[h3]The Kingdom of Reln[/h3][hr]

 Moonlight falls upon Pelmar's Lake and the dimly lit Tower of Truths. The steady flow of [s]prisoners[/s] guest scholars and great minds has halted for the evening, the boats and ferries secured safely on the shore. To the north, the crumbling ruins of ancient Elvish towers appeared like a broken back upon the Sleepers Spine Mountains. Shadows move in the forests and fields. A wary farmer and his family slip away in the night carrying all they possess. They are abandoning the fetid fields their ancestors have worked for generations, now grown desiccated, while the local shreeve dozes in some tavern, the product of a night's hard drinking. All seems quiet in the Kingdom of Reln. 

[indent][i]Bremen sighed wearily as he sat up in bed. The Kings call beckoned him to the throne room for the sixth time that night. Bremen thanked and dismissed the night guard. Still wearing his night robes and carrying a small candle for light, Bremen stumbled wearily to the great stair that lead to the Kings throne. Five times before the King had summoned him with some trivial question about the royal lineage. Odd questions, ones that the King would surely know. The King seemed to be growing as nostalgic as he was forgetful and mad in his old age. He paused a moment and rubbed his eyes. Through the fog of un-sleep he thought he heard voices talking in the chambers above. It was the Kings voice, that much was clear, but he did not recognize the other one. Or was it three voices total he now heard?...Bremen thought of calling for the guards immediately, but hesitated a moment to listen... [/i][/indent]

[i][color=gray]"...mad. Madness. The King is Mad! The King is Mad! Ha! What fools! They think [i]I'm[/i] mad! Haha![/color]

 [center][color=dimgray]"...oh? Your not m'lord? Are you sure about that?"[/color][/center]

[color=gray]" Ahem. I assure you little ghost, or spirit or demon or devil or whatever you are! I am quite in control of my faculties. That is, until I start talking to you! Wretched little thing! Mogaes be damned!"[/color]

[center][color=dimgray]" Tsk. Tsk. Poor King. Poor Mad King Alem. That is how they will remember you, you know. Madder than Haldisfar. Collecting books and scrolls, scholars and bards like little play things. The King who let [color=steelblue]The Blight[/color] destroy Reln. The King who couldn't lift a finger to stop-[/color][/center]

[center][color=gray]"ENOUGH!"[/color][/center]

[center][color=dimgray]"Ha..."[/color][/center]

[color=gray]"...leave me be...I'm so....tired...damn you...I...I.."[/color]

[center][color=dimgray]"...ahaha..yes, sleep now little King...sleep while I work...ahaha.."[/color][/center][/i]

[i][indent]Bremen took a step up the stairs. He started to shake with fear. He took a step back as a rush of wind suddenly swept down the stairs, snuffing out the candle he held. Bremen heard whispers from dark places, old words not heard for centuries. Bremen turned and fled the hall.[/indent][/i]