The shrine of Vellichor has been turned into a display area not unlike an art gallery. Tables clothed with Mirrorguard-themed linens are piled high with books, journals and other such written details about the lives of a great many forgotten heroes. The intention is clear: this is being released now to /everyone/ in the sight of Vellichor.

Refreshments are abundant and tons of cookies. The troves of tomes will remain for a few days and then be ushered to the Great Archives.

Eirene enters with Mihaly, the pair looking curious as to what this might entail. "Looks like a Ton of books and more books." She grins at him and they go to sit. "I guess we're writing things down, or having scholars inscribe them."

"Not too long ago, the Mirrorguard ventured out to loot as many shardhavens as possible to uncover as much of what Azazel stole and hid from the world as possible," Duarte tells those assembling - which explains the linens and standards and all the things that none too subtly suggest MIRRORGUARD DID THIS.

"It was, it turns out, one of Azazel's favorite pasttimes to take someone that died heroically and make it seem like they never existed. To make us feel like heroism did not exist, and to remove meaning from heroic sacrifices.

"So...fuck that guy and yay Vellichor! We are gathered here to celebrate these unremembered heroes - hundreds of forgotten for every one we've known. If you find any you particularly enjoy, please feel free to speak."

Jan slipa in quietly and moves to settle somewhere to the back and then she spots it. Cookies. Where there is food Jan will find herself and so she makes her way over to the cookies and helps herself to a few then retreats to somewhere out of the way.

Medeia, too, has become something of an art gallery. The lady has commissioned an ornately detailed outfit that is a testament to the bravery of the Mirrorguard members who collected these stories - she among them - and the tales of heroism recovered in the missions. Panels of the skirt of her gown feature vibrantly embroidered vignettes taken directly from the stories, and the lining of her cloak is all embroidered lettering of other texts recovered. Pinned to the cloak is a lovely mirrorsilver owl - a perspicacious one, even. She smiles warm, bright, inviting guests in to learn and share as they please. Even amid such dark times, there's a concerted but not inauthentic effort to be joyful. "Hello, everyone! Welcome. Please come in and don't be shy about reading through what we've made available here. These stories are vitally important!" You know, just a slightly more polite version of Duarte's greetings. She winks at him, and she steps toward a cookie platter, one might notice she has the Mirrorguard sigil ambroidered on her slippers.

From every angle, Mirari Corsetina glitters and gleams. Wearing a work of art and smithing, her gown incorporates thin pieces of mirrorsilver, that create vines growing up from the top before they slither down to the floor. A hundred emeralds stitched onto the top, makes the woman sparkle. But, a dress is just a dress, what is more is the woman that wears it. Always confident, there's something more, there's a look in the woman's eyes like she's quite capable of anything. It's dark, mysterious, and she looks ready to pounce at a moment's notice. Still, she presents herself with a delightful smirk, amused by everything around her. As the walks, there's a subtle music sound that comes from so much metal clanking together. Duarte gets an immediate smile, one that lingers enough to betray association. There's a nod of her head to the other host for the day, Medeia, too. Then Mirari says as her smirk twists into a self-satisfied grin, "I love causing shit for assholes!" Mega, mega assholes in this case.

Jan is overheard praising Medeia.

Titania moves into the shrine, one she has not visited much in the time she has been back, in the chaos of everything happening. She is dressed in her leather armor with starlight silk in many hues of blue tied into said armor. Her ocean blue eyes look around, perhaps a bit she as she stays near the back.

A prince amongst the crowd can be found sitting in one of the back tables and already thumbing through a journal as he listens to the others around him as they enter in. Deep blue eyes focus on Duarte and then Medeia when they both speak. Otherwise it seems Theo is keeping his own council and remaining quiet as he thumbs through the book he has in his hand.

1 Culler Boatswain, 2 Culler Midshipman arrive, following Samira.

There is nothing that goes better with research, reading, and sticking it to the man than cookies. When Miraya Corsetina arrives, it is not with glittering this or that or fancy here or there. It's with a refined swagger and grace that outshines the slick eel-skin ensemble that wraps about her fit form. Her long blonde hair is left loose, cascading down her back like a golden waterfall. She immediately spies her sister and makes her way to Mirari with a wily smirk set upon her face. "Do you now?" She teases. "Must be a family thing." Her smile broadens then she's looking for cookies. "Let's see what we have here...."

Jackie, Akkar, Northuldra, 2 Blackwood trained guards, Trihy, an unassuming and dapper dressed man arrive, following Cadern.

