Inscribed in the Tongue of the Sun and Moon by Noj'illathuorsaarael, Awakened as Illathuor, Celestial 2nd rank, Revered Prophet, Grand Master Seer, and Sacred Martyr in the service of our Suffering Lord, Ilmater. Recorded for the Posterity of the Heavens in the Celestial Year , the 1,358th Faerûnian year from the erection of the Standing Stone.

I shall provide for you now a brief illumination of myself and my purpose in recording the words that follow, so that you might approach them with a small amount of enlightenment, for as Ghearal the Blindscribe has written, “Enlightenment is a mighty tree, but without a seed, however small, that tree will never be.” These pages shall document the deeds of the astral deva Kal'essethrashiil'azzafouahr: in her present Awakening she is Essethra, devanic novitiate, Celestial 7th rank in the Devoted Legion of Astral Commissar Zauriel, Celestial 1st rank, Pious Judge, Luminous Prefect, and Exalted High Martyr in the 3,012th Faerunian year of his service to our Suffering Lord Ilmater. It has been determined by Commissar Zauriel that I, Illathuor, should record and chronicle the events accompanying Essethra's pursuit of her mission on the Prime Material Plane: the protection of an indispensable, if slightly peculiar mortal by the name of Dancing Albatross. I might have deemed this name unusual some centuries ago, but my continual scrutiny of the mortal world since has taught me that whatever seems at first to be strange or uncouth, is probably in fact the least abnormal thing one will ever observe within it; its most aberrant or bizarre aspects are never readily discernible.

Zauriel's reasons for appointing me the task of this recording are of course his own, he has ever been one to keep his own counsel, but the more perceptive among his attendants have seen that something has quite recently concerned him, something whose importance he had not realized until quite recently, some days after having dispatched Essethra to her assignment on the Prime Material Plane. The Commissar had, of course, exhaustive knowledge of how dire the circumstances were, and how vital a task hers was; however, a mysterious new discovery seems to have deeply troubled the Pious Judge, prompting him to rather belatedly commission this chronicle of Essethra's endeavors in the World of Men. More than this I shall not commit to writing, for my speculations have no place in a text such as this.

What follows shall be my best attempt to record such observations about Essethra's deeds as I deem relevant, in as informative and accurate a manner as possible. My abilities as a Seer will grant some insight into the devanic novitiate's thoughts, but even my power is greatly limited by the divide between planes; I can observe Essethra's actions through a Scrying Sphere, glean some inkling of her thoughts and emotion via my own talents, and hear the thoughts of her daily meditation as well. It is my hope that these sources will provide for a complete and veracious accounting of the following events, and I pray that the mercy of Ilmater and the skill of Deneir guide my humble pen in this endeavor.

There must be two things said about my knowledge of those events which transpired after the dispatch of Essethra to the Prime Material Plane, but prior to the commissioning of this chronicle by Commissar Zauriel. The first being that it is disgracefully incomplete, and in many places so vague and indistinct as to be quite useless to any who would desire to scribe it in any form of text, let alone record it for the posterity of the Celestial Heavens. The second being that it is gained almost entirely through my scrutiny of the recorded “memories” of any Scrying Spheres that might have passively observed the aforementioned events and quite unintentionally captured the deeds of my protagonist, no doubt while scouring the face of Faerûn on some errand or another. I have met with mild success in my attempts to procure information thus; although it is hardly the of the caliber to which a Grand Master Seer becomes accustomed. However, all things that happen serve to further a higher purpose in the end; this poverty of information shall help to reinforce my humility if nothing else—a virtue in which I have perhaps allowed a lapse.

In any event, my documenting shall strive to overcome this lack of raw information through the powers of inference, insight and intuition, in addition to my own supernatural gifts.

Astral Commissar Zauriel summoned Essethra to his chamber in the Exchequer of Souls (?), to be briefed on the mission that she was to undertake. He informed her of the evil which rises in the east of Faerûn, and of the Eight who had been sent to defend the world of men against its dark power. Her mission was to aid and protect each of these Eight, but to look after a certain one in particular: the one known to them as the Arcanist, Dancing Albatross. His destiny is of particular importance, making his survival crucial enough to merit his appointment as her personal charge and ward. She was then allowed to view the larger part of this man's life, learning of his training, his personality, and his relationship to the others of the Eight, known to him and to each other by the name their master gave them: the Talons.

