Alright, this story takes place in the day or so before we attacked the Steel Star at the manor house and their warehouse headquarters in the Oracle's City. It explains how (and why) Ellia became the first Paladin of Jeyld.

"Chosen"

Ellia walked through the city as if in a dream.

She was fully cognizant, and aware of what she was doing, but the world around her seemed hazy and unreal as the pull in the back of her mind continued to lead her on—to what, though, she didn’t really know. One part of her cried out at her foolishness, for this city was surely firmly in the hands of the Steel Star, who—it seemed—were determined to take the young priestess; at the same time, though, another part of her mind drove her forward.

And so she continued on.

The city at dusk was magical, with the golden light of the setting sun reflecting from the polished marble facades of the buildings, the musical sound of the numerous fountains filling her ears just as surely as the scents of carefully cultivated flowerbeds did her nose. Ellia breathed deep, inhaling the pleasant smell of the cool evening air mixed with the flowery fragrance that seemed to originate all around her. This city, the City of the Oracle, was one of the most beautiful places that Ellia had ever experienced.

Even despite the uncanny silence and lack of people on the streets, the city seemed to have a life of its own. It was true that an ambiance of fear permeated this city—fear brought on, no doubt, by the ever-present Steel Star agents that watched from the shadows—but that fear was tempered by something else, fragile though it was: hope.

From the gloom of a side-street, a group of three armed men stepped, moving purposefully toward Ellia. Even in her dreamlike trance, the slight young woman could see the golden twilight reflecting from the star-shaped badges upon their chest, marking them as the enemy. However, as had happened more than once since she’d left the Inn of the Drunken Jester, the Steel Star agents stopped just before reaching her, their eyes going vacant as they turned aside, as if forgetting their original purpose.

The familiar sensation of her master’s divine energy at play tickled the back of her neck, and Ellia smiled, thanking Him for his protection, though she had no doubt of her ability to deal with members of the Steel Star. Through the hazy veil that clouded her senses, a hot flood of anger began to rise at thoughts of what that criminal organization had done to her in the past. By channeling that rage, Ellia had found herself more than capable of felling her enemies in the heat of battle.

The quite tapping of her footsteps against the cobblestones of the street stopped, and she felt herself become slightly more aware. Her emerald eyes widened at what she saw, for clearly this was the religious center of this city, the Temple Square. Here, more than anywhere else in the city, Ellia saw groups of wary people moving quickly to and fro, exiting and entering temples, bartering with those merchants who had set up small carts to sell religious paraphernalia, and hurrying back to their homes as quickly as possible. In the center of the square, surrounded by a high wall, stood the Oracle’s Tower itself, that beautiful, spiraling structure that Ellia and the others had seen when first entering the city.

It was then that Ellia realized what it was that had been driving her.

She quickly hurried across the square, stopping before each temple and finding herself confused by what she saw. These temples truly were shrines to the gods, but those gods were strange to her. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the plaques that could be found embedded in the ground before each temple entrance—she was, of course, nearly fluent in the common language of this continent—it was simply that she didn’t recognize the names of most of these gods. Corellon and Moradin, yes, and Silvanus she knew was the name by which Melora was worshipped here, but the other names were alien to her. She bit her lip slightly, worry clouding her thoughts. She was certain that what had been calling to her and leading her here was some small tendril of Jeyld’s presence, but she knew not how He could possibly have a temple on this continent, where music had yet to remembered.

Then where…?

Pondering this, Ellia continued to make her way from temple to temple, until she had stopped briefly before all nine. Finally, she made her way back to the temple of Corellon, a god that she was at least familiar with. Kneeling down before the entrance, Ellia closely studied the plaque that told not only the god’s name but also laid down his commandments: “Cultivate beauty in all that you do, whether you’re casting a spell, creating a work of art, or practicing the arts of war; Seek out lost magic items, forgotten rituals, and ancient works of art; Thwart the followers of darkness and chaos at every opportunity.” Reading these words, an idea suddenly came to her. Quickly, Ellia made her way to the next temple, and the next, crouching to read each plaque before moving on until she found what it was she had been looking for.

