Role

Chapter 2

INSIGHT....
Added Sun Mar 28 19:42:47 2004 at level 11:

None now live who can finish the story of Caelestis Jol'rael, but the gods themselves. Sif'um, sister
to Caelestis, herself knows quite well the fate of the young Storm who would one day rise to
become a paladin, because it was Sif'um, afterall, who interposed herself between Caelestis and
his chosen destiny ... it was Sif'um that planted the irreconcilable seed of doubt in Caelestis's mind
that would force him to undertake his quest. Suffice it to say, that in his campaign against the
Sahaugin, Caelestis had become cognizant of an evil that other mortals could not even begin to
fathom. He had come to realize that the incessant warfare in these regions had awakened
something malevolent ... but what it was exactly he could not say.

Caelestis ignored the call of his own people and set out on a great quest to track down the source
of this evil. Over the years, as he wandered the lands surrounding the Jol'rael territories, he bore
witness to the destruction of ongoing warfare and to the desperation of fallen barbarian tribes who
were now nothing more than starving weather-beaten vagabonds.
One day, just when he had begun to give up hope, he was making his way over the spine of a great
mountain range, looking for a place to shelter when he smelled roasting meat. Soon thereafter, he
came upon a small cave, where a fire burned within. He made his way tentatively through the
opening only to discover that the cavern was occupied by a figure covered in robes, who was
crouched against the corner of one wall observing him from the shadows.
He tightened the grip on his sword, expecting the worse. The hooded figure then stepped forward
into the light and unsheathed a weapon the likes of which only the dead had borne witness, a
massive double-edged blade of white metal supported by an equally massive metallic hilt all of
which inlaiden with precious jewels. His eyes widened and he wondered for an instant if he
had wandered into the wrong cave.
The hooded figure, looked him up and down, then spoke to him, "It is customary among your
people to offer hospitality to those who are in need of refuge or shelter." "You are not of my people,"
Caelestis pointed out, still holding his sword ready. The figure took a step forward and his robes
parted to reveal metallic armor that flowed over his torso and arms like a watery skin, "That much at
least is certain." The figure paused, looking him over again, his posture, his weapon, his gear. "I
thought at first that you might have been following me. Hmmm ... you are obviously a warrior of
some experience, but," and he laughed arrogantly at some private joke. He moved on, "You have
the look of someone who has been abroad for some time, years even. Are you the last of some
fallen horde, some fallen people?" Caelestis gripped his sword tightly against the accusation, "I am
no vagabond ... I am Caelestis Jol'rael of the Jarnish peoples, Son of King Jol'rael." Caelestis
looked over his massive weapon once again and he marvelled at it. The hooded figure caught his
gaze with his eyes and held it, "You have wandered these lands, seeking something, ever watchful,
but always, it eludes you. I too am in search of something. It seems we seek the same thing, you
and I. Yes, it is Stormtreader that has brought you before me. You are the first to hear its c