It was a chilly start to the day as Gardeth Ironsong joined his fellow brethren before the office of the Architect of Targossas. His surly face poised in a frown, he listened carefully as Maeris walked them through the schedule for that day.

Racing as fast as a dwarf possibly could, Gardeth flitted from isle to isle, fetching and carrying in preparation of the coming events. Breathing heavy from his efforts, he finally arrived at Silverbright Square, just in time to grab a spot towards the front of the milling crowd.

His wait was not to be long.

Overhead, a radiant shower of golden motes bursts into the firmament above the city of Targossas, the dense particles coalescing into the figures of Aurora, Goddess of Light and Deucalion, God of Righteousness.

The voice of the Lightbringer cut through the air, "Targossas, We have both guided and observed Our loyal followers through the harsh times of the Refugees into the founding of the Dawnspear.", She evoked.

"We promised you shelter, and We kept that promise. We pledged to watch as you walked the path of the Righteous, guided by Light. Today you take the next step of your journey.", the Righteous Fire followed.

So the crowds grew, citizens spilling across the Square and onto the steps of the Heart of Dawn, until finally they were joined by the Lightbringer and the Righteous Fire.

Standing together before the assembled might of the Dawnspear, the Bloodsworn Gods addressed the gathered throng. To the growing joy of the citizenry, They spoke of pledges made, and new tools with which to protect Creation from the harm of the forces that would oppose its natural advancement. Their faces stern, They warned of the failures of Shallam, and Their will to never see such events take place again. Finally, They announced the creation of the Great Houses of Targossas: fine establishments of martial excellence, scholarship and ritual, and political and trade brokering.

And so, on the 16th day of Mayan, 649 AF, the Houses of Targossas finally opened their doors. The Dawnblade, mighty warriors of Targossas under the keen eye of Davio Op'Shae. The Harbingers of Redemption, under the fervent guardianship of Halos Vorondil, and the Luminai, steeped in historical significance, under the steady rule of Aldair D'Vast.

Gardeth slipped away from the crowds, a broad smile on his face as he headed to the Mirror Isles. "Things are gonna get mighty interesting around here soon, that's for sure.", he muttered quietly.


Penned by My hand on the 4th of Daedalan, in the year 650 AF.