Duarte takes up a tome at random and holds it aloft. Then he lowers it before his gaze and thumbs through it. "This one was Sir Bram Reston. He was a knight sworn to the County of Oakhaven under Keaton. Bravely, he entered the Shadowwood with a group of others to rescue a kidnapped noble. He returned, but not with his mates, having rescued the nobleman that was his charge.

"Sir Bram Reston was eaten for too loudly telling the tale of what happened in the Shadowwood - magical things, and the abyssal monsters he faced. It flew in the face of the Despite. Azazel was then free to take him and his bravery from the world. Every bit of it...Please have a cookie in remembrance of Sir Bram Reston."

Mihaly is on Eirene's arm, his blindfold pulled over his eyes. "I can hear a lot of people, at the very least." he offers, going wherever his wife leads him to. "So we're here to listen to stories, I take it?"

For every cookie eaten, a cookie is replaced. It is either very symbolic or simply that way too many cookies were ordered.

Eirene takes a cookie and breaks it in half, sharing with Mihaly. "Sounds like," she replies to him. "I don't know any or my past lives so I prolly got nothin to share myself. Anyone I've not remembered is, well, forgotten."

Medeia gives Eirene and Mihaly a smile before looking over at Mirari and giving the woman a quietly mouthed 'thank you.' There's a tap of the owl pin before she finally gets a cookie and starts greeting people more earnestly. "Miraya, hello again! It's nice to see you. I apologize I had to depart so suddenly when last we met. I hope you find a story among these that inspires you." Then she is handing a cookie to Theo, without much else of a greeting. When Duarte speaks of Bram, she brightens and cheerily points to a panel on her skirt depicting exactly that story. "Look, see? He was a very skilled soldier, and his honor demanded he tell his liege the truth of what he saw and faced to rescue their daughter."

When Theo is handed a cookie by Medeia he smiles and accepts it and then looks to her skirt when she points out the story that Duarte just shared and there's a nod of his head in acknowledgement.

Catching sight of her sister, Mirari flashes an easy grin at Miraya, catching her comment. It makes the woman's emerald eyes sparkle like the ones on her gown. "It really ought to be on the family sigil," she winks at her. "We all do it so well," she adds, seeking a glass of wine, as she also looks at the cookies. Mirari is wearing a owl pin too, similar to what Medeia is wearing, and also Duarte. If anyone was looking close enough. "They all look good, best to try one of each to be sure." Catching the mouthed words from Medeia, Mirari smiles and glances over the woman's outfit and mouths, "stunning," back. Then she takes a sip of her red wine and looks ready to hear and probably share a few stories.

Samira makes an unobtrusive entrance, a late arrival to the event. Initially, she lingers on the outskirts of the crowd, trying to determine what she has missed thus far. The lure of cookies, though? That proves to be enough to entice her to move forward and actively join the group.

Jan munches on a cookie and glances around to see who will speak. She fidgets a bit anxiously for some reason.

"Do you have something to share, Lady Jan?" Duarte asks the fidgeting warrior with a warm, genial smile.

Titania l

Mihaly takes the other half of the cookie when it's placed into his hand. "Likewise. If I have past lives, I have no idea they did or who they were. I'd love to learn, but I have no way to help that process along." Sadly, he probably doesn't see Medeia, because well, he can't see.

Titania moves in a bit more when she spots Eirene and Mihaly come in, "Hello Lord Mihaly, Lady Eirene." she says softly, for some reason she just seems very shy at the moment.

Comedenti, the Calderan Bearded Vulture arrives, following Titus.

Jan's eyes widen widen and she looks over one shoulder and then the other then back to Duarte as if having hoped there was another Lady Jan "Ah. Not presently? The society of explorers has done considerable research and is in the process of re-cataloging monuments, places in history and to produce a map and to start to uncover these stories." The hand without cookies lifts and rubs the back of her neck "I may have been a metallic in a prior life. I recall the fall of Uanna and the state of Arvum changing over the spam of centuries, battles from the reckoning, and such but not in detail enough to be meaningful. If anyone has any ideas of how to reliably try to recover memories I can try but I'd put more money on the efforts of the society of explorers."

Eirene raises a hand to Titania and waves. "What's wrong," she asks at the woman's shyness. She looks at Jan and shrugs, "Sometimes my soul mending lets me tweak memories, access to old soul threads, but it's not exact and I haven't done it much." She doesn't elaborate on what that all means. Mihaly is smiles at even if he can't see. "All I can see of your soul is stars. It's really quite remarkable."