Before the temple of a god called Torm, Ellia read the words upon the plaque and smiled: “Uphold the highest ideals of honor and justice; Be constantly vigilant against evil and oppose it on all fronts; Protect the weak, liberate the oppressed, and defend just order.” Though the name of the god was unfamiliar to her, these commandments were not. This god, Torm, must be the name by which Belradontius, father of Jeyld, was worshipped here on the mainland. She closed her eyes and concentrated, seeking out… yes, there it was.

This must be the place from where I sense His presence emanating…

Standing to her feet once again, brushing dirt and dust from her knees, Ellia strode purposefully into the temple, her lute clutched tightly against her chest. As she entered, she passed a few worshippers on their way out, their eyes darting from side to side, scanning the shadows outside the temple for any sign of danger. Ellia sighed, vowing silently that she would end the Steel Star’s presence in this city—no, throughout the whole of Bolermos—as soon as possible.

Her footsteps echoed throughout the holy structure. High ceilings dominated the temple, and that comforting, golden glow of twilight filtered down from on high through four large skylight windows. Torches held in wall sconces lit the temple, combining with the light from the high windows to fully dispel any shadows that may have ordinarily lingered in distant corners of the massive, open chamber. Rows of pillars lined the way to the raised dais upon which Torm’s altar rested; a massive carving of a towering warrior armed with a greatsword in one hand and a heavy shield in the other filled the wall behind the altar, sapphires encrusting his armor and arms.

So, Ellia thought to herself, an amused smile lighting up her face, this is how Belradontius is seen by His worshippers here. She wasn’t surprised, really. A deity’s appearance meant nothing in reality, and had been known in the past to change from region to region. What truly mattered, of course, was that their commandments were followed, regardless of how their followers perceived them.

“Hello, my child,” a kindly, elderly man spoke, stepping down from the dais with his arms spread wide in a gesture of welcome. He was short by most people’s standards, though he still stood an inch or two taller than Ellia herself, and his long, silver hair fell past his shoulders in a cascade that moved and rippled in the flickering torchlight as he walked toward her. He wore a plain set of priestly robes, unadorned save for a single blue stone set into a broach at his collar. “I have been waiting for you. Your presence here is most welcome, dear one.”

“Waiting for me, but how—?”

The priest laughed, a rich, pleasant sound. “He came to me in a dream,” the old man answered with a smile, gesturing toward the stone carving of Torm, “in the form of a radiant blue dragon. He told me that you would be arriving soon, and that you would establish here a shrine to His son, Jeyld of the Sapphire.” His eyes flicked momentarily to the lute that Ellia held as he went on, saying, “He said that you would bring with you a power both new and ancient at the same time; a gift to the people here that would raise their spirits and pierce the darkness that has come to rule this place.” He placed a comforting hand on Ellia’s shoulder, and with that simple touch came a rush of peace and reassurance that assuaged any of the pale golden-haired woman’s lingering fears and doubts. The priest guided her up the steps of dais, where he indicated that she was to play. “Come, we should waste no more time, child.”

Nodding, Ellia leaned shifted her lute into position, securing the strap over her shoulder as she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and whispering a silent prayer to Him, asking for his divine touch to carry the sound of her music to the ears of all within the temple square. A heavy silence descended upon the temple of Torm, and Ellia could hear the priest at her back take in a sharp, anxious breath.

As her fingers made their first run across the strings, the priest wept with joy.

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AMdG

He had sent Clef away. He sat here, within his still and empty realm, and he guided her. He watched her, protected her, and brought her to where she was needed. He sighed. There was no going back. He did as he was instructed.

Jeyld stood as Ellia brought out her lute. His father had warned him about this moment. As Ellia's delicate fingers rested upon the first string, time seemed to stand still for Jeyld. Her fingers slid down and played a chord...

Power! An explosion of belief! Pain erupted across Jeylds form and he convulsed. Everything mortal within him struck out... everything that was once gnome rebelled! Tears rolled down his cheeks, but not from pain. He wept for his loss. The second chord was struck and a new surge of agony hit him. His essence was burning. His mind was aflame. And through it all, he watched. With each strumming of his Priestess' lute, a small part of him died. And was reborn. He watched as his form was rent open. As his body was torn apart. As his realm took shape.

