Midnight Hours

Every child knows the tale of Jarah, our ancient homeland far across the sea. Every year on the day of Landfall, the effigies of the old gods are brought forth and burned, while the bards tell of the folly of the elves, the hubris of the dwarves and the greed of men which brought that land low and our people to flee across the sea. The tale I tell, you've not heard before. With a little grace on my tongue, however, I might yet earn a bed for the night and an ale for my thirst, for you see, I tell the tales -between- the pages of the histories. Of my tales there are three to be told, and the choice I leave to you, my generous patrons:

The first, a tale of woe and misery, one of the fair folk, her fortunes fallen with her kingdom. This is the tale of Tsan the Breaker. It is not a happy tale, for the lives of elves, cast to the wind and blamed for the calamity of the world, was not an easy one in those times, but it -is- perhaps appropriate to the dark and stormy evening in which we find ourselves.

The second tale, out of gilded Raleigh, the city of spears, where we find the last of the Paladins, Mara the Bearer. Oh, some of you know Mara, perhaps you say a prayer to her shrine when you pass it? I would tell you a tale some might consider... blasphemous. Rest assured though, every word rings true, and to come to know it, is to come to know Mara.

The final tale, one of woven intrigue and mystery. A young girl, noble and brave, so dedicated to the unraveling of the mysteries of the universe that she unwittingly unleashes a dark truth upon her city. We follow Luna vi Salazin vi Erago vi Imil, the last Lady of the Eastern Tower, as she uncovers more truths than she had ever intended.