could feel Cantor's and Illiar's hands in his, they'd joined hands before the door was opened but even that was not certain in his mind. 

Tybour's voice drifted into focus through the noise, "Close your eyes, it helps. Concentrate on one sound, the sound of my voice, try to push everything else to the back of your mind. Breathe through your nose, slowly, deeply, calm your body. The shock will lessen and pass. Let it roll over you, don't get caught up in the noise." 

Rishmond concentrated on Tybour's voice. He let everything else slide around him, careful to not pay attention to any of it. He could feel Cantor's hand in his, gripping him tightly. Illiar's hand was in his other hand, warm and strong, gipping tightly as well. The cacophony began to lessen, his eyes were still shut tight. Did it mean anything that he felt Cantor's hand first? The stray thought was unbidden and it struck Rishmond as quite an odd thought to have at this time.

"Rishmond?" Illiar's voice was close to his ear and she sounded worried. "Rishmond, are you ok?"

He opened his eyes. Green light poured through the now completely open door to the shrine. People were passing through the doorway. He was still standing, that surprised him. Tybour stood just in front of him, Cantor and Illiar still held his hands and both women looked at him with concern.

"I'm... I'm good now." His voice sounded odd in his own ears, like it came through a tunnel. The assault on his senses had reduced to a dull roar in the background now and even that was growing quieter by the second. It dawned on Rishmond that what was on the other side of that door was something amazing and not to be missed. His curiosity pushed his anxiety and fear away and his eyes widened and his heart quickened.

"I'm good. Let's go! I can't wait to see what's on the other side!"

They made their way to the door and through it.

The green light of glowing glittergreen illuminated the entire cavern. The yellow-white glow of the God lights was completely drowned out by the green of the glittergreen. Even the floor had large chunks of the green crystal in it, cut and smoothed to walk upon. The floor stretched smooth and even several yards to the edge of the chasm. A mist hung there in the chasm, painted green by the glow of the crystal, it moved and billowed like a living, breathing thing. A constant breeze blew lightly but persistently across the floor toward the chasm and down over the edge. Rishmond noted the two metal ladders descending from the ceiling to the floor's edge at the chasm, the old method of access to the various floors of the mine.

Across the open chasm glittergreen glowed in the shear wall, much of it obscured by the waterfall spilling down the far side into the chasm below, the apparent source of the mist capping the open gap. The waterfall itself seemed to glow green from the crystal behind and near it. The sight was awe inspiring, a glowing green curtain falling to the depths below.

The whispers returned as Rishmond took in the awesome sight of the shrine. "Accept your purpose. Help us. Bring back order." The words floated in and out of Rishmond's mind. 

Rishmond wanted to ask Tybour about the words whispered in his head but the First Mage had already moved across the open floor to a number of low, backless benches set before a promnitory that jutted out a few feet over the chasm, a bright dias sat at the end of the rock outcropping some three or four feet higher than the floor. The billowing green-lit mist ebbed and flowed around the disk making it look as if it sometimes floated above the mist, disconnected from the chamber. Three wide, shallow steps led up to the four foot wide circle. Gold and white statues stood to either side of the walkway to the dias, a female form on the left and a male form on the right, each stood about five feet in height. The whole place definitely fit Rishmond's definition of a shrine, the statues must be of two of the Gods but Rishmond was not sure which.

The few Altemen priests and guards that had accompanied them had already taken their places around the shrine. Elder Geriswald stood just to one side of the start of the promnitory, just beyond the front most benches. One of the Altemen led Rishmond, Cantor, Illiar, and Torg down the middle aisle between the benches right up to the front. Rishmond turned to sit but was ushered forward by the Altemen to stand next to Elder Geriswald. Rishmond watched as everyone else seated themselves on the stone benches. He was acutely aware of all eyes on him. Torg moved forward of his own accord proceeding up the promnitory all the way to the first step up to the dias.

Elder Geriswald turned toward the dias and gestured for Rishmond to do the same.