A mountain erupted within the bare nothing that he had resided in. It burst from thin air and rooted itself as the center of his kingdom. The rest sprung from that starting point. Trees and lakes, rivers and islands, it all violently burst forth. Water cascaded from the sky to fall into it's place. Trees ripped open the ground with leaves fast growing. And as Jeyld felt a new surge of pain he opened his mouth and screamed forth a flock of ravens. The sky itself coalesced into a swirling chaotic maelstrom. But small sapphire stars shone their light upon the land and kept the only constant. Lightning seemed to spark between those blazing jewels and shadows jumped.

But the pain! Jeyld felt so much pain! Days of endless agony wrapped in a song! Screaming, he curled up and smashed the ground, and the mountain split. And from the crack rose a magnificent sapphire hall. A seat of power. A place of music. An arena of battle. All those things that Jeyld had embodied in his life, he now embodied in his godhood. His chaotic personality became the sky. His love of beauty became the land. His very soul became a flock of black birds. His memory of home became that mountain. And his love of music and battle became that Beryl Jewel. His body, however, became something else.
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Ellia's song had ended. The congregation wept and the old priest placed a shaking hand upon her shoulder, his eye's shining with tears. He nodded to her and bade her follow him. He lead her to an adjacent room. It was cleared and completely emtpy.

"I was told to help you. Although this is the best I can offer at this moment, know that our temple is now your temple as well. Torms son shall have a place here. An altar. We will help you to petition the city to build a new temple," here the priest faltered, "but given present circumstances you may be better off keeping this within whispers."

"Thank you, kind priest. You have done much. May I be alone? So that I may pray?" Ellia's face was tear streaked as she asked the man and he simply nodded and walked out the door.

She knelt down upon the floor and clasped her hands before her. "Thank you, lord Jeyld. I see the path you have given me and I shall gladly walk it. I will spread your notes across this city and this continent shall know your music once more. I shall lead the masses in prayer as your priestess-"

"No." A pure note interrupted Ellia's prayers and, startled, she looked up. A being descended from the light of the window, blinding her in it's brilliance. An array of crystals surrounded the entity and it wasn't until they folded up as he alighted upon the ground that she realized they were wings. It seemed to be made completely of crystal. Two large blue gems jutted back from the top of the head, creating the shape of horns and two others seemed to be in the place of eyes and a third pointed off the chin in a strange parody of a beard. It wore a strange armor over its crystal body that seemed to be made of a dull sapphire, but it's arms and feet were bare. She noticed that its hands and feet were clawed and watched another appendage, perhaps a tail, swung out from behind it. She thought the creature may be a demon come to claim here. But then a feeling of peace, of grace and beauty, calmed her. And a familiar tingle upon her neck made startled her.

"Wha-... who... are you? My... lord?"

"Yes, my child." It's voice was purest music. Singing from the creatures very body. And she stared as she realized it had no mouth. But... not it... it was... "I am Jeyld, Ellia. I have changed."

"What has happened to you, my lord?"

"I have finally come into true godhood. This is my form now. And I wear it with pride. My mortal body was no longer... sufficient. And so I lead you here. To where your music would have the greatest impact upon this continent. You were the catalyst for this change. And now my realm has been set, and I am a god recognized by the other gods." He stepped down before her and layed a crystal hand on her shoulder. She was amazed at how soft and warm it was. "I thank you, Ellia. You, in essence, created me. And so, I must tell you that you will no longer be my priestess." Ellia was taken back. Shocked, she felt she had failed. A tear fell down her cheek once more.

"No, child. Do not cry. You have simply gone beyond that which a priestess can do. You are my chosen. You are to find a new leader for my church. But first you must become that which you are meant to be." He lifted his hand and small crystal flaked off and hung in the air. It slowly spun and turned a shade of deep blue. It drifted toward her and grew, soon encompassing her form. Light engulfed the room and she stood once more. Plate armor now adorned her frame and she was amazed at how comfortable it felt on her, how easily she wore it. "You are to be my warrior, Ellia. But if you are to hold up my ideals then you must also cherish beauty. This armor will appear as any adornment you wish." She thought of a dress she once wore as a child, it was a beautiful gown and although the original was a deep crimson, she imagined it as blue and white. She watched as the armor flowed into that shape.

