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Posted: **Sun Jun 26, 2011 5:22 am**

Tyrion stalked the halls of Her palace effortlessly. The guards stationed on the outer antechamber, regarded him with a curious look, parted ways, and continued their silent vigil. He made his way towards Her chambers. Tyrion rapt at the door. A soft velvety voice bade him "Enter."

Tyrion entered the room and bowed. "My queen," he pronounced with all the pomp and pander it was meant to infer. She waved a dismissing hand in his general direction and began with a hint of irritation. "Our People, lose faith," She began bluntly. Tyrion attempted to interject but She started again. "These past years I have weathered the loss of our magnificent Empire with grace, the destruction of one temple with scorn, the Resurgence with breathless interest and the construction of a new temple with reserved glee. Yet. . . something is missing." She rose from her bed and paced in front of Tyrion. He began to speak but was halted by his queens determinism to continue. "I am gladdened by our Peoples conviction and faith," she said resolutely and continued once more, "but they're progress is. . ." She paused and looked Tyrion directly in his eyes. Her gaze was loving but showed a tenacity that many men may have cowered from. He knew instantly what she desired. He met her steely resolve with understanding. "My queen," Tyrion bowed low to dismiss himself and began to make his preparations.

Posted: **Mon Jul 04, 2011 4:06 am**

He had gathered his items rather quickly. Surprisingly quicker than what he would have thought it would have taken to gather his belongings from a place where he should have remained for eons. He shrugged that discouraging thought from his shoulders and resolved himself for the task ahead. Checking his belongings once more he made his way towards the Royal Magisters tower. As he climbed the winding steps of the First Tower he began to think of his friends of old: Versn Vikol, Pablo Biggy, Rohan Koht, Engel Brotheamus, Sauros Darkfall, Kerbal Longbeard, Jayson, Diam Larkei and so many others he had left behind at the onset of the Great Calamity. His thoughts were very hazy and swimming with the possibility of seeing them once more. "Victory in strength," he muttered underneath his breath, a silent mantra The People had chosen to live by for decades. Uttering the words steeled his determination and solidified his purpose. He reached the top of the stairs and was greeted with an unlikely send-off.

"Your majesty," Tyrion bowed low in deference. "Rise, my loyal subject. It is, regrettably, not my wish to be rid of your presence, Tyrion." Tyrion quirked a brow in confusion and somewhat disdain. Had he heard right? His Queen called to him, a devout servant by his name. She had done so in the past but there was a matter of fact tone that lead him to believe She may have intended to confer some divine purpose unto him. "Tyrion. . never will we be equals in terms of our power or status, however, I believe the time has come to send a message to those yet faithful, struggling to survive in a gloomy world and those still hateful, wishing to sew the seeds of destruction for our People." Tyrion continued to listen, his heart pounding in his ears shockingly loud. "My People will here forth refer to me as Esuna, Goddess of the Order of Imperial and Patron deity of the One True Faith of the Lands of Britannia. All shall love me or despair! Take this message to our People in Moonglow and reinforce their determination with hope for a better tomorrow. Nodding determidely, Tyrion walked past his Queen. The fire in his eyes was bright and he cracked a vicious smile, replaying the events in his mind as the Royal Magician completed his chant, darkness encompassed him.

Posted: **Sun Sep 11, 2011 4:32 am**

He rubbed the feathery end of the quill against his chin. Tyrion had to ensure the final draft was worded perfectly. The verbiage needed to allow room for interpretation and be all inclusive of the personalities, cultures and customs of The People as well as the Order's most august members and the neophytes recently indoctrinated so that all could find their niche in the Orders framework to serve. It was a monumental task to undertake but he knew that with Esuna guiding him, he would be successful. After months of discussion within the Order, a final draft had been agreed upon. He inked the words with the confidence of purpose directing his every stroke. Holding the final draft up after several hours of scribbling and many hundreds of now crumpled pieces of parchment, he gazed with pride upon the unfurled final draft.

Feeling satisfied he copied the original draft onto many other blank scrolls, inserted them into the carrier pigeons case and dispatched them to others of the Order for awareness sake.

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