Sunlight streamed into the crystal which an old, blue dragonborn stared into. Scarred with many battles, his armor still fit correctly though it too bore many mars. For a long while the dragon-kin simply watched as the light was bent into it's array of colors. His mind wandered to forgotten battles, by-gone glories, and victories of long, long ago. Finally, letting the small crystal rest on his lap he looked around him at the glade of ancient heroes.

There were the alcoves created by Jeyld for each of the great saviors of Bolermos. Arius the dark, Febrian the Strong, Hayato the clumsy but lovable, even the halfling who rode in saddlebags... they each had a special place in the commonly known history of the City of No Names. This history, this knowledge and it's accompanying wisdom was taught to the dragonborn by the noble gnomes and passed on through the ages.

Grenit, a paladin by birthright, had lived all his long years in service to the Lord of Dragons. His heart though was focused on Ioun. Few now sought his knowledge in the Bolers, few sought to spread his ways to those who most desperately needed it.

My Lady of knowledge, Mistress of Wisdom... show me what I am to do. Show me how I can teach in this land of the witless and dumb. This city has become too wild, too warlike. We must seek your ways to gain true peace, not win it with battle and spilt blood...

****Elsewhere in the realms unknown to mortals****

Echoes of an elderly voice rang in Rakam's ears...

"...must seek your ways... true peace... spilt blood..." the deva repeated softly, "...spilt blood..."

A barely condensed form of spirit... many spirits hovered over a crystalline lake. Other spirits flitted about him going here and there, few of them in the denseness of this one. Rakam was not fully formed quite yet but he could see and hear what was to come. His time was soon, he would be sent back to mortal realms to live yet another life. Slowly he crossed over the lake into a city of crystal towers, each more splendid and beautiful than the next. An orderly sapphire tower straight and narrow rose beside a chaotic black complex that had no beginning, nor end. Ruby arrays of complex prisms and clear, many facetted diamonds created 'houses' for the spirits that roamed this part of the divine realms.

This of course was Ioun's city, but a portion of the realms surrounding it housing spirits and servants of many of the gods and goddesses of Bolermos. This of course is where Rakam lived when he was not formed in mortal realms...

Soon the shifting and ever-changing form that would be Rakam was at the greatest tower, centered within the city of Ioun. The doors were always open, always willing to share what knowledge was available. Inside floated Rakam, different parts of his many spirits watching, reaching, searching for different fields of knowledge and wisdom. There was so much to be gained here, though it was but a shadow.

One must seek to know in the physical before understanding in spirit...

Nonetheless, Rakam was more than exhilarated to be here once again.

A feminine voice formed within his minds, "Come, we shall discuss many things."

At the voice's bidding, he began to simply rise upwards, past eons of knowledge and wisdom. Past countless servants, each inspiring thought in the minds of mortals past, present and future. Lifetimes of history, science, religion at his very fingertips. But he knew he must find these things in the mortal realms, now was not his time... not yet.

Finally reaching the very top, a many hued, crystal chamber that looked out over all the realms, Rakam and his many spirits in one prostrated himself before a great and majestic eye. Rising at a simple thought formed within his head he stood tall and proud before Ioun in his glory. For what could have been days or years or eons in the mortal realms they strove and spoke within this chamber. All at once, darkness fell over Rakam's thoughts and he felt as if his form was condensing. As if, all of a sudden, he was given shape...

****Within the glade of heroes***

Grenit started at the sound of the night birds. He had dozed off, still sitting on the bench within the grove. Blinking the sleep from his eyes he looked around, nearly frantically at first until he caught the glint of glass beneath his seat. Slowly he leaned forward, the metal and leather of his armor creaking as loudly as his ancient bones, and began carefully picking up the pieces of crystal which had shattered on the paving stones.

A tear formed in his eye as the final piece was found. He stood and for the first time noticed the form standing in the shadows of alcove. It's back was to the paladin and looked as if small wings were sprouted from it's shoulders...

Damn... a demon here? How? This place is protected by the gods!

The ringing of a blade drawn from its sheath filled the grove, giving the figure pause. It did not turn, simply spoke. "There is no need for violence servant of Ioun. I am here as an emissary." The voice was as many different ones all speaking at once.