"Lady Titania, hello," Medeia greets the other woman before looking at Jan curiously. "How interesting! I know some people who might be able to help you recover some of that information, if you wish? It could unlock some... interesting things for you." Then she floats back toward the front of the shrine. "I have a story I could share that is /not/ among what we recovered. Some of you may already be familiar with it, especially if you've seen my journals recently. My own brother was killed by Azazel. I wish I knew why, but I'll assume he was a hero... Emilio Saik, he was twin to my older brother Estaban, who was able to remember him. From what I understand of Estaban's memory of Emilio, he was a member of the Inquisition." Some of her joy that she's been trying to maintain slips. "I named my eldest son Miklos for him, as a way to preserve the name in some form."

The sound of armour jostling quietly underneath cloak can be heard as a tall pale figure enters. The Warmonger glances around Vellichor's shrine, looking at all the objects related to heroes. Titus says in that decayed voice, "I heard there are stories being shared of heroes but I see Heroes of Today before me with still untold legends to be written. Exciting. Count Duarte, he who walks his own path. The exceptional Mirari. The Grayson General and savior of Astarrea, lady Eirene and the shield of the Twainfort lord Mihaly. The exceptional healer of hearts and bodies, lady Medeia. The rough talking and enemy slaying lady Jan. And more!"

"Thank you, Lady Jan," Duarte says warmly with a slight bow of his head.

He yields and listens to Medeia with rapt attention and no lack of affection. "Thank you, love." And he eats a cookie for Emilio

He takes up another of the journals and skims through it. "Dame East Westward, it seems, was devoured for seeking out an ancient book about primum. Tasked to this by her liege. But her history - and this is her journal - speaks to several acts of defiance against threats toward her home. How she singly fought off an entire cavalry of horsebacked raiders, protecting her keep from being pillaged and burned."

And then Titus walks in and gives such welcome acknowledgement to all that Duarte can't help but grin, and maybe blush a little. "Thank you, my lord. You are without peer in eloquence and too kind to boot. Would you wish to take a tome and put forth its story in the way only you know how? For Vellichor."

Jan bows her head to Eirene and Medeia "Only if it is useful. I am of the mind to assume if the gods meant for me to remember it-I'd remember. I can certainly deliver the catalog the society of explorers produces. I am sure it will be more expansive than anything I myself could offer."

Samira listens to the details Medeia shares, her expression solemn, a quiet ache for her friend as she speaks of her brother. "It's a beautiful way of honoring him," she notes of Miklos's namesake. She hesitates, then turns to address the group. "I have a story to share, if I may. A few years ago, I made a promise to speak up, so that someone's memory might be kept alive... counter to Azazel's desires. I've told many people here and there, always private conversations, but this seems a fitting place to share openly to the public."

She takes a breath and begins recounting her story. "Queen Selendri was the last queen of Thrax. She foresaw that her house would fall and journeyed to Eurus in a desperate bid to gain allies. Her pleas fell on deaf ears to all but the Prophet of the Sands." Her features curl into a grimace of disgust for /that/ name, but she recovers quickly and continues. "He convinced her that she could create a powerful ally by pulling her own reflection from the mirror... and that is how Seleni, the White Singer came to be. But there's far more to Queen Selendri's story, details that have long been left forgotten. She was slain while saving the city from being devoured by Azazel, who did everything in his power to erase all traces of her from the Archives and from people's memories. I know this because Archscholar Sina was Queen Selendri Thrax in a past life. I promised her that I would speak of Selendri's heroism and sacrifice, that she would not remain forgotten. It seems particularly relevant now." She offers a humorless smile, shrugging and promptly shoving a cookie in her mouth. Story over, apparently.

12 Grayson House Guards arrives, following Liara.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Eirene. I'm glad that's something you see, few do." Mihaly offers to his wife, the sound of another voice getting him to turn his head slightly. "Lady Titania, good evening to you."

Eirene offers Medeia a small scowl but it's not directed at her. "I wish I could remember him. I can't. I know you and Esta have mentioned him but I can't recall at all." She nudges Mihaky at Titus' words. "Shield of Twainfort. Pretty impressive, that. Thank you," she says to the even more flattering flatterer. More toasts with cookies and then she nibbles at them.

Titania looks to Titus she nods her head to him, 'Duke Titus." she bows her head to him, then she looks to Eirene and Mihaly. "It is good to see you both." her eyes look to Medeia nodding her head, "Lady Medeia." she says softly, her hand moves to rest on Eirene and move to whisper something to her.

