[center][h3]Altim[/h3]
[img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/48f3/f/2011/208/a/b/divider_by_canzeda-d41w92p.png[/img][/center]
	[color=DarkGray]"Well then, young one," the Priest retorted snarkily. "You will have to journey to the Heartlands. They don't keep Altim's Violin here anymore. Not since the Fire went cold."

	He stared this imposter down, assuming his claims of being Altim to be an alcohol fuelled vie for recognition and fame. He raised his walking cane and poked Altim a few times, before forcing himself to his feet. The ravages of time had not been kind to the priest, and even standing was a struggle nowadays. 

	"It is kept in the Bastion of Light. If you want to try your luck with the God Guard Legion then you are more than welcome to tell them your story. Maybe they will buy it. But you aren't Altim. Altim is long dead," the Priest asserted. "If Faerthus is gone, then Altim would be too. So take your stories to some other old fool, and convince them of it, you heretic!" he shouted. 

	The Priest turned his back in such a rude fashion that he almost felt bad for doing it. Almost.[/color]

[center][h3]Balor[/h3]
[img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/48f3/f/2011/208/a/b/divider_by_canzeda-d41w92p.png[/img][/center]
	[color=DarkGray]The tremors in the earth beneath them startled the people, and after the initial shock had passed, the villagers abandoned their tasks and rushed for the hills and the forests further inland for safety. The people took to the canopy and clung tight to the branches of the trees, and there they waited, watched. Things were still for a while. Then the earth shakes again, but this time, the villagers look to the mountains. Time had long erased the carnage that had occurred where the villagers then stood. They lived on a gravesite, and yet they knew nothing of the sort. But something stirred in the shadows, and its presence felt old and looming.

	Balor's shouts echoed through the woods, and his demonic tongue pierced the ears of the villagers who heard. They cowered though they had not seen the source, and truth be told, they did not want or need to know of the source. Such an ominous and clearly malevolent sound belonged to a force to be reckoned with, and the villagers had no will to fight so strong an evil presence. Women held their children's mouths shut, and men held their tongues. The people quelled their fears and quieted their screams. As the unwelcome presence drew near, the people watched intently for him from the higher branches.[/color]

[hider=Quest Note for Guilty Spark][b][@Guilty Spark][/b]

	Hello! As always, you can do what you want with these people. Name them, kill them, talk to them. You've got liberties here. The main idea here is that you have options. Act however you think Balor would in this situation. The villagers themselves are hiding in the treetops, looking down on Balor. He might be able to glimpse one of them or hear someone's breathing. Other than that, they are completely hidden from obvious view.[/hider]
[center][h3]Caecilia[/h3]
[img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/48f3/f/2011/208/a/b/divider_by_canzeda-d41w92p.png[/img][/center]
	[color=DarkGray]"You? Caecilia?" the woman tensed her brow in disbelief. She exchanged looks with the other dancers before she turned her head to face Caecilia again. "You [i]cannot[/i] be Caecilia. She died so long ago."

	One of the other women stepped forward and charged, "We have forgiven your trespass upon this sacred ground, but this claim you make is simply heresy if there is no truth to it. Explain yourself, else you are criminal and shall be banished from these grounds." The women created a circle around Caecilia and drew their blades from their hips. The dancers bore menacing and wary countenances, and their daggers pointed directly at Caecilia. Their forms were tense but practiced, and their piercing gazes dug into Caecilia's skin. One small move could be fatal.[/color]

[hider=Quest Note for FantasyChic][b][@FantasyChic][/b]

	I think that you know well enough what you should do here. ;) The Order of Caecilia will not back down until she does something to prove herself or submits. Naturally, what happens after that is up to you, within reason.[/hider]
[center][h3]Daen[/h3]
[img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/48f3/f/2011/208/a/b/divider_by_canzeda-d41w92p.png[/img][/center]
	[color=DarkGray]Wind and snow blew harshly across the frozen sea-turned-tundra. What unprecedented force set those seas to freeze was a strong one, and Daen was lucky enough to ride a horse outfitted with the proper horseshoes. Nothing - no land, no life - could be gleaned through the whiteout, and Daen and his equine vehicle simply rode blind onward. That is, until the horse stopped in its tracks and refused to continue further. Although it appeared nothing was in its way, eventually some gray silhouette, lone against the horizon, came closer into view. Its blurry form became more definite, and soon enough could Daen identify a man. A muffled shout reverberated across the cold expanse. As the man repeated his shouts, they became clearer and clearer to the ear.

