[center][h1]Banishment[/h1][/center]
On a tiny beach, off a small peninsula, just east of the Weeping Plains, there is a spot where the land moves on its own. It is not every day, or even every week. But the movement always returns. 

There are lines in the sand. Many are nothing more than the idle doodles of a creature lost in thought, but many more form letters, which go on to form thoughts and stories and feelings, footsteps circling around each and every piece in a winding lattice. The land here is blank, and there is no wind to erase the works. 

There are pictures in the nearby cave. A silent museum of stories both mortal and divine. A mighty troll being felled by a band of humans, the jagged etchings doing well to capture the cutting edge of the spear points. A young goddess screaming at a giant boar, the swine only laughing in response. One is much larger and more detailed than the others, springing to life in vivid color that is absent in the surrounding works. An almaniki, clutching a bow, testing out it’s string in a wooden cabin. 

Farthest to the right, a picture of six humans tossing a rope at a lion cub. Only the front end of the cub is drawn, the newly bipedal creature looking as if about to flop flat onto its face as consequence of its lopsided center of balance. 

The drawing remains unfinished.

And the land is still once more.

[hider=Summary]
We find out what Azaris has been doing all these years on galbar, and the answer is spying on everybody. She often retreats to her happy place, a beach on the uninhabited land east of the Weeping plains that nobody created anything on, to record her thoughts, events, etc. As of late, nothing has been added to this location, implying Azaris' banishment.
[/hider]