Basking in satisfaction, Imperator Khunrath and his cabal returned to
their mysterious research within the Cauda Pavonis. The ether was calm
and Nurazar's influence perfectly balanced, while the anchors regularly
transformed and harmlessly disbursed the energies of excess lead. Secure
in the knowledge that their work was no less than ingenious, something
those Sapients would never forget, much less hope to understand, they
turned their attentions to more important things. All was quiet.

Their smug expressions melted away when, on a late Mayan evening, a
metallic scraping tore through the ether. With faces grey and solemn,
the alchemists observed that the anchors were holding, but the planet's
strength had somehow increased. Lead was once again shattering the
precisely struck balance. Tomes flew from shelves and the master
alchemists dedicated countless sleepless nights to anxious study; all
the while, reports arrived daily of the damage being done to the world
beyond their small pocket of existence.

~ ~ ~

The frustrated cries of blacksmiths and hunters, forestals and miners
returned with renewed intensity as metals and creatures alike suffered,
transmuted in part or in whole to lead. This time, however, it was
worse. Golems of lead rose from the earth itself, terrorising hundreds
before they could be brought down. Champion Penwize Baker bravely faced
the monsters again and again, restoring momentary peace and awaiting the
screeching that would herald another's rise.

When a report of etheric disturbances arrived from Ashtan, the
alchemists paled in unison. Sounds from impossible distances drifted to
the ears of the citizenry, while the voices of those standing side by
side were sometimes swallowed entirely. Visions and spectres began to
cross over from the nearer planes of existence, and the Citrinitan
Master was dispatched from the Cauda Pavonis to deal with the problem
before the planes could collapse upon one another. Explaining in only
the vaguest of terms and simplifying for those he was sure could not
comprehend, he brought his solution to Ashtan's Mizik Corten, Isis
Ryuu-Sar'vet, Blujixapug Lucoster, and Vexlore Sar'vet. Just how and why
the rifts were sealed and the ether fortified, however, remains a
closely guarded detail.

Watching with only the mildest of interest, the scholars of the Cauda
Pavonis observed unrest in the forestal community as well. Groves were
rendered useless and beasts barely clung to life while Nature's devotees
sought answers from every imaginable source. At last, a remarkable
observation was made by Vincenzio Vallah Le'Murzen of Cyrene: a single
grove in the Eastern Ithmia was flourishing, the only healthy soil to be
found anywhere. A thriving plant at the centre of the verdant growth
inspired hope as word spread: its buds, once planted, began almost
instantly to cleanse the soil of its taint. Progress, however, was
agonising. Erato, the spirit of the Eastern Ithmia, saw the exhaustion
of the devoted forestals and guided them in a ritual to draw upon their
unique relationship with the natural world, rapidly bringing the forests
and jungles back to health... at least temporarily. Nurazar's position
in the skies remained, threatening the world.

Musing on his observations through an ancient apparatus within the Cauda
Pavonis, the Albedan Master rubbed his chin, sensing an opportunity for
gain. Far to the west, on the desolate island home of Mhaldor, the
baleful viridian-like priest Sevet lay dying. His thorned roots were
withered and tainted by the leaden soil of his graveyard dwelling.
Jirken swiftly devised a plan to brew a potion that would reverse
Sevet's peculiar connection to the earth. The effort was successful, but
with a strange twist: a frightening plague took hold of the priest, and
rapidly worsened as herbal remedies were administered. Scoffing at their
ignorance, the Albedan Master departed for Mhaldor, bringing with him a
slew of minerals and tonics. Cunningly the alchemist negotiated the
exchange of his curative knowledge for a measure of the unique
Inferno-forged metal known as bloodsteel. Fighting against time, the
citizens were able to restore Sevet's health, and the alchemist departed
as swiftly as he arrived, a new artefact for future study tucked under
one arm.

Far to the south, landslides and rockfalls were becoming commonplace
within the Southern Vashnar Mountains. Earthquakes shook the landscape,
increasing in frequency and intensity, and the lighthouse at the centre
of Muurn Lake suddenly collapsed. Its main support, once made of iron,
had turned in part to lead, and was no longer able to bear the
near-constant strain and shaking. Caverns collapsed and opened around
the valley, becoming more catastrophic in the following days as a small
mountain deep within the range collapsed, its heart exposed to the
chilly air. Huddled amidst the rubble was a group of dark-skinned
dwarves, terrified and nearly blinded by the light and snows. Shaking
uncontrollably, a cleric stepped forward to speak, explaining that his
people were charged with the tending of the mountain's heart and had
never before glimpsed the open sky. Reluctantly, but seeing no other
option, the cleric accepted the invitation by Tarkor Alexandrian to find
refuge within Cyrene; later, under cover of night, the few survivors
were secreted to a new home.

Within the Cauda Pavonis the alchemists continued to puzzle over the
strange force that was causing so much trouble. In a moment of
distraction, the Rubedan Master could be seen pausing from his fevered
research, turning his attention to a grandiose celebration within a
planetarium in Hashan. Struck with an idea, he set out for the Crown of
the Ithmia, anxious to see if the extraordinary equipment therein could
prove more useful than his aging apparatus in the Cauda Pavonis. Guiding
him to the planetarium, citizens listened to his dilemma: he had been
unable to pinpoint an elusive source of alchemical energy within the
multiverse. As the alchemist outlined the very basics of the
relationship between celestial bodies and alchemical primes, Inc
Ir'Ardehn swung the massive telescope around, expertly locating a nebula
that resonated with the power of copper. Brimming with satisfaction, the
master prevailed upon the Crown to name the new fixture of the heavens,
before slipping away and back to the Cauda Pavonis. Thus was the Nebula
Coronae discovered.

Despite a perceived success or two, research within the Cauda Pavonis
was ultimately fruitless, and had left the alchemists tired and grasping
at straws. Striking out on his own, the Nigredan Master approached
members of Shallam with his theory of Nurazar's increasing influence. He
supposed that Twilight could be manipulating the planet for some
ineffable purpose, and entreated them to find a way to burn away the
darkness surrounding Nurazar and thus diminish the god's control.
Despite anxious fears of trickery, the Citadel of Light agreed to the
task, with Lyndee Faelithar and Draekar Rian at the helm. Retrieving an
immensely powerful artefact within the Templars' care, the party pleaded
for Phaestus' aid in creating a focus for their ritual. Phaestus
explained that while he couldn't assist directly in destruction, he had
washed his hands of the whole affair and would grant them what they
needed to succeed. Collecting a coil of shadow from Nurazar itself, the
Smith crafted a swirling black replica of the sphere, seething with
palpable tendrils of darkness.

High atop Mount Nicator, the ritual was set in motion. Wielding a sword
that blazed with pure, holy light, Draekar set upon the sphere, and his
actions were mirrored in the heavens. The obscuring darkness was sliced
and burned away, revealing the beautifully sculpted world beneath the
murky shroud. The jubilant cries of the faithful resounded across the
lands, and the relief when the sun rose and Lady Sol's brilliance
splashed across the firmament without blemish was a joyous moment of
triumph.

Penned by My hand on the 23rd of Aeguary, in the year 583 AF.