	[color=333333]"Hey!"[/color]

	[color=666666]"Hey!"[/color]

	[color=737373]"Sir, excuse me, sir!"[/color]

	"Could you spare a ride atop your steed?"[/color]

[hider=Quest Note for Dextkiller][b][@Dextkiller][/b]

	Here's your ride, sir! This is your chance at the big leagues! You can mug this guy, take his wallet, beat him senseless, steal his credit card.

	Oh wait. My bad. That's from my weekly planner. The deal here is that this guy is trying to make his way back to land. A bunch of thugs left him out on the ice, and that's just not nice. Not nice on the ice at all. Your move, friend. :sun[/hider]
[center][h3]Dormeria[/h3]
[img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/48f3/f/2011/208/a/b/divider_by_canzeda-d41w92p.png[/img][/center]
	[color=DarkGray]Atroa averted his eyes from Dormeria's with a sense of awe and fear. Not that Dormeria was a truly [i]evil[/i] thing, but that with a destructive weapon like Ukenagasu, one could do some very dangerous, very grim work. This was the original wielder of such a destructive weapon, and he could not bear to show Dormeria anything more than full submission. Death herself reviled that dreaded staff, that much Atroa could garner about the eldritch tool, but the Grand Exemplar was not aware of the toll which the staff took on Dormeria's life to do its job.

	"Praises!" Atroa could not mistake her. With Ukenagasu in hand and already a semblance of power exhibited, Dormeria's identity was hard to deny. The question lingered in his mind, though. Dormeria had lived 48,000 years ago. How and why did she return? "But pray tell, my dread lady, wherefore have you returned?"[/color]

[hider=Quest Note for Tuujaimaa][b][@Tuujaimaa][/b]

	O, Wicked Witch of the West, somebody ought to crush you with a house and take your ruby slippers. Or is Dormeria better suited as the Grinch? Ideally, your goal will be to take back the Ivory Towers from an underground crime syndicate I like to call "the Vigil."

	Side note: Atroa is using "dread lady" here in the Shakespearean sense.[/hider]
[center][h3]Eamon[/h3]
[img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/48f3/f/2011/208/a/b/divider_by_canzeda-d41w92p.png[/img][/center]
	[color=DarkGray]As the greener lands came closer in Eamon's view, the skies seemed to grow grayer and grayer. Eamon's first spell began to fizzle, and its light shifted directions rapidly. One moment, the light pointed somewhere in the southwest, but then it immediately turned northward. It changed and changed, and it showed no signs of stopping until it suddenly exploded in a flash of white light. At that moment, the rain fell from the sky onto Eamon and washed over the land, the sound of thunder rumbling across the rolling hills, plains, and meadows of Ansus' northern side. A wonderful feat of nature, however, is easily spoiled. Deeper in the forest, a loud, mortifying shriek echoes against the boughs and the brush and the wilds.[/color]

[hider=Quest Note for LancerOfBlue][b][@LancerOfBlue][/b]

	Eamon has two options: go into the woods or take a different path. Depends on where he's headed though.[/hider]
[center][h3]Jacaerys[/h3]
[img]http://orig11.deviantart.net/48f3/f/2011/208/a/b/divider_by_canzeda-d41w92p.png[/img][/center]
	
[hider=Quest Note for DeltaV][b][@DeltaV][/b]

	I left yours open-ended since you still need to respond to that old man. And once that's done, you can start your trek to whichever location you want to seek out, and I'll guide you there (or be a hindrance). ;)[/hider]