Jan offers Titania an encouraging smile and offers her cousin a cookie.

Liara arrives quietly to the shrine and crosses through to find herself a seat in order to listen. There's a faintly thoughtful cast about her features, but whatever might be on her mind, she does not immediately give voice to it.

Theo has been thumbing through the books as others share. He has nothing to share at the moment as he begins to eat the cookie that was offered to him earlier. When Titus comes in there is a nod of acknowledgement to the other man and his compliments.

Titus doesn't partake with drinks, but he totally takes a cookie offered as payment for the words shared. He nods to Duarte that he'll share after others and stands back to listen to the stories currently being shared. Names being said, he seems to nod and while he takes a bite of a cookie, he offers a word of thanks to each name shared by another. Selendri, Dame East...."

Medeia lets slip a grin for Titus's greeting, and she bows her head to the duke-consort. "As one whose body has been healed by these hands? I know your words are genuine. Thank you." Her gaze moves to Duarte, expression mellowing but no less fond. She places a hand lightly upon his upper arm, fleetingly, before moving to try a different cookie. As she nibbles (the good kind, not the Azazel kind), her attention falls to Samira. When her dear friend is done speaking, she steps forward to offer a hug. "Thank you for sharing. May Sina have found peace." She gives the other woman another squeeze. Then she looks to Eirene. "I wish I could, too, but I think just knowing and spreading thst knowledge is enough. The Eater cannot take him wholly!"

Duarte regard for Samira is a particularly fond thing. Listening as she speaks, he ahs softly as dots are connected. His head bows when Archscholar Sina is mentioned and is appropriately respectful for the late archlector. "Thank you. You've fulfilled your promise in spades here today, Samira. Thank you."

Titania looks over and spots Jan, she smiles and moves over to her cousin and sit with her taking the cookie, "Thank you."

Glass of wine in hand, ready to toast whatever chaos ensues from today's event, Mirari considers a story about her. Mirari has a twisted smirk on her lips as she offers to speak. "I will tell a story connected to my past life.," the woman decides, offering to expose her secrets to the group in the name of fighting their enemies. Asides, how can Mirari resist sharing something spicy?

"The story of Monica Velenosa-Thrax and the Great Bamboozle." Perhaps Mirari just wants to use that word, it's a fun word.

"You see, that is what the Nox'alfar's agents called the Crownbreaker Wars, which was credited to Monica. You see, bamboozle is actually an official term for the Nox.," Mirari explains. "It's used for a devious trick played on another person. House Velenosa was in dire danger of being eradicated due to the weakness of Monica's father. So, she took steps to engineer the start of the Crownbreaker war, almost entirely on her own. She seduced the High Lord of Thrax, at the time, -and- his son, separately of course. Neither knew about it. She also charmed the King, setting it all in motion. I think the Nox found this all pretty funny."

Mirari shrugs and takes another sip of wine. "I saw it once, her death in Setarco, the arrow that pierced through her heart, meant for another." More somber words to finish things off.

Does...that make Monica Velenosa a hero? Duarte doesn't know. What he /does/ know is that he's not about to challenge Mirari of all people on anything. He smiles and eats a cookie. See? Acceptance. Agreement. (Please don't hurt me Mirari)

Orchestrating wars is /not funny/, but something about Mirari's way of wording the story of Monica has her ducking her head to hide her face and keep from giggling cookie crumbs all over the shrine - Vellichor probably won't appreciate an ant infestation on top of everything else that may be coming. When she looks up, she thanks Mirari. "I think I heard some other stories that relate to her? She seems familiar. How very interesting." That's when she notices Liara. "Ah, High Lady, welcome! How wonderful of you to come." She makes a gesture to the many, many cookies and books. "Help yourself to a treat and a story. And if you have anything to share yourself, we would be happy to hear it."

Samira hastily brushes cookie crumbs off of her fingers before warmly returning Medeia's hug, eager to avoid soiling her friend's beautiful dress. She offers Duarte a grateful look, head bowed. "Thanks to you and Deia for providing the perfect setting for sharing it." She lapses into silence, attention turning to Mirari as she speaks. While it's not quite a smile, the corners of the artist's lips twitch in response to something recounted. "Sounds like a bold woman," she remarks aloud before taking another bite of her cookie.

As long as that cookie is safe, Duarte is also.

