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[Lothoir]

A man in a grayed and weathered cloak hunches over a darkened inn table with tensed muscles and shut eyes. Slowly, he begins to breath again and with strained effort forces his muscles to relax. He opens his messenger bag and carefully removes a leather book and quill set. Setting quill to paper he begins, writing in a harsh, runelike script:

It has been seven days since entering this Sundered Valley and I've had no more visions. Whether I have been abandoned or left to-I don't know-Whatever happened, the visions did not take the magic with them. I still feel it-writhing under my skin like a swarm of ants, trying to eat free.

I've learned something about the visions: The seven stars surrounding a tendril of red mist is the symbol of Mystra, the goddess of magic. I still don't understand why I am getting these visions, though-

If I'm not to be guided by visions any more, I'll guide myself.

I need to find a priest of Mystra and find out what is wrong with me, maybe then I can go home.

[Lothoir]

I'm not sure I can do it. he begins, They both speak as if it is so easy...but perhaps that is the problem, it is easy. I want nothing more than to let it out, to fly from me and never return. But what will happen if I do? How many people will I hurt while my barriers are down? She made it clear to me that there is no going back. I have a power and if I don't learn to control it then it will destroy me. The favoured soul told me a god did this to me, injected me with this burning curse that seeks to rip me apart. The visions are from Mystra, but is she trying to help me? Am I just some pawn to be used, or am I a part of something bigger?

The prayers to Tempus have never come easy to my lips, I have never enjoyed combat the way the others do, but I fear now I am involved in the greatest conflict of my life. Will he help me, after all these years of silence? Why hasn't he sent an omen, even if not a vision? Why has Mystra taken such an interest in me, only to abandon me as the power grows stronger and I need help more than ever before? Her priest could do nothing more than declare I was a sorcerer before teleporting away and the only help I've been given is from an Oghmite priest and a mute sorceress. Is this part of some overly complicated plan, or was it blind luck? Do I even have the luxury to complain about this, when my main concern should be harnessing this power?

Whenever I lose control, the pressure eases. If not for that I would never be able to block off the torrent that has been building up within me. When a spell bursts free it is as a piece of my flesh is burned away and suddenly my barriers weaken, these barriers that are the only things keeping me from being destroyed by my own wretched powers, which only brings me back to the initial fear:

What if I can't control it?