As if on cue, the waterfall rippled and the light changed. Rishmond watched, fascinated as a shape appeared in the waterfall, slowly resolving itself into a form Rishmond recognised. The vision in the waterfall was the same as the painted fresco he'd seen in Denisisie's sanctuary near Rit, where he'd discovered Torg, an imposing, beautiful woman with long, dark, curly hair, olive skin and golden feathered wings spread behind her. Rishmond watched as Torg bent low in an odd, stiff bow. Gasps rose from behind him and Elder Geriswald next to him bowed in that odd way the snake-people had, tilting their entire upper body at an impossible angle. Rishmond reacted late but then executed an awkward bow, his left arm half extended and his right across his waist.

"We haven't much time, the barrier is thin here, but reaching through it is dangerous and exposes Rit to many dangers. We will dispense with the formalities." The voice was powerful and melodious and filled the entire space, it took Rishmond a full second to realize that the voice came from the vision in the falls across the chasm.

"Rise children, do not be afraid. Your Gods have waited for this moment for a long time. Hundreds of your turns. It is time now, events have been set in motion and our journey begins in earnest now." Rishmond watched Elder Geriswald out of the corner of his eye. The man remained bent over and was even lower now than before, his forehead nearly touching the ground. Rishmond didn't think this was normal or expected. Were they actually speaking with the Goddess Denisisie?! He dared to look around, keeping his head down, all of the Altemen were like the Elder, those that hadn't prostrated themselves completely upon the floor. Tybour was just visible in Rishmond's eyesight, he'd fallen to one knee, his head bowed and his hands tight against his body.

"Come children, enough. Stand, attend your Gods and heed our words."

Rishmond raised his head to look at the larger than life vision of the Goddess in the water falling across the chasm. His eyes met hers, or seemed to. She smiled and Rishmond was certain she could see him, and that she was focused on him.

"Wizard Rishmond, thank you for bringing Torg to me and for undertaking the task to get him here, and thank you for your dedication and willingness to make sacrifices and work so hard to get here. You have pleased us."

Rishmond noted movement behind the Goddess, several shadowy figures, indistinct  like they were hidden by the mist of the waterfall.

"As grateful as we are, we request further service from you Rishmond. We need a champion. One powerful in magic and dedicated in heart and soul. We have chosen to ask you to be that champion. Are you willing to serve? Will you help us save the world Wizard Rishmond?"

Rishmond stood up and took a surprised step backward. That the Goddess would know his name! Of course she would, she's a Goddess. But that she seemed to know him, had plans for him. Asked him to serve. Save the world? How could he do that?

"I.. I'm not.. I don't think. Are you sure you have the right person?... Goddess?" He was unsure of how to address her properly, was that correct? Her Highness maybe?

"Step forward Wizard Rishmond. Up on the platform so we can see and address you properly please."

Torg had come down from the first step up to the platform and was standing near to Rishmond. "Come Wizard Rishmond. Do not be afraid, my mistress needs to address you. I will be right here with you." The little golem lifted one hand toward him. Rishmond reached back, taking his oddly warm hand in his. Torg guided him to the steps stopping again before the first step, gesturing for Rishmond to continue up to the circle of marble at the top of the shallow steps.

Rishmond stepped onto the dais, looking down at his feet as he did so. The circle of stone lit up, a gentle soft light, Rishmond felt a soft vibration coming through the stone like a hum. He stepped to the middle of the circle and the sounds of the shrine fell away, the sound of falling water and the steady breeze blowing disappeared. Rishmond looked up at the giant aspect of the Goddess Denisisie before him, she stood twenty feet tall at least, the shadowy figures behind her sharpened but did not become clear. The male shadow immediately to her right and behind her wore a golden circlet on his forehead, a bright point of white light in the middle appeared like a shining diamond, his face was still blurry and in shadowed.

"The others cannot hear us, they will receive their own questions and instructions. For you Rishmond, there is only one question. Will you accept the task we lay before you? Will you travel to Bexxa'wyld, with your companions, and perform the Blessing ritual once again to set right what went wrong before?" 

Rishmond tried to wrap his brain around what was being asked of him. Travel to Bexxa'wyld? No one went there. According to all the lessons he'd ever had on the legendary retreat of the Gods, any who'd ever tried to go there since the Blessing had never returned. Any mortal attempting to enter the fortress was killed before getting in or went in and never returned.