Liara rises to her feet when her presence is noticed, and she offers a quick and warm smile to Medeia. She steps forward from where she had been standing and, for a moment, she touches her fingertips to the hilt of the sword by her side: specifically, Elvesbane. "I do not come with stolen stories, because the tales of the bearers of Elvesbane are among those few that have consistently survived to this day."

She then says, "I do have a request of a fashion. My cousin, Tamsin, is preparing a rite to Vellichor. I do not propose to delve into detail here, because I do not know them all. However, should any individual be curious, and also, ideally, be entirely happy to march with me to confront the Eater in open battle, at least for a time, I ask them to correspond."

She withdraws thereafter, to seek a cookie.

2 Leary House Guards arrives, following Ilmia.

2 Leary House Guards have been dismissed.

Titus has joined the line.

Turn in line: Titus

Duarte turns his attention to Liara, with no dearth of interest. He murmurs something aside to Harlen, to note the need to forward correspondence later regarding what has just presented itself. Then he stands straighter and nods to Liara, "Thank you, your highness. If you wish to unearth a story you've not known, and speak on it, feel free to do so." He motions to the abundant stories present on the tables.

He collects another such one and reads it a moment. "Sir Gavriel! A crownlands knight of legendary deeds. He was known far and wide, his exploits bordering mythic. Now forgotten entirely. Hearing of vast injustice, he road to Blackrose castle to confront a dark Baron who though once noble now - unbeknownst to him - was in league with Azazel and the Despite.

"He fought gallantly, disarming and slaying the baron. He had the honor and dignity to speak to the baron's good heart pre-decline. And for this: both the slaying and his forthrightness, he was devoured and blotted out of memory forever. Until today."

Duarte looks upon Titus, now, with rapt attention!

The Warmonger steps forward and he's thinking. Fishing in a pouch at his side, he brings out a simple unpolished coin. The voice of Titus isn't loud, it's decayed and quiet but perhaps here with the echoes of the past, maybe it's stronger. "An impending cataclysm is approaching with the specter of Azazel drawing near to shatter the Last Seal and shirk off his chains through the thinnest point and usher in a final reckoning. So I bring you a story and a challenge, if you're up for it." He holds up the silver coin. "A familiar object, touched and used daily without much thought. How it can buy lodging, food, clothing, drinks for new and old friends at your favourite inn as you catch up. It has the power to bless in little ways, often probably not even witnessed. And yet this coin, like the cobblestone streets of Arx, bears silent witness to the horrors of bloodshed and the awe-inspiring acts of valiant sacrifice. These are the silent storytellers of our past, holding within them the echoes of heroism that have shaped our world. So here is a tale often overlooked yet profoundly significant. It begins with a small token, a silver knight and is a story of heroism and heart."

"This is the tale of Silver, a knight of legendary stature, whose story is etched not just in metal but in the very -soul- of Arx."

"Silver, known for her compassion and strength, was a beacon of hope in a time of despair so similar to now. During the darkest hours of Arx's reckoning, when the city stood on the brink of annihilation, it was Silver who stood firm. With a heart as pure as her namesake, she rallied the defenders, her presence a shining light against the encroaching darkness."

"As the battle raged, Silver's bravery was unmatched. She fought not for glory or honour, but for the lives of thousands who sought refuge behind the city's walls, who were hurting, who were afraid, who could not fight themselves. Her last stand, a testament to her unyielding spirit, ensured the safety of countless souls. But it was her -sacrifice- that defined her legacy."

"Silver fell in battle, her life extinguished like a flame in the night. But her legacy didn't end there, no. In her memory afterwards with the survivors of that terrible threat, the Order and city led a procession, their grief as heavy as the armour they bore, to lead her to rest deep below the city. There, Platinum, her companion in arms and in love, left a part of himself there, the best part I think, marking her final resting place as a sanctuary of eternal light."

"Each family saved by her valour added a small brass candle in her honour. And these candles, lit by the gratitude of generations, grew brighter with each passing year, transforming the Necropolis into a radiant testament to the enduring power of sacrifice and love for not ourselves, but for those we care about and for strangers we'll never know. Because we believe they are worth the price of our own lives and that is a power that no darkness can snuff out."

"The tale of Silver and of all these heroes we see today is more than a story of heroism; it is a reminder. It isn't enough to simply become a hero, our duty as survivors is to remember and share their stories and price they paid for our own lives to live on. We must actively choose to learn, recall and pass on the tales of those who sacrificed everything for us. Just as our own actions in thirty days will ripple through time, so too must the memories of heroes like Silver, Monica Velenosa-Thrax, Sina and Selena, of Sir Gavriel and every single one of you here today may endure long after your body has faded away."