Jeyld laughed as she stared wide eyed and her soul lifted at the sound, for it was music! Music in all forms! "Very good, my child. But a warrior does not merely dress the part. Give me your lute." She handed him Azure Song and gasped as he shattered it! "You held a mere copy of my instrument. Now, I give you the true Azure Song." A beautiful new lute appeared before the god. "I once gave a paladin my old sword. I am not sure if the others told you about him. His name was Kidrin. He was a mighty warrior and I chose him for my father. But he gave up my sword and followed his own path. So now I give Baritone to you as well as Soprano." A miniature great sword and a small crossbow now floated with the lute. "This seems a bit much to carry, however, and these weapons would not do for one of your size." He brought his hands up to encompass the items and lightning flashed between them, obscuring Ellia's sight. As her vision returned she now saw just the lute. But it looked different. The instrument now looked far more intricate. The carvings and designs seeming to come alive as her eyes swept over them.

"Azure Song is no more. This is Cobalt Symphony. At your command it shall be a simple instrument, a deadly blade, or a masterful bow. It shall force your foes to hear my destructive notes and shall never need arrows for music is your quiver. Take it and be one with it." Ellia grasped the lute in her hands and felt its weight and its power. With a thought she changed it to a massive sword and felt shock at how easily she could heft it. The blade seemed to be made of flowing silver and a crystal hung in it's center. The crossguard was music note of sapphire and the pummel was shaped like the head of a lute. Her thoughts turned to the bow and instantly the weapon changed. It was shaped like dragons wings with small sapphires set within the wood. She lightly struck the string and single note, again, like a lute, sang out. But another thought crossed her mind and she frowned. She looked up at her deity, concerned.

"Master, I do not know how to use a bow."

Again he laughed. "My dear, dear Ellia. You are a bard! You have gift for adding flair and looking your best in all situations! Simply strike a pose and pull the string taut, Cobalt Symphony will do the rest!" She seemed confused for a moment but she smiled as she comprehended the idea. Her eyes filled with tears once more, but not out of sadness, from joy that Jeyld had chosen her once more.

"I must go, my child. There is much to do now that my realm has been set. Know that you are in my care. The Beryl Jewel awaits you as your eternal reward. Now go, find me another priest. Find one who will lead as you fight." His words and his form faded and soon Ellia was alone. But not truly, for she felt Jeylds presence keenly and knew that she would never be truly alone.

Torm’s priest gazed in awe at the mountain of riches at his feet.

Ellia stood before him, radiating divine power unlike anything that the priest had ever felt before. She held her enchanted haversack upside down before her, having dumped its contents on the temple floor before the altar of Torm. Silver, copper, even gold coins lay interspersed with jewels and gems, small bejeweled daggers and rings, and every other manner of valuable trinkets.

“But… But, where…?” the old man stammered, his hands shaking as he reached into the pile of riches. “My lady, where did all of this come from?”

“Fear not, Father,” Ellia responded with a smile, her voice melodious and carrying a hint of power not heard before. “It was all freely given, you have my word. Music is a powerful and moving force; those who have never before heard it are affected greatly, and they find themselves filled with a generosity that they may otherwise lack.” Slinging her now-empty pack over her shoulder, Ellia continued. “So long as a shrine to my master remains here, you will never find yourself lacking funds. This is a gift; take half of what is here for yourself, to use in whatever way you see fit.”

“And the other half?”

“The other half,” Ellia said softly, gesturing around her with an outstretched hand, “you will use to construct a temple to Jeyld. Soon I will find someone to act as High Priest on His behalf, and I will do what I can to prepare him. The rest is up to you, Father; it must be you who teaches my successor the ways of the priesthood.”

The old priest rose stiffly to his feet, grunting slightly as his joints protested. “Then I shall accept this gracious gift, on behalf of you and your god. Surely Jeyld shall prosper here, under the roof of his own father’s temple until a suitable home can be created specifically for him.”

“Then I thank you,” Ellia said, laying a hand gently on the priest’s cheek.

