| Forward> A foul wind blew outside, swirling across the pristine streets of ever-spring Silvermoon, evident through windowless walls, as hundreds of other Adepts and I sat in the large communal hall, part of a large wing of the Order Temple, awaiting our fate. A massive recall, in the form of a hastily written and printed formal letter regarding poor and dangerous practices of the Light, that led to several unfortunate deaths, and that is the reason we were here – to be tutored, and trained away. The mentioned victims of the untimely, ill-fated ends lay ahead of us, in large, highly decorated urns, emblazoned with the Sun Phoenix of Silvermoon, behind them, various Masters, tutor-matrons, and Magisters, preparing themselves.