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Waiting for a Hope


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A season changed since Farah came to the Haven, home of the Pathfinders. She got into the habit of visiting The Book of Truth, studying it, and trying to ease the terror that long nested in her mind and heart. No one asked anything from her in return, which pushed her more to contribute to this society. She regularly tidied the places and made sure the sacred islet hosts the holy relic were always ready to be visited by any virtuous Pathfinder. It was not a hard job because almost no one visited the place. She realized this world marvel was not different from the statues in big cities, most people never took their time to examine or remember their stories. The real question was, why?

She knew her limits yet was determined to wave the flag and spread the words of virtues. She slept in the library for a while to learn all historic and pragmatic information possible about the Pathfinders and the Virtues (will be referred to as The 8 from now on). She came across a name in almost every book she laid a hand, Friar Enoch Mazirion.

She tried to preach the word of virtues to some interested Pathfinders, but she felt herself like an imposter. Wasn’t she the one baking bread and serving ale several moons ago? Isn’t she an uneducated villager, who only gifted in music and figured when to release an arrow from a nervy bow? These thoughts shook her makeshift motivation. She asked her old friend Nymaeron to be part of his dungeon adventures. They didn't leave any corner of any dungeon unfooted, cleanse them from evil, help the ones in need and place an Ankh to every conquered place of evil. She felt more effective, more in alignment with her nature. This was a better path for her than trying to fill in the shoes of a legendary ghost...


The Shrines that gave people hope were falling into corruption left and right. This terrified Farah, the idea of losing the shrines was equivalent to losing the 8’s presence on Avadon, when it's guidance was much needed in these troubled times. She fought countless battles for the Shrines and kept emerging victorious. But how long could she keep up the fight? The terror and fear pierced her. She wasn't the only one who was worrying about the 8's presence in Avadon. A new division formed in the Pathfinders, these people called themselves arbelists and fought for honor. They were not your regular clergymen. Some of them even took the surname of Longwood to break with their darker pasts.

One day while studying the Book, Farah heard loud noises from the house of Bob Vance. She went to check out, even her brother warned her about the unstable yet overly talented man. She chose to approach the house with caution and saw Bob was in a heated argument by himself, the lantern he never leaves his side was humming with every word he said. She saw many dismembered giant spiders scattered all around the place. Farah was meaning to ask for some sort of medicine for her night terrors which kept her away from sleep from this renowned alchemist, but this was clearly not the best time. She quietly left the window before getting caught.

Avadon wasn’t getting any better. People were confused, some started to worship an evil wizard, new cults formed in the moisty caves, and orcs were kept terrorizing the divided land. Haven was secure. The big cities were rather safe if one doesn’t count the treachery, deceit, and backstabbing. Thanks to 8, Tam Al’Thor’s relentless spirit was keeping a powerful and influential council intact and rally crowds to fight against evil and keep the peace that never was. But how could it be possible to bring the virtues to all Avadon, and who would lead this much-needed crusade?

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