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Power surged through her.

As she walked through the darkened city, Ellia’s body trembled slightly from this new energy that radiated from her, imbuing her with divine strength and power; power that was entirely hers to use as a weapon against the enemies of her god. She stopped in the middle of an empty street, Cobalt Symphony’s comforting weight hanging from her shoulder. A cool night breeze stirred the hem of her elegant gown and her lengthening golden hair.

I can’t believe this, she thought to herself. This power, it’s so unreal… Shaking off her amazement at being a vessel for such a pure, rich energy, Ellia continued making her way toward the inn, quickening her pace a little when she noticed a mob of people standing outside the Drunken Jester, pushing and cajoling until they were adjacent to the entrance or any one of the open windows. Again Ellia stopped, disbelieving of what she heard emanating from within the crowded establishment.

Music, soft and delicate, drifted through the now silent mob of people. Ellia tilted her head to the side a little as she listened to the airy notes, played on what sounded like some sort of wooden pipe. She took a couple steps closer, straining her ears to hear the tune, one that was startlingly familiar to her.

That’s the same song that I was playing when… It suddenly all made sense to her now. Last night, the innkeeper’s son was rapt when I was playing this; he was even tapping out a rhythm on the bar and humming—actually humming—along!

Slowly, Ellia unslung Cobalt Symphony from her back, positioning it in front of her and letting her fingers pluck a counter-melody to the song being played inside the Drunken Jester. Immediately, the rearmost portion of the crowd turned their enthralled attention to her, parting in the center and giving her an open path into the Inn. She walked among them, playing all the while, until she stood in the center of the common room.

There, in the middle of a circle of captivated citizens, the innkeeper’s young son stood playing a small, hand-carved, rough wooden flute. At his feet, a pile of wealth was steadily growing as those who stood listening tossed coins and gems onto the floor in front of him. The boy swayed in time with the music, his eyes closed as he focused on nothing but his playing. If he heard Ellia’s accompaniment at all, showed no sign.

Finally the song ended, marked by an audible sigh from the surrounding listeners.

The boy lowered his pipe, opened his eyes, and—upon seeing Ellia standing before him—promptly dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead against the floor in a sign of complete submission. His body trembled as Ellia knelt before him, laying a hand upon his quaking shoulder. Cautiously he looked up at her, meeting her green eyes with his own blue ones. A lock of raven hair fell over his face, and Ellia laughed musically as she brushed it aside.

“My lady, forgive me,” the boy said softly, lowering his eyes. “I meant no disrespect by doing this… I,” he swallowed hard, as if afraid to speak to Ellia. “I only thought that, if I could get some money by doing this, like you did, then maybe I could help my father out a bit.” Tears welled up in his eyes as he went on, his voice shaky. “Business hasn’t been so great these days, you know, what with the—”

“Shhhhhh,” Ellia broke in, gently taking the boy into her arms. “You have nothing to apologize for, little one.” She held him out at arm’s length, as if to get a better look at him. He was quite a beautiful child, though given his half-elven heritage that was no surprise, and his large, piercing blue eyes held a world in intelligence that Ellia found astounding in one so young. I wonder… Could this be…?

As if in answer to her unfinished, unspoken question, that familiar sensation across the back of her neck—like the kiss of the wind on a warm summer day—caused her to smile broadly. Standing to her feet, Ellia extended a hand to the child.

“What is your name?” she asked as the boy took her proffered hand and stood on unstable legs.

“Lindel,” the young half-elf answered quietly, blushing a little under Ellia’s close scrutiny.

“You have a rare and beautiful gift, Lindel,” the former High Priestess of Jeyld assured him, drawing him into a close embrace once again. Over Lindel’s shoulder, Ellia saw Nine standing on the opposite side of the room, leaning against the wall with his hand resting absently on the hilt of his longsword. With a slight gesture of her head, Ellia indicated that the mysterious sorcerer should see to clearing out the inn.

With a bit of convincing, Nine—with the help of Azerin—managed to empty the common room of all but themselves, Ellia, Lindel, and the innkeeper, who stood in shocked silence behind the bar, pale and sweating. Azerin walked over to stand at Ellia’s shoulder, waiting to see what she would do next. As he neared the beautiful young woman, Azerin felt a peculiar tingling sensation washing over him, as if by simply being so close to Ellia he was standing in the presence of power.

