The Quiet Dawn Before

(19 Akroeg 376, The Crossing)

The morning sun rose upon a city that was quiet. Hawkers sold their wares, people squabbled, but life was still somewhat quiet. It was the dawn of the day before the Votary Wyren had predicted, no, warned, that Zoluren would be over-run by hostile forces.

The wise were seeing to their last minute provisions, favors, and strategies. The wary were putting their money where their mouth was and heading for a safer place. Maybe the Islands, maybe north, or south. There were reasons not to go to any of them, though.I had awakend with a start in a strange place. And I was sore all over. My late vigil last night at the Chapel of Meraud did not last as long as I had hoped, and I fell asleep against the altar.

In addition to the warning words of the Votary, I witnessed something that chilled me to the bone. I had just arrived in a nice neighborhood and raised my hand to knock on the door of a friend when I saw gladiola suddenly burst into flames!

It was an awful, roiling and completely devastating fire that took the beautiful flower to nothing but char and ashy ruin in less than two roisaen.

My companions witnessed this devastation with me and the meaning was not lost on them either. The Gladiola is the symbol of Zoluren.

I came to find out that a number of people saw the exact same thing happen just outside the Cleric Guild in the Crossing around the same time.

I quickly finished my errands, made sure I had 10 favors, stowed a few things away, found my herbs, and purchased some extra weapons. Then I covered my head and prepared for prayers.

I intended to spend the entire night at prayer, praying for the safety of the Prince and of Zoluren. Several anlas later, I must have fallen asleep. I should take some coffee with me next time I try a vigil alone. What was I thinking?

And so the long day of waiting for the morrow begins with this rising sun. I hope everyone is prepared. I pray that I am.