These are the last known writen words of Ioseph Xene, Speaker of Girzon. Found in his journal on the day of his demise, Starday, 11th of Rova.
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Fireday, 10th of Rova.
We made it to the Gauntlet. No small feat concidering the civil war raging in the city, fires stroked by the Sons of Solara. But we made it through. The accolytes fullfilled their purpose. They were just what we needed to thin the ranks of disidents enough for us to dispatch them.
Not without effort though, our Legionair took it upon himself to charge the masses. I was foolish enough to follow him. He fell rather quickly but I managed to withdraw, only to be struck in the back by some unseen assailant.
Girzon. You were close to claiming me today. I would gladly have come, but you in your divinity saw fit to leave me here, in this existance, for now. I pray I can see your purpose in the tasks you set before me.
Meeting Grog again was an unplesant experience to tell the truth. Concidering the old man's warnings I would have liked nothing better than send him to see you, Great Girzon, but all those crossbows trained on us called for a more subtle approach. At least we all got through the door and down here to the Gauntlet.
The mite worker we met on the firt ledge was less then forthcoming with any information, but hopefully he will be more helpfull when he sobers up. Maybee giving him such strong alcohol wasn't such a good idea. But he liked it, and as a result liked me. That is what is important. He must share what he knows the miserable little creature.
But now I must rest. Stay with us father, guide our hands and our thought as we traverse these caverns in your name. See us through the dangers lurking in the darkness for you are the father and the master of everything.
I.X.
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Excerpt from the Wall of Fate, writen by Weaver.
Name:
Ioseph Xene
Downfall:
Ioseph talked like a dark angel with lips trembling in true fervor for Girzon. It was often noted that his belief was as pure as Abyssal snow... and once he managed to hook you with his words, rarely was there a chance for escape. His humble attitude often complimented his deep seeded evil nature. But, it was often difficult for the more callous minds to understand the bouquet of his vile intent. His death brought a multitude of (mostly women) to tears. But, none as much as a elderly instructor of blackguards who had come to like Ioseph as a son. With a limp and a bit of foresight, this man would later start a scholorship in honor of the black hearted Speaker of Girzon. This Xenic scholorship turned competitive... as many impoverished children attempted to out word each other for a cushy stipend and entry into the church. Within a few months time, it became an event within Orthanis to be watched by everyone. Everyone except the limping instructor and the dead Ioseph.
Ioseph was missed by many and the Gods enjoy his soul even to this day. Girzon did not punish Ioseph as his use extended far beyond his mortality.