We are sad to report that on November 15th during a dinner meeting hosted by Lord Blackthorn, Governor Zalan of Yew was assassinated by a wraith while attempting to give his report on Yew. The assailant seemed to come after an enigmatic box recovered from the crypts of Yew. Employing magic within Lord Blackthorn’s castle, the wraith swiftly struck down Governor Zalan before taking the box and fleeing. Zalan showed no signs of life after his fall but was immediately rushed to the local healers for examination. Lord Blackthorn has sworn to address this injustice.
The following is an excerpt from an obscure, old book titled “Transdimensional Perception Through Sensory Interaction: Thoughts and Theories” by an unnamed scholar; a footnote relegated to an unimportant chapter near the back of the book.
“…and of course there are the old stories and jokes about the curious intelligence of many breeds of canine. Is it possible, perhaps, that a dog possesses a separate faculty altogether through which it perceives its surroundings, and other dogs? It is most unlikely, but this hypothesis would be consistent with recent research. For example, why does a dog chase its tail? Why does it bury bones? Why do dogs greet each other by sniffing each other’s posteriors? These are, of course, all questions which zoologists have answered, at least to their own satisfaction, yet this behavior may be better explained through transdimensional communication. A dog, of course, cannot speak. Thus any forms of communication must occur on a different plane.
The “K9″ dimension, as I have dubbed it, would accomplish precisely that. However, the implications of such a hypothesis extend well beyond such seemingly trivial matters as why dogs consume their own bodily waste. Indeed, if such a K9 dimension exists, it must follow that lifeforms native to it must also exist; that it must possess a form of some kind, and that Sosarian dogs, whether fully realized in the dimension or not, must at least be somehow connected to it in order to facilitate communication. Of course, being that this concerns dogs, this subject is of little importance, and it is highly doubtful that such a dimension truly exists precisely as described. Nevertheless, some form of transdimensional communication must be at play.”
[Commander Forthwin and Magister Rainard shall be present in Castle Blackthorn in the days prior to the Council meeting. Use the keyword “hello” to start the conversation to learn more about the current situation.]
The King of Britannia walked through the halls of Castle Blackthorn, his steps swift with purpose, his arms held behind his back, and his head tilted downward in contemplation. Around him, the muffled shouts of two men echoed throughout the typically quiet corridors. As his two arms thrust open the double doors into the parlor, the shouting suddenly became clear and loud.
“..and I’m telling you, Forthwin, if you break the seal, we will all be DOOMED!”
“Am I to presume, mage, that you want this evil to continue existing in our realm?!”
“Better that than the Kingdom cease to exist!”
“Preposterous! You cannot seriously expect–“
“Commander! Magister!” The sudden, commanding voice of the King brought Arthur Forthwin and Magister Rainard to silence. “Is this about the tomb?”
Magister Rainard immediately forward. “Your Majesty, I humbly ask that we do not disturb that tomb. It is presents a danger to the Kingdom.” No sooner had the words passed Rainard’s lips, did Forthwin interject. “And allow this evil to continue its existence? Are you mad?! Save ourselves, and doom a future generation?!”
Rainard rolled his eyes, having already heard these very arguments from the Commander, seemingly a thousand times. “Once again, these objects CAN be stored safely in His Majesty’s vault! Why resort to violence when we do not even have to?”
Pinching the bridge of his nose and gritting his teeth, Forthwin had all the appearances of an impatient man about to burst into a fit of shouting. But just as he began, “Rainard, you snivelling..,” did the King interrupt. “Enough!” The two fell silent again. The King spoke again.
“Commander. Magister. Return to your chambers. I have heard both of your sides already. I shall bring this matter to the Council for further discussion. And if they cannot come to a conclusion, then I will make a decision myself.” With that, the three men parted ways, and silence returned to the dark halls of Castle Blackthorn.
In the glow of candlelight, he sat in an old, creaky chair at a small desk of solid mahogany. Upon the desk he laid a heavy tome, freshly bound – its leather cover smooth to the touch; its pages crisp and carrying the enticing aroma of newness. Carefully, reverently, two fingers opened the cover, revealing the first page – blank.
A small smile.
Taking a quill in hand, he dabbed the tip in a jar of ink, and began to write:
The Legends of Ultima and the Dark Days of Sosaria.
A Story by Erebus
One morning, in the city of Trinsic, a paladin rose to train…
And so the man wrote, long into the night.