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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with a great story from Elgarion De’Kahli, entitled
Catching one’s Breath
Background music is by Smartsound

As the old sorcerer Elgarion hobbled his way down the moss speckled cobblestone road of the now familiar PaxLair, a pause in his progress always seemed to occur alongside the path leading from the road to the fabled Church of the Dark Star. Elgarion’s hesitation was oft interpreted as a respite by those passing, as then he usually leaned heavily upon his cane or a nearby fence post. His aged eyes peered through wrinkled lids and took in the Church’s visage. The venerable and weary traveler’s mind would always spin with curiosity about what lay within the seemingly unforboding structure and what promising resources of knowledge must exist inside.

In Elgarion’s time before his imprisonment hundreds of years before this day, in his homeland of Kahli of the Hidden Vale, those daring enough to worship Chaos or entities of that sort never did so openly fearing persecution or condemnation. Forced into the shadows they were, to worship in secret. Yet no matter how pious or filled with light the peoples of Kahli might have been, no matter how faithful their devotions proved towards Artenius the Seventh Son of the Original Touch, their dedication to this deity of Order did not save them from their sufferings to come.

Now, however, his world had changed. What was once feared or scorned now brought little worry to commoners nor did there seem to be open hatred of such activities. He would never have guessed that beings of Chaos could coexist alongside disciples of Order, but alas, there were a great many things which surprised him upon his travels each and every day in this familiar yet foreign world of New Britannia.

Still not taking the courage to enter and once again deciding against extending his vulnerabilities and pleas for aid to a servant of Chaos, Elgarion continued upon his way. As the months passed, the path would often guide the old man to the Church of the Dark Star, and the considerations for seeking council with the High Priestess grew with each respite. Perhaps one day, the old sorcerer would knock upon the heavy oaken door. Surely Artenius, even then would guide him to the Truth and protect him from the evil which his peoples so feared and perhaps misunderstood.

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