Submitted by Zog the LongWinded Fishmonger:

Well, there I be, newly returned from the lands of the dead, still hungry fer somethin' besides yet another stinkin', briny, fishstick. I hoped that Empath Abbey got me last letter, but worry could wait 'til hunger was assuaged.

Sausage suddenly appealed to me.

Nothing could beat the pizza's Luigi bakes on the ol' brick oven, though. Offs ta Paxlair I was, whistlin' the merry tune 'I'm a Cow'.

Guess you hae to hear that one ta get it. It's worth askin' around, says I!.

Anyhew, a woodland nymph approached me on the forest trail as I continued on. Fair and tall she was, covered in nary a leaf!. Truly a sight fer sore eyes, she was. "Zog," she said sweetly, "be ready for the task to come - I have gathered these for you." She handed me a pouch filled with hundreds of each reagent, a crystal, some ale, and some type of muscle penetrating poultice. I touched the crystal lightly, realizing the spirit world was agitated, again at Paxlair.

I entered the welcoming atmosphere of Luigi's Tavern, located immediately North of the Paxlair Bell Towers. The pub was full of adventurers, once again gathering, as usual, during the evening hours on Tuesday. Visago, in his trademark feathered cap, Luthien, a rare Elven Lord who visits human towns at times, were calmly discussing possibilities of where to go at a corner table.

Luigi was filling everyones plate with fine victuals and rare and exquisite spirits. Monk, a brave and capable Warrior, was discussing guild matters with Hong-Kong Fooey - both looked up in shock as Drizzt walked in. I immediately wondered why Luthien and the Drow Drizzt didn't join battle in the Arena, but, after all, Luigi's is a place open to all sorts, even angels. I shrugged off my worries and greeted Winmere, tracking Fetch in the shadows out of the corner of my eye as Winmere and I spoke. I sensed that Hong-Kong contained arcane energies of great magnitude, but sensed something beyond his aura that puzzled me.

Yes. There it was, again. Faintly glowing in the corner, barely visible behind some boxes Luigi uses to store his baking ingredients: The GateKeeper. The spirit that has arisen from the Underworld, often appearing at pivotal times, crossing points, when times can change, the balance shift. Winmere shuddered, trembling slightly, for she knew that its presence here meant once again that the eternal struggle between forces of light and dark would place mortals at risk, mere puppets acting on behalf of greater powers.

As the light faded to gloom, and hearty appetites were lost, and suddenly stronger drink became more popular, the GateKeeper drifted forward. I pulled out the Nymph's crystal, and did then commune with that cold wraith. It had much to say, more so than ever in it's shadowy past. It wailed, and screeched, and howled as the light grew even dimmer. Luigi stoked the fires as I passed along the information contained in the ghost's moaning monologue.

It sent to all in the room an image, one projected into the mind itself. It was an image of a town where shops stood above the ground. It asked us if we did know of this place. In my haze, I heard one of the adventurers speak of Papua. He was correct. A second image was projected, of a place where the light never dims, by night or day, and is upheld by the machinations of man. A lighthouse, it was. Another projection: Humility. Those who undertake a long journey, and do so with Humility - must walk with piety in their hearts. Emotion: Danger, Fear, Courage - Hope!. It is often difficult to describe how the GateKeeper can effect the emotions of mortals. Images were painted within the mind, of battle, pain, blood - the horrors of war all come true. Finally, the image of a tome formed. A book, long undiscovered, unknown to all, in a lonely place. The lighthouse.

The group puzzled over these images, concluding that a journey must begin in Papua, crossing jungle and desert with Humility, vanquishing the horrors that would beset them and challenge their passage to the lighthouse. To find a tome of ancient design. To undertake a spirit journey. To face a trial of courage, a test of virtue.

The group set out, the Ghostly presence of the GateKeeper flittering around them as they travelled. Did it do so to watch in glee as they fell into death, or celebrate victory if it occurred - who can say?.

The party set forth. Orc Scouts rained down arrows, Lords bashing warriors, Grunts backstabbing if given a cowardly opportunity. The rope bridge over the Gorge of Peril was crossed. Stone Gargoyles fell, and Harpies plummeted from the skies. Scorpions, imps, Wyverns - death visited with all. The group journeyed on, torn and bloody, defiance and determination shone from their eyes. Magics of healing and curing, destruction and death, cast forth as required as the fighters held the line, and archers stoically whittled the waves of horror down.

The stone walls of the twisting valleys rose far above their heads as they traveled secret pathways, and sought to escape the blistering rays of the desert sun. Finally the beacon was reached, and the book found by Drizzt, covered in goat filth at the bottom of a rotting, empty keg.

The group Gated, the wailings of the GateKeeper calling them back to Paxlair. Here once again Luigi wondered why this spirit haunted his establishment, quickly clearing furniture to enshrine that which was lost, and found again.

Luigi, patient and noble. Who cannot celebrate the worthy spirit his flesh carries?. Always laboring, ever-caring.

The GateKeeper had many more things to communicate - of adventures to come, artifacts to be discovered and placed with the others at the shrine. Of Prophecies, clues - the resolution of mysteries, the rebirth of Nobility - a new Monarch? A King? A Queen?. What of innocence, and the the absorption of true knowledge, wisdom?. At the crux: a child. An innocent being, with hair of gold, who must be taught by a Holy Man, educated regarding the problems which plague our realm. Of adventures to continue - a rallying cry shouted across the cities and towns of Sosaria to one and all, to bring aid, and quickly - be it might of arms, magik, or insight.

If you would be part of this quest, then make it so. You are sorely needed, for a great task awaits willing hands. The start of your part in this tale may be found in the writings of the tome, at Luigi's, in Paxlair. See to it!.

* a thought occurs *

Did not Korin the Scribe write of something last week, regarding a lost King?.

Finally, as I drank the ale from the Nymph's pouch, I realized what the poultice was for. Even now I enjoy the warmth as it spreads throughout my hands and wrists.

*grins*

Thank you for your time, I know this was long-winded.

Zog the Fishmonger

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