As the figure turned, Grenit saw for the first time the full glory of the devan race. Before him stood a human-like being of dark blue skin and white eyes. Stricken, the old paladin sat once more, his blade clattering loudly to the ground. Rakam took two steps forward, into the light of a lantern set at the center of the grove.

"Greetings, Kin of Dragons. I am Rakam, one who has lived countless lives. I come to spread our Lady's teachings." A small smile formed on the deva's face and Grenit noticed how proud and proper the being stood.

"Your here to... spread the word of Ioun? Does Ioun not know that only the Dragonborn can be here? That they will learn only from one another and those we do not name but are our masters?" Grenit's tone was incredulous.

"She knows all Kin of Dragons. It is we who must learn or perish. Perhaps she has a reason for my form though I am not aware of what this reason is." The devan paused for a moment to pull an orb from a holder at his hip. Looking into it intently he seemed to struggle with some thought before slipping it back to it's spot at his side. "I cannot glean this knowledge or the wisdom of her ways on this matter, perhaps in time we will come to understand."

Suddenly, the gates burst open and two files of blue Dragonborn marched in fully armed. Grenit rose and turn, gathering his sword as he did. A fierce fire burned in his eyes as he spotted the apparent leader, a black robed figure that strode through the files. The old paladin took a step forward but was stopped by an upraised hand.

"Do not attempt dissuade me old one. I am here to investigate this invasion..." The robed figure looked Rakam up and down before revealing his sneering black dragon face. "What in the name of the City is that?"

"He's a servant-" Again Grenit was stopped by an upraised hand.

"It was a rhetorical question old one, not meant for an answer... especially from you." Taking a few steps forward, the black figure came within striking distance of Rakam. "You are... devan are you not?"

"I am." Rakam's answer was accompanied by a small nod as he looked squarely into the black one's eyes.

"And you were sent by Ioun I see..." A hand raised to scratch the leering dragonborn's chin. "Interesting... perhaps I can glean some information from you." Pausing to chuckle he continues, "Painfully if need be."

"I do not think that would be wise Kin of Dragons." Rakam did not move or tense, he simply waited and watched the dark one standing before him.

A laugh, sinister in its very core, erupted from the dark one, "Is that a threat?" More laughing, "I do not think you could even survive one of us, let alone all of my men." At this Grenit grumbled softly, looking around at the paladins surrounding the grove. "I will get what I want from you devan, and I will get it when I want it. Or you -will- suffer greatly."

With a quick snap of his fingers, the black walked away as the files of paladins formed around Rakam. Grenit glared at the robed dragonborn as he passed and made his way back to the devan.

"I will find a way to release you." The old blue looked into Rakam's eyes and nodded once.

"I have no doubts." Rakam smiled slightly and walked out of the grove, surrounded by well over fifteen paladins.

I will find a way... I must. Ioun's will must be done...

This aspect of Rakam is formed as a tall male, lithely muscular in build. Though similar to a human in shape, his skin is a shade of dark blue with angular designs of light blue coursing throughout. A single diamond shaped mark adorns his forehead and two thin stripes flow from beneath his eyes, down over his cheek and jaw, and into the collar of his armor along his neck. His eyes are cloudy white in color with no obvious pupils. His armor is crafted of hardened lizard hide dyed a deep black and contrasted with robes of cerulean blue integrated within. Dark metallic wings seem to sprout from the shoulders of his armor and while offering no real protection, along with the simple crowned helm of blue cloth and black leather, add a strange, menacing quality to his appearance. At his hip hangs a light mace, the head of which is flanged and all formed of a blackened metal. Around his neck hangs a simple blue crystalline device shaped as the Eye of Ioun. On his back is a black lizard skin pack, neat and tidy in appearance and packing. At times he carries an orb which often changes brightness and hue as he looks into it. This device is kept in a specially designed pouch attached to his hip which locks tightly around it.

***A distant memory...***

The sound of the ocean's waves slowly lulled the Deva into a trance as he sat crosslegged on the sands. He was facing the sunrise, offering a ritual of celebration to another day... and another battle survived. Not a few hours before he had just finished tending to the last soldier of his unit. They had been fighting for three days, defending a small pass near a tiny fort used to watch the eastern borderlands. The fight was against undead, some of them men they had fought beside not days before. Finally, the defense was won and Rakam had the ugly duty of helping clean up.

