[DirectorBright]

The heavens have calmed, and yet calamity remained from forces beyond.

To the distant north, the void had lain its hand. To the south, cultists move. Over and over again I find myself having to fight, more than I had in decades prior.

I find myself having to kill.

The Work continues. The Work endures. I had said that the city must survive, that it must be preserved. We had set flesh to stone and seen that pillar built in the northern reaches of Kindlehelm. We had seen its veins reach throughout the jungle's floor, into homes and industries. We had seen to it that they would learn to draw from these, that this place would be changed.

After so many years, it is complete. An icon of our faith, of our cause and our purpose. The first of many. There is little time to rest. We must continue to push forwards, we must continue to create and build. What we've wrought here is treading ground untested, it is proof of the strength of solidarity and the works mortal hands can wield when we lift together. When we align ourselves in belief and deed, we may change the world.

Today, the homes of Kindlehelm find a blessing from these works. Magi and non-magi alike enjoy a steady, reliable flow of mana into their industries and housing. Though it took time to adapt infrastructure to the odd nature of the power system in place, they have lights in the dark months, heat in the winter, cooling in the summer. Clean, running water without worry for wells and cisterns. Refrigeration for their larder, that they need not worry for a bad harvest. Sawmills, smithies, bakeries alike- their machines and furnaces and ovens draw from it instead.

The quest of decades ago, realized here in mere years. Proof that all was not lost, as even the most overlooked among our number enjoy this plenty amidst a cruel world.

Yet in the wake of victory and despondence alike, it is ever important that we remember whom we shared these times with. Who stood shoulder to shoulder with us in good and bad alike. We should be proud of what we've accomplished, and appreciate those who aided us.

I'd say it is time for a celebration.

The Pillar of Shadows pulses in the northern section of Kindlehelm. The soil grows warm, the faint beat of a titanic heart heard from its confines. Homes and industries are at last adapted to its use, flushing the city and nearby jungle alike with power sourced from deep beneath the earth. Visitors and passerby notice the echoes that radiate out from the pillar, whispered memories and glimpses of those close to them.

Ahead of the new year, the faithful stir. Preparations are made in quietude, incense gathered and fliers sent out by those adherents to the nascent Lord of Shadows. A festival, a time in which to remember and appreciate those with whom we had forged the deepest bonds.

To those who wish, barring of course the usual suspects, I invite you to attend and lay one more stone upon the bulwark of this great working. To those of our faith, those curious of it, or those who wish to aid us, you are cordially beckoned.

To rest hand upon this pillar of shadows, and reflect upon those whom you would never forget.
To think of those who made you who you are today, who have left their mark upon your life in ways that can never be erased.
You've only so much time together - you should take the moment to appreciate them properly while they remain.

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A Festival of Echoes

Kindlehelm, The Pillar of Shadows (919, 654, 1)

Sunday, January 4th, 2026
4pm EST