I don’t know where she’s been, or what she’s been doing, the dragonborn thought, but whatever’s happened, it seems that our Ellia isn’t quite the same person that she was before. His eyes scanned her slender body, noting also the drastic change to her wardrobe. No, not quite the same at all…

“Lindel,” Ellia said lovingly, stroking the boy’s silky hair, “do you know what a miracle is?” Lindel nodded, looking a bit confused. “Good. That’s very good. Lindel, I think that what has happened here is a real miracle. What you were doing, playing that song, that isn’t something that just anyone can do; did you know that?”

“No…”

“Well, it isn’t. And even if someone does have the ability to make music like that, it usually takes a long, long time and a lot of special training before they’re as good as you are.” At Lindel’s amazed expression, Ellia laughed. “You’re very special, Lindel, and I think you were given this gift for a very important reason.”

“An… An important reason?” the child repeated, clutching his little wooden flute protectively against his chest. “What reason, Miss Ellia?”

Ellia smiled and kissed Lindel lightly on the forehead. “Lindel,” she said gently, her voice carrying a hint of music and power, “let me tell you about my master. Let me tell you about Jeyld…”

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Ellia smiled down at the sleeping boy.

The two musicians occupied a long, padded bench that sat against the inn’s far back wall, Ellia sitting and humming a quiet lullaby while Lindel slept, his head upon her lap. The two had spoken long into the night, and now with dawn quickly approaching, the young half-elf had collapsed into an exhausted sleep.

Ellia gently stroked the boy’s silky, raven hair, sighing as she did so. She had learned through their conversation that Lindel had lost his mother some years ago, and it seemed as if he had instantly taken to Ellia, perhaps seeing her as some kind of motherly figure. She didn’t mind, really, for Ellia herself had lost her mother when she was very young, though she’d not had anyone to take her place.

Memories long buried flooded into the young woman’s mind, forcing her to recall those dark times of long ago…

Almost immediately she felt Jeyld’s divine presence around her, comforting her, and forcing those lonely memories away, to trouble her no more. She smiled, for it seemed as if she could hear the newly ascended deity’s musical voice whispering in her ear.

“You will never be alone again, child. Never again.”

Turning her attention once again to Lindel, Ellia allowed her mind to drift back to her childhood, to those times when her mother had still been with her. She wasn’t filled with grief or sadness at those memories, merely a sense of longing for something that was long since gone. She leaned down, lightly kissing the boy on his cheek, remembering how she had longed as a child to grow up and become a mother. Even after her own had perished, still Ellia had wanted to raise children of her own, to be the mother to them that she had known only for so short a time.

Maybe that’s what had drawn her and Lindel so instantly close: the child’s need for a loving, mother-figure and Ellia’s own childhood wish to become just that.

It was a wish that she knew she would never, now, be able to see fulfilled. The former barmaid had pledged herself entirely to Jeyld; there was no room in her heart for anyone else. As much as this realization would have caused her distress in the past, now Ellia felt completely calm and at ease, for she knew that in Jeyld she had found a special bond that she could never share with another mortal being. And after knowing such a profound and pure love, the young paladin also knew that it would be unfair to try and share herself with another, for she would only have half of her heart in it, if even that.

Lindel stirred, drawing Ellia’s attention to him once again. She smiled and whispered comforting words to the child, promising him that within the enveloping comfort of Jeyld’s presence, he would never be alone again.

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As Jeyld's realm, the Beryl Jewel, continued to take shape in his absence, something darker occurred. It was true that Jeyld's personality and memories had given this utopia it's shape, but, like all mortals, he had a darker side. These shadows of thought and feeling seeped out of the newly made realm and they stole other memories and facets of the new god's former life. They took knowledge of old foes, they ripped some chaos from the sky, they even stole one of the sapphire stars, forever leaving a small patch of nothingness. These shadows, after their plunder, came together and took a shape and then drifted into the mortal world...

Alright, I guess that finishes this one. Way to go Josh, we did awesome!

AMdG