The Luminous Prefect chose the first day of the tenth month in the Faerunian calendar on which to dispatch Essethra to the mortal world. She traveled there in the standard sky-blue apparatus used to transport novitiates to the Prime Material Plane—their angelic resistances and immunities to the threats of the mortal world have not yet developed, and thus they require protection against the possibility of arrival in less-than-clement environments. Of course, there is also the fact that arrival in the Material Plane nearly always occurs at some great height above the ground—barely an inconvenience to a full Seraph, but a deadly concern for a flightless novitiate. Thus, precautions were taken in Essethra's case as in all others, and her arrival in the world of men was sufficiently safeguarded. Essethra might have done better to err on the side of caution before leaving her planar transport apparatus, but the headstrong novitiate was smashing through the walls of her confinement almost as soon as her apparatus had landed. However, had she not been so hasty, her mission to the world of men might have failed before she ever left the pale-blue contraption. For immediately upon exiting, she found three of the individuals she had been informed of—her charge among them—beset by a cloud of ravenous insects, each one of which seemed intent on singlehandedly stinging to death everything that moved. The vicious locusts turned on her as well, and while it seems that she and her companions had some difficulty in dealing with them, they were eventually victorious; the battle itself is terribly indistinct, although the novitiate was apparently badly ravaged by the swarm. Ultimately, to serve the Weeping Lord is to suffer; I suppose the fact that Essethra suffered so grievously even on the first day of her service to him is appropriate, indeed.

Those of the Eight who were present seemed regrettably suspicious of her upon being introduced; it seems that Essethra had not been in any way prepared for such a welcome (or lack thereof, I suppose), and thus was rather puzzled and bewildered by it. One such as myself might have known to expect and provide for such an occurence, but then, not all are called to be Revered Prophets. Amid this suspicion and discontent, they arrived at a dwarven settlement, but apparently the hospitality of the dwarves must have been lacking, for the Scrying Spheres show Essethra and company sleeping outside their walls for the night.

This day seems to have been blessedly uneventful, which is just as well because the Scrying Spheres are at their haziest on this day. I was barely able to discern that this day even occurred, were it not for a brief encounter with a band of orcs that one of the Spheres captured in blurry detail. Apparently two of the orcs were captured and questioned, but the Spheres are so indistinct that I cannot discern what was said by them or Essethra's companions—whom apparently include a priest among their number; a clergyman of Lathander the Morninglord whom the Spheres had not shown earlier. The prisoners were apparently released after a short time.

This day Essethra and her companions entered the town of Narlekh, a port city on the Lake of the Long Arm. Apparently no lethal weapons are allowed inside of the city's walls, nor is any form of metal armor. The devanic novitiate dutifully surrendered her spears, armor, and other instruments of war, and most of her companions did the same. The notable exception to this was the cleric, who struck a deal with the town's guard that allowed him to keep his weapons and armor with the stipulation that he become one of their number until such time as he left their city, acting in the capacity of a healer. Essethra also offered the use of her small healing ability to the guard and townsmen, but without asking for exemption from the city law in return. Such an act is fitting of the Broken God's emissary, she shows promise in the service of Ilmater.

One of the guards they encountered was remarkable in appearance, if only because he seemed as out-of-place there as our protagonists. The Scrying Spheres and my own gifts reveal something of his past and his place here, but his importance seems marginal at best, so I will be brief in what I scribe. His name is Kakita Bokuden, and his place in the guard is similar to the cleric's: he has temporarily aligned himself with the town guard in exchange for the right to bear his weapon; in Bokuden's case though, seems to be strictly a matter of honor, whereas the priest bargained more out of a concern for his personal safety.

This day might very well have been the last of Essethra's mission to protect her sacred charge, Dancing Albatross—and the last of the wizard's short life.

The Arcanist was waylaid by an adolescent girl while walking the streets of the town, and she gave him a letter. My talents reveal that the letter contained a quote from his own journal, and that it contained instructions to meet at a tavern called the Gold Standard, 8 hours past midday. The girl promptly ran off after delivering her missive, and Dancing Albatross gave a summary of it to Essethra and his other companions. It was quickly decided that they should all investigate this, and they set out to probe the Gold Standard before the appointed time of the meeting. However, in a fateful turn of events, the Arcanist decided to inspect the walls and windows of the tavern for suspicious activity by himself; the Scrying Spheres show him being accosted by a member of the thieves' guild while he was alone in one of the alleys alongside the building. Alas, this is where the Spheres become rather hazy, and while Essethra is obviously near-hysterical with grief and shame, the Arcanist's situation becomes less distinct. However, despite the haziness of the Spheres, which is worsened by the nondetection wards placed upon Dancing Albatross (as well as the rest of the Eight), he was taken to what I learned to be a stronghold of the Daggers of Valhalla—a guild of thieves and extortionists, it seems nearly every city of Faerûn is plagued by some such insidious organization. At any rate, though the details are hazy, it could be gleaned that the Arcanist was offered a deal by the thieves: in return for a successful investigation into the murder of two of their number, the thieves would give him information about the ill-wishers who hired the assassins the Talons had encountered earlier.