1999-05-14: A Chosen Fate
With slow steps, Seer Daemeon made his way to a bench near the Spring of Knowledge in PaxLair. Wrapping faded robes closer about his thin form, he stared at the tainted well. All watching who knew him understood why his gaze would be drawn to this corrupt spot of evil. It was the whole of his existence. For near a year he had studied this spring in hopes of gleaning some knowledge as to how it could be cleansed. Others had offered to aid in his endeavor, but ultimately it stood untouched; a swirling pool of blood full of the souls of innocents.
As those in the area noticed his presence, many came to inquire about his health and any news he might hold as to relieving his suffering. His short answer filled many with excitement, “There is a cure.” In a tired voice Daemeon explained to those who remained that after careful research he had found a cure to the ailment. When a suitable group had gathered around he spoke of what was needed.
Seer Daemeon listed the ingredients he would need to the gathered throng. Some of the required items such as ginseng, silk and a number of potions were simple to pick up. A crystal ball was also quickly found and accounted. But the final three items needed for the cure would be more difficult to obtain. More difficult and more dangerous. A vial of living water, one of blood, and the heart of a dragon… a daunting list.
The living water was gathered from a water elemental. Not generally creatures with which one can reason, the brave warriors and mages had to subdue the water elemental to get the needed living water. The vial of blood was found by defeating a blood elemental at the shrine of sacrifice. The most difficult of the three, though, was the heart of a dragon. As though if would not be difficult enough to find and kill a dragon for its heart, the dragon had to be of good virtue for the cure to work. A good dragon! Where does one find a creature of that sort? But fortunately Seer Daemeon knew of a dragon that might just fit what was needed. It’s name was Griingyll. The adventurers found the dragon and convinced it to listen to their plea. Griingyll followed them to PaxLair and inspected Seer Daemeon. With a snort of smoke, Griingyll pronounced the seer worthy of such a sacrifice. But the mighty dragon was too proud to just kill itself. Griingyll asked those gathered to kill him in honorable combat. After a fierce battle, the dragon fell. It is rumored Griingyll said something with his dying breath, “I know thee seer, and thy mind. I’ll see thee soon.” Griingyll smiled at Daemeon as he laid his head down and closed his eyes. All of the desired ingredients were now ready.
Pulling himself to his feet with the aid of his staff, Daemeon went to stand in front of the fountain. Vas Sanct Ylem was uttered and several walls of force formed about him. “For our protection" he said. Gazing at those waiting in anticipation he spoke, "Now that the wards have been set I shall begin my task. I thank you all for risking thine lives for myself. That which you have brought will cure the blight that hides the light.”
And so the ritual began…
A phrase was spoken for each item as it was mixed with the others by his hand. Many stared in wonder at the magic that would be performed before them. Others waited to see this seer cured of his yet unexplained malady.
Holding the mixture before his mouth, Daemeon gave a light sigh. “I accept,” he said before downing the concoction in a single gulp. A low peal of thunder slid across the skies and a burst of sparkling light sprung into being above the fountain. Flames danced over the tainted waters as white lights continued to sparkle.
Daemeon gazed at the display in wonder. From around him, cries of amazement, surprise and even fear escaped from the crowd. Seer Daemeon spoke in a clear voice for the first time in months, “With my passing I return that which was lost so long ago. As well as hope. Fare you well… my friends.” These would be the last words ever spoken by Daemeon as a living being.
His pale body fell to the grass in front of the fountain almost silently. Seconds later, something arose from the frail corpse. It held the appearance of Seer Daemeon, but was as transparent as the wind. It drifted up over the fountain and slowly descended into the blood tainted depths of the spring. As the apparition disappeared from sight, the fountain suddenly began to flow with clear blue water.
Much that would be spoken of for many days had transpired. Daemeon’s cure had never been for himself, but rather for the spring all along. Questions remained, but none present would ever question the courage of Daemeon’s sacrifice. And the fountain was from then forth known as the Spring of Courage.
