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| - I have peered back over my notes in the most curious fashion. I recall beginning this monumental tasks many months ago; I recall, nearly a year ago, when Kelith Vedan so unkindly kidnapped me from my home. I recall my loss and my hate of my most cruel Master. Reading my original writings, I can even see where I anticipated my own demise when I began to compile my work. That is very far from my mind now. The man I called once Most Cruel, and Most Hated Master has vanished. Before my eyes I have seen his figure cast and recast again in the base element of life. As his story grew and his person was revealed, as I studied my notes of the tales he had told me, the veils that had been cast before my eyes by my conventional and bounded thought were torn away. The yoke about my neck that prevented
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| - I have peered back over my notes in the most curious fashion. I recall beginning this monumental tasks many months ago; I recall, nearly a year ago, when Kelith Vedan so unkindly kidnapped me from my home. I recall my loss and my hate of my most cruel Master. Reading my original writings, I can even see where I anticipated my own demise when I began to compile my work. That is very far from my mind now. The man I called once Most Cruel, and Most Hated Master has vanished. Before my eyes I have seen his figure cast and recast again in the base element of life. As his story grew and his person was revealed, as I studied my notes of the tales he had told me, the veils that had been cast before my eyes by my conventional and bounded thought were torn away. The yoke about my neck that prevented me from looking about but always forced me to look straight ahead has been undone. The lies of the world have come crashing down, and with them, all of their glory and pomp. Kelith Vedan is not a monster - he is a hero of the individual, and the ultimate triumph of the will of men over the will of Gods. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * My Master woke me from my sleep very early that morning. He told me we were to go see the glistening city. This was before my master ran himself through with a blade, bested by his worse, more feeble nature. He woke me from my bed almost, but not quite, gently. He led me down to where he had prepared me some meal for breakfast. He is not a very good chef, Master, but before his niece (of whom I am now allowed to write) came to live with us, he either subsisted on my food or I on his gruel. After eating the meager meal before us, he urged me outside. He had prepared a wain of a most ordinary nature. I was surprised to find it pulled by a most ordinary horse. Atop that horse sat the smallish, almost mousy woman he had identified to me as Meris. He told me that was not her real name, but that she would be our driver for the day. Meris seemed unhappy to be reduced to such a role. She said as much to my Master who glared at her with such a look that could wither trees. Meris didn't say anything after that. She just waited as my Master and I climbed into the cart and sat down. The trip was long, and Master needed to freeze the river in Chillwind Canyon to allow the wagon to pass over it. Other than that, it was uneventful, save for the story my Master was unweaving for me. He tells his tales very simply, and without frill. This is one of the reasons why he found me to write for him I believe. He has no sense of the dramatic, and seems delighted to pronounce even the most horrifying of things as though they were commonplace. You must excuse the amount of drama I infuse his stories with - to me I see them as vivid images in my mind while he speaks. The towers of Dalaran are foreign to me, so I have to ask him again and again what they look like. The attitudes of mages are so far removed from my everyday life that I must beg him to act them out - and indeed, my Master is quite good at acting. That is where he excels, I believe. Not on the page, but in the amphitheater. His poetry is not of the best quality, and his fiction is drab, dull. His portrayal of other people - those that never existed included - is always frighteningly accurate. It is almost as though he never lived his own life, but merely constructed it as a game after watching others live theirs. Upon arriving at the shimmering city I was at once shocked by the magnitude of the magic that was visible there. My Master had often performed little magical tricks as part of his everyday life. His little tricks could not have prepared me for the vast web of spells that shields the city from harm. I can imagine even now the wizards that must be repairing in their lofty aeries and meditating upon the great and unwieldy net they have lifted into the sky. This performance of power reminds me of My Master on many smaller scales. The Wizards of Dalaran have done what my Master will some day do. They have taken the Law of the world into their hands and bent it, and twisted it, and reshaped it until it performed not as it was wont, but as they desired. When we reached the hidden city My Master told Meris she could wander about, but not to get too far away. Here and there Kirin Tor messenger boys and summoners lurked in the ruins. My Master told me that they too had been locked out, and their communication with the wardens of Dalaran was brief and disjointed. My Master had a sad smile on his face when he said that they could simply go to -him- if they wanted orders from a real Kirin Tor. I nearly asked him why he looked so sad, but refrained. I was still anxious back then about posing too many questions. What had happened in that tower room so long ago, when Kelith struck me across the head for my nosiness, had not fully left my mind. My Master must have recognized the question in my look. He pursed his lips and sucked his teeth heavily before answering it. "The filthy hill-man has taken my token, my seal. I am a Kirin Tor without a seal. That means I am just a man who claims to be a Kirin Tor." Strangely enough, I understood. It is hard to know what that feels like unless you too have felt the need to hold a symbol to make you who you are. I once had a membership to the exclusive society of Gnomish Engineers - a Brotherhood. That card had long been lost after My Master kidnapped me from my home. Without it I felt just as he did. As though I were lost, adrift in a sea of myself and unable to locate me for the trees. Or am I mixing metaphors again? Suffice to say - I was everywhere, for I had no anchor, which is the same as being nowhere. That's how Kelith would have put it. Everywhere is the same as Nowhere. Then My Master told me of his time as a teacher. Many things came and went in this story, and it took him until sundown to relate to me. Then, he went and fetched Meris. They had a private conversation which consisted of him pointing his finger at her and scowling deeply. Then she drove us home. When we reached Caer Darrow I wrote down everything I had heard that day before going to bed. The next morning, I wrote chapter two of the Fourth Book of Kelith's life, and today I edited it.
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