(Of course, Your Excellency is familiar with the package — the Jar of Sending, with which I shortly will try to convey this missive. At the time I did not know what it was, but I have since read your enclosed instructions.)
'We are pleased that you have come,' said Kassandry, her tone surprisingly gentle. She no longer seemed the commanding high priestess. Instead, she was like any young maiden, eager to make her honored guest feel welcome, and fearful that he will not find matters to his liking.
'I'm grateful for the invitation and the hospitality.'
She shook her head, as if I had missed the point. 'No! The story must be told. The world must learn of our discoveries.'
'It could be very important,' I agreed, taken aback by her passion.
'Everything will have meaning then. If only you can convince the historian that the gods have not abandoned us!'
To my surprise, then, she leaned toward me, took my gray head in her hands, and kissed me full upon the lips!
I must admit, Your Grace, that it has been many years since I have received the attentions of a young woman — not to mention one of such stunning beauty.
'Er… delightful,' I stammered, somewhat slow to respond, 'but I really… my task is to observe…' In retrospect, I find that my words were a trifle confused.
Her gaze burned into mine with a secret smile — a smile that kindled spiritual fires I had thought long extinguished. Fortunately (unfortunately?) Erasmoth called us to dinner just then.
We dined on rib of lamb, accompanied by spiced potatoes. Our meal was a most pleasurable experience, prepared and served by Erasmoth alone. Only the high priestess, the priest, and myself were seated at the wellladen table; the acolytes presumably shared some plainer fare elsewhere.
During the dinner, Erasmoth proved himself a gracious and charming host. He is well-educated, though he lacks the polish of formal schooling. By his accent, I place his home in Ergoth somewhere, though I gather from his remarks that he has been in nearly every part of Ansalon. He probably is the most well-traveled person I have met — outside of our own ranks, in any event.
His dinner was excellent — the meat delicately cooked, tender and succulent; the bread crusty and hot from the oven. His amusing remarks on the antics of his apprentices were delightful. I left his company — and that of the priestess — with true regret.
Now my bed has been prepared, and the weariness of the day's march propels me there. Nevertheless, my pulse quickens at the thought of the morrow, and the promised miracle. May we find proof that gods can work their powers upon Krynn I
I tremble with anticipation of the joyful news that might be contained in my next communication. Until then, Your Grace, I am your obedient slave:
Foryth Teel, Senior Scribe of Astinus
O Learned One:
A day has passed, and success! The priest has just pronounced me ready to bear witness at the inner sanctum of his temple! The activities of today have included exercises in meditative discipline and discussions with Erasmoth of the role of spiritual faith, which I quite enjoyed. We had a lively debate on the moral state of the Kingpriest prior to the Cataclysm and what effect, if any, that had on it. We debated the implications of the Newsea on trade in Ansalon.
I also spent time with Kassandry, and, though it was not so intellectual, it was no less stimulating, if Your Excellency understands my meaning. There was an air of desire — almost hunger — in her attitude toward me that, I confess, tempted me in ways I had thought long forgotten. I assure Your Grace that my impartiality remains intact, though her beauty and charm has put considerable strain on my sense of duty and discipline. Indeed, were I a younger man…
In any event, Excellency, the priest Erasmoth has agreed that tomorrow I will be given the opportunity to witness an actual demonstration of clerical powers!
He does not reveal the exact nature of the miracle he plans — nor even the nature of his god — but he has assured me that I will find it convincing. I am prepared for anything, hoping that soon I can relay a communication of truly historical import.
As to the strange globe you provided, Excellency, it seems to me that it functioned flawlessly. I inserted the letter into the jar as you instructed and screwed the top tightly in place, then I held it over the flame of a bright candle for a few seconds and — poof — the parchment vanished in a bright flash of light. I trust that it arrived safely in Your Great Library. Such a device has obvious advantages, Lord, in that it avoids the use of unreliable post. And, too, it allows me to report from locations where I must otherwise remain discreet. I will employ it in all future correspondence.
But that was last night. My day in this pastoral vale has passed swiftly, and once again it is after sunset that I relate my experiences to you now.
Those times I was not in the company of the priest or priestess I spent in contemplation beside the Mirror of Souls — a remarkably invigorating pastime.
Once again we dined sumptuously, just the three of us. Indeed, the valley has been empty most of the day, though toward sunset I witnessed a file of the brown-robed acolytes winding their way up the trail toward the gleaming arch of the temple gate. They go, Erasmoth informs me, to prepare for tomorrow's ceremony.
Kassandry was a delightful dining companion. She has not kissed me again, and I confess to a certain disappoint ment there — though, of course, her restraint does make my position of impartiality easier to maintain.
Until my next missive, Excellency, I remain loyal to the service of our cause! Your devoted servant of history:
Foryth Teel
Your Grace,
I inscribe this from the dizzying ledge that serves as portal to the temple, halfway up a mountain that is much steeper than it appeared from the valley. I steal a moment to inscribe some quick observations, prior to entering the stonewalled temple compound. I will endeavor to complete this later and send it to you by means of the magical device you provided to me.
Erasmoth himself led the procession to the gates of his temple. We stand beneath the alabaster arch, which looms high above, and wait for the priest to perform his incantations and gestures, all of which are rendered in a tongue indecipherable to myself. His apprentices, masked and silent, remain immobile while he performs his rites, with Kassandry at his side. Today the high priestess has been surprisingly aloof, and I wonder at the change in her attitude. She does not seem unfriendly, merely preoccupied.
I will spare you the details of the perilous ascent to the temple. Suffice to say that I survived by dint of concentration on the objective, with oft-repeated reminders to myself about the significance of the historian's role and the importance of diligence and integrity in research. I made it this far… and when we pass within the temple walls, at least the threat of a fatal fall will be removed!
The temple, which has been dedicated to the worship of Erasmoth's gods, looms above me. The walls are solid, smooth, and much higher than they appeared from below. Each is topped with an array of spikes resembling the bristling spears of a rank of soldiers. The towers that flank the gate are tall, and I sense the presence of watchful eyes observing me and my escort. When I asked him about this, however, Erasmoth assured me that the place is empty.
The gates themselves are impressive doors made of pure silver. Even to my untrained eye, the aura of power protecting them is visible; a hazy and ominous film sparkles from the metal, bidding the unwary or uninitiated to remain at bay.
'We may now enter,' Erasmoth announced.
The great gates swung soundlessly open, revealing a courtyard of dazzling white stone, with a beautiful fountain splashing just beyond the gate. The wondrous sight infused me with joy of discovery. We shall enter at once.
I hasten to close, Your Grace, with the hope that you will hear from me soon with the proof that our poor
