With the Demigod Haskor's departure, the Chronicler Phylarchus was alone in his work once again.

That was just fine with him.

Poring through books so frail the merest touch might crack the parchment and making sense of ancient stories told and re-told so often their veracity is now a matter of belief and not certainty, he worked, and worked.

The subject, a figure of legend, was so far removed from the present that myth and fact no longer walked hand-in-hand. They became one, a long time ago. Enna Ministrickle proved a difficult subject to get a feel for, and an even more difficult subject to research. But he needed to press on.

Night after night, the chronicle grew. With every labouring day, the tome became fuller; after a year's research, he closed it for the last time and rested his hand upon it. He felt it, in his heart: it was ready. Inspiration brimmed in him, and he felt with the certainty only a Muse can impart that it was so.

At the appointed hour, adventurers from all corners of Sapience arrived to hear his words. Phylarchus began to deliver his findings when the world stilled with the arrival of none other than the Elder God, Scarlatti.

Imparting a boon begged of Him by the Muse, Rennibrande upon the Chronicler, the Great Bard departed and left him to his audience. The tale began at last, and all who listened closely to him were transported by his words to a time and place long lost to history: the village that would one day become the city of Cyrene.

They saw houses beside the dry bed of a river that now runs a different course. They felt the mercilessness of a Dryad's wrath for the incursion upon her domain, and did battle with a great monstruousity in the lake mortals now call the Muurn.

They witnessed the magic of the Grook, Enna, when she carved the Muurn tunnel. In the flesh, they re-lived the joining of waters fresh and salty, and the entombment of the great monster in those darkened caves. How Cyrene was made safe from both forest and lake so its people might thrive. All through the voice of a dedicated Chronicler who pushed back the mists of time for just long enough to allow that brief gaze into storied antiquity.

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Summary: Phylarchus, the Chronicler delivered his treatise on the life and times of Enna Ministrickle, resulting in a trip through living memory for the audience that attended!

Penned by My hand on the 15th of Scarlatan, in the year 967 AF.