"Goddess," Rishmond hesitated. Dare he question a Goddess? Directly to her face even? "I'm not sure I can do what you ask. It's not that I don't want to, but I don't have what it would take. I'm just a kid from The Arrangement of Peace. I'm not special. There are others that are much more able to do what you need..." He trailed off at her smile. It seemed so kind. She must understand. "Tybour would be a much better choice." The kindness in her face made him feel like he was just talking to Beritrude or Cantor's Mom. Of course she understood. She's a Goddess. She'd pick Tybour and he'd say yes and he'd save the world. Rishmond would go along to help, supporting Tybour in whatever he needed, but Tybour would be the one to lead, the one to make the right decisions, like he always did.

"Very well Wizard Rishmond. Your answer has been given and we will all live or die by it. Only one step is left before we begin."

Sound changed once again, the waterfall roar and gentle wind noise returned, with it came the murmur of people talking amongst themselves. Rishmond turned to look upon his friends, all gathered now in the space between the benches and the statues at the entry to the promnitry to the platform he stood upon. His gaze landed on Cantor and Illiar, they both looked up toward him, concern on their faces. He smiled and waved self-consciously, his hand down by his side, waist level. They smiled back and each raised a hand in a trepedicious return wave. His gaze fell on Tybour, the man's face was set as if he was annoyed or angry. Rishmond was taken aback for a moment. What had happened while he was talking with Denisisie? What was wrong? He attempted to cross the platform to the steps down but found himself unable to move.

The voice of the Goddess rang out across the cavern again, "The question has been asked and answered and now judgement will be passed and worthiness assessed. Rishmond, you will be judged now by the light of Truth, may you be found worthy."

The light of the circle of stone beneath Rishmond's feet changed once again the gentle glow replaced with harsh, bright, white light, the hum Rishmond had felt since stepping onto the platform intensified, growing to more than a feeling, now a buzzing sound like a million angry wasps. Rishmond watched as his friends all seemed to rush forward toward him, then they slowed as if they were attempting to slog through thick swamp muck. Rishmond didn't understand. He smelled cinnamon, soap, evergreen and a multitude of other scents, too many to sort. His feet were glued in place. His mind grew fuzzy and it felt as if all the air was being pulled from his lungs. His chest felt tight like he was being squeezed by a cantaboa. Bright light filled his vision.

All of Rishmond's friends and companions watched as a searing bright beam of light fell from above onto Rishmond and the platform he stood upon. Popping sounds and bright sparks of green and gold exploded throughout the cavern. The light engulfed Rishmond until they could only see the shadowy form of him through the bright light. Tybour was the first to reach the steps to the platform. He dove toward Rishmond only to be stopped short by an invisible wall at the edge of the light. He watched helpless as the shadowy form of his friend and charge seemed to slowly dissolve, breaking apart in chunks that floated up, continuing to break up into smaller and smaller bits. Moments later the entire shadowy form was gone and the light flashed out.

The cavern was plunged into darkness, the contrast between the extreme light a moment before and the almost complete darkness now blined everyone. Even the Altemen with their excellent night vision took several seconds to adjust. The glow of the numerous glittergreen crystals was completely gone. The glow of lotret and lotrar were also gone, only the soft yellow-white light of the God lights remained, leaving the cavern much darker than before.

Tybour recovered quickly, scrambling onto the platform looking for Rishmond. He was nowhere to be found, only a small grey mound of ash remained and that was quickly blown over the edge of the platform into the abyss below. What in all hells had just happened? The ash could not be Rishmond's remains. Gods didn't kill mortals. Was this the judgement Denisisie had spoken of? What could Rishmond have done to deserve this? He was a good man. No. There must be a different explanation. This could not be.

Torg! Tybour spun to where the crystal golem still stood at the base of the steps up to the platform. "Torg!" he yelled! "Torg! What the hell happened?!"

The little golem didn't move or speak. Tybour realized that the flow and spark of magic he'd always been able to see in him was gone. He moved closer. The golem was motionless. No spark of magic, nor flow within his body. He was just a hunk of rock, unanimated and unresponsive. 

Tybour looked around. The incredible amount of magic, both free-magic and the flow from deep within Rit was gone. It was as if magic had never existed. He reached out to find the magic that was always there. Nothing. He reached out further, searching for the magic of Rit, finally near the limit of his reach he was able to feel something, a distant faraway feeling like the memory of water in a desert.  All of the immense amount of magic in this place was gone, like it had all been used or taken.

Apparently the Gods had spoken, and judged, harshly and with extreme prejudice.