Now he sat staring out over the sea, a place of peace for him after the many lifetimes he had lived. The calls of seabirds soothed him, the waves assisted his journey to peace, and the sand beneath him was a comfort to his shaken soul.

At least the ocean will never change... it simply exists, shaping and moulding the world as we know it... in all my life-times, it has been the only constant...

A bright flash rocked him from his inner musings. Looking up, a cloud shaped like a mushroom was forming on the eastern horizon, tiny but plainly visible from where he sat. For long moments he simply stared wide-eyed, his lip twitching slightly.

That... can NOT be good...

Moments later a few of his fellow soldiers burst from the forested shore onto the beach. One in particular, a heavily scarred dwarf with a forked red beard approached Rakam slowly. "Ey, joo see dat feckin' cloud come up? Looked loike it came from dat Elf ghostyard jah?"

The deva's eyes never left the horizon as he spoke, "Yes, Galdria. It was beautiful at one time..." He paused and rose to scoop up some sea water with a clay bowl that had been resting in the sands before him. Once the wide bowl was full he turned back towards his spot, only to stop and blink a few times. Slowly he turned back to the sea... which had receeded now at least ten feet.

What the in the name of all that is holy?

At nearly the same time, the dwarf, still standing where Rakam had been meditating moments before, realized what was wrong. "Feckin' Shite! The sea's disappearin'!" He and the other soldiers could only watch as the water, visibly drained...

Where... what... how... NO!

Rakam's normally peaceful countenance was now greatly disturbed, his face wracked with a mix of pain, fear and shock. "How could this be happening...?" Slowly, as if attempting to make his way through the water that seemed to be draining away, he made his way back to his ritual spot. Setting a blue orb before him in the sand, ritualized chanting began to flow from his lips. He formed a hollow depression into the sand, pouring the water into it. As he chanted the water began to boil and bubble, not sinking into the dry sand.

The dwarf at his shoulder, glanced down to watch the water with interest though his eyes are often on the receeding sea. Had he been intent he might have seen glimpses of the destruction of once was Galdria. Rakam's eyes were glued to the looking glass as visions of the battle flashed before his eyes. The sight of a dark, half-elf blasting fire at those he had fought beside not moments before, a dark looking elf driving his rapier into the heart of some stone looking artifact, a halfling... riding in saddlebags...

Lady Ioun guide my mind... if these are supposed to be adventurers... they must be the worst I've ever seen...

The visions continued to flash before him, a noble looking elf riding into battle with an evil looking creature, a Half-orc and human running away, hand in hand. "Gods help us..." he mumbled softly, provoking an odd look from the dwarf beside him.

"Whatcha seein' Lieutenant?" The red-beard bent over slightly to look deeper into the pool of water.

"The destruction of our world most likely... by a bunch of bumbling idiots... whatever it is they did, it's draining away the sea. This will not go well for us I think..." Rakam rose and gathered his things. With one last glance towards the sea, he sighed softly, shaking his head.


***In a cell overlooking the sea, City of No Names, many years later***

Sometimes... living so many lifetimes is a curse...

Rakam turned away from the window he had been staring out, a hand on the cold iron bar that was supposed to keep him from escaping. The thousand foot fall down a sheer cliff into the shallo sea may be able to do a bit to keep him in as well. Looking around the room he simply shook his head.

"Grenit, it has been nearly a month and two weeks now since my last... inquisition. What is happening, I've things I must be doing." Peace was apparent on the deva's face as well as in his tone though he questioned along this line.

A large blue dragonborn paced back and forth before the door, he too shook his head. "I don't know Rakam, I don't know. The council has been out on you for at least two weeks, many think as I do and that it would be an offense to Ioun for us to punish you in any way, but many more believe that any infraction against the sacred grove should be met with death."

Turning back to the window, Rakam leaned against the window sill and was for a long moment, silent.

"I do not think they will have me killed. You are leading an offensive against the demons are you not? Do you think you could convince them to allow me to accompany you?"

The massive dragonborn stopped in his tracks, a sad look in his eyes as he turned towards Rakam. "I do not know... I will try but... they will shackle you."

"I understand." Rakam smiled slightly, "I simply want to be rid of this cell for a while. Anything, but here Grenit..." His tone at the last fades into one of exhaustion and his peaceful countenance turns to one of worry. "Anything but here..."