"Arx faxes its darkest hour once again and the Dream calls out in hurt and need to see if heroes might rise to the occasion and pay terrible prices so that the answer can be given on whether or not this world is worth keeping and saving. Draw strength from the stories of these heroes, of those moments too that mean something to you. Remember that in the depths of despair, there lies the potential for greatness. And as we stand To The Last, let each of our individual flames guide others, reminding that every end is a beginning and every sacrifice a seed for a new dawn."

He looks at the coin, giving it a flick as it falls into his palm. "And so here is my challenge to you all." He pauses, giving a moment of silence before he continues.

Liara smiles quietly over at Duarte, her chin tilting down in a gentle motion of acknowledgement, and then she crosses over to the tomes to take an inquisitive look at them. She gives a little nod to Mirari on seeing her, too. Then, with Duarte reading another story, Liara lifts her attention to listen, and then to Titus after him. She takes a seat for now, settled there in quiet contemplation, a faint smile finding her features at some point.

Jan finishes her last cookie and listens with interest, not having anything to add but having a great interest in what's being said.

Duarte isn't crying. You are. Or he ate a spicy cookie? It's more of a maybe-mist than tears. Oh he needs to sneeze! Whichever excuse gets your attention /away from Duarte/ then that is the excuse. He rolls in his lips and lifts his brow, prepared for the Challenge of the Warmonger.

When Titus begins to speak Theo gives his attention there and when he speaks of this being a challenge to all his eyes to track the others in here with him. Finishing the cookie he was holding onto.

"And so my challenge to you is this. I urge each one of you before Azazel reaches Arx, to take the time and embark on a pilgrimage within the Necropolis below on a journey of remembrance and self-reflection of your own deed which will be demanded of you soon enough, and go to the Heart of the Necropolis. There, within the hallowed halls of the countless fallen you pass who have been forgotten, you will witness a luminous testament to the power of a single individual who answers the Dream's call on whether or not someone will pay the high price and that the world is worth saving, that you each become a beacon of hope in the darkest times. You will see the resting place of Silver, a Metallic Knight whose final, valiant stand against insurmountable odds saved countless lives and left an indelible mark on the annals of history, yes, even as a not-yet-king witnessed her actions and it changed him forever."

"In the Heart of the Necropolis, you will be greeted by a blinding brightness, a sea of brass candles, each a symbol of gratitude from the generations saved by Silver's sacrifice. This radiant display is not just a tribute to her heroism; it is a powerful reminder that one person's courageous actions can ignite a legacy that burns brightly through the ages."

As we stand on the brink of the longest night, as the dark maw of destruction threatens to engulf our world and bring forth a reckoning like no other, this pilgrimage is more than a mere visit to a sacred site. It is an opportunity to understand the profound impact of our choices and actions. Before Azazel unleashes his fury, before the world succumbs to chaos and despair, let us find inspiration in the story of Silver and let her light spark something deep within you, so your light no matter how strong or how little you might think it is.....might shine bright as the darkness becomes so heavy."

"Let this journey to the Heart of the Necropolis be a call to all. It is a reminder that in times of great suffering and fear, heroes must rise and make sacrifices for the greater good. Your actions, no matter how small they may seem, have the potential to ripple through time, to inspire and uplift those who will survive and rebuild from the ashes of our struggles."

"So, I challenge you: make this pilgrimage. Stand in the overwhelming light of Silver's legacy and realize that even as we face the darkest of nights, each of us carries within us the potential to be a beacon of hope, a source of strength for a world in turmoil. Remember, as we face our own trials, that our sacrifices, our courage, and our unwavering resolve will shape the future for those who will come after us. Let us face the coming storm with the determination to leave a legacy that will echo through the ages. I may not be there physically at your side, and you all will be tested so terribly that it might make your heart break, but I will be there in spirit and I will greet you with the Queen on the other side. Remember, it takes heroes and each of you to me and to someone else, is a hero. We stand and sacrifice so that someone else might survive. To the last."

Jackie, Akkar, Northuldra, 2 Blackwood trained guards, Trihy, an unassuming and dapper dressed man leave, following Cadern.

The day continues on with several reading, and sharing, the tales of heroes. The shrine is packed - mostly by refugees. It is hard to move around but plenty is remembered. For Vellichor.