Greetings, honoured Roostmaster
— whoever and whenever you may be.
I am old and weak, and I sense that this
is my final illness. Soon the Mason
will come to seal me in my tomb, back in the Element from which I
sprang.
I
have given him
my seven silver coins in advance, as is his due.
If you are reading this, then my vision
was true. The time of
Eyrie’s greatest peril is upon you. It is the time of
my prophecy. Those whom I have
foreseen shall arrive at Eyrie shortly. You will
recognise them from my verses. Heed
them and help them, but do no wrong and suffer no wrongdoings from them
— I have foreseen that the love of Eyrie is not the greatest of their
motives.
Before you is the first of my clues, to be
given to the Forseen along with these words. To find the
second clue, wait until the dinner hour and seek where my line runs
true.
Each
clue will lead to the next, and all
lie withing the walls of Eyrie. When
they have all eight — or was it seven, my memory is not what it once
was — they will be able to use thenm together to find that which they
seek.
Ask
not what it is — they know, and I
know, and you shall know if need be. Its fate and
theirs are entwined with that of Eyrie, although this may not always be
clear to you.
Hurry, for now the time has come for
deeds, not words. Those who come
will know of what I write.
Y
Yazeran, his Mark
|
Nine
hands of fate will come up
from the pass And the time will be time of great need Not with book nor with quill yet within Eyrie still Will be found what the rescuers need Black hair, white order, power not by part Healer by nature, by practice, and art Holder of stone, and no little ire Tumbling gymnast, and wielder of fire. Deep seeing lock smith and point guard by role Being an Elf, both by half and by whole. The night on two feet, chrome helm like a flame With fists like two rams, an ironic name Tall black human, through the forests he prowls Woodcutter, tracker, and student of owls White skin and dark beard, following along Another prescient Dwarf, Grungni strong Proud fighting clown from a far away land Seeking an ork who's death was at hand Shaper of paper, and intricate rhyme Looking for answers backward in time A one handed monk and slave to the truth Balancing the fortunes of his opposite youth The oldest of foes shall approach through the peaks With their hearts on the treasure within May the rescuers find what is hidden in time Else the enemy surely will win |