Editing The Secret Origin Therrin Flare

== Part One: Sestamon ==

Sestamon only thought for a moment. "This form is obviously far more useful than I'd be if I were to change back now.  Let it remain and we can see our way through this."  His face twisted in a wry grin.  "If we survive, then we can talk about reverting back."

That decision made they moved out again.  A few minutes later the wizard indicated that his concentration was done and the transformation to Sestamon was now permanent.  Just a minute more and they found their path ended at an imposing set of iron doors.  With effort they were able to get them open and proceeded into the room beyond.  A wide circular chamber devoid of much but a slight depression in the center, above which hovered a swirling sphere of black pulsing energy.  Next to it stood a figure that was unexpectedly unimposing.  And beyond was a broad wall that was open to the outside world.  Looking through the companions could see that they were high in the air, well above Ptolus.  They were actually in the Spire itself, and again Sestamon felt a chill down his spine, the premonition of his first day in Ptolus returning fiercely and giving him momentary pause.  But then he focused again on their goal.

It was indeed the final abode of their long hidden enemy.  Now confronting the evil in the flesh, they see not a demon or devil or abomination, but a human, a female who was clearly steeped in the necromantic arts.  With a cry the companions attacked.  Once again spells flashed, blades slashed, and energies exploded through the room.  In a desperate effort to at least take her enemies with her, the necromancer cast a powerful spell that intersected the sphere of energy, just as Sestamon was slashing at her with a blow that no doubt would have blasted her into dust with its infusion of divine power.  All of these energies came together in a sudden clash, and the result was a huge explosion that blasted Sestamon, the necromancer, and the remaining companions to edges of the chamber.  The intensity of the blast left all of them unconscious.

When he awoke, Sestamon wasn't in a circular chamber.  He wasn't inside even.  He was laying on a root that was connected to a tall tree, the likes of which he'd never seen.  Branchless and smooth, the trunk rose several tens of feet before thick, broad leaves sprouted at the top.  Rising to his feet, he saw that he was in a jungle.  Confusion overwhelmed him for a moment, but without effort his heightened intellect was able to recognize that the explosion of magical energies must have transported him somewhere else on Praemal, since there were no jungles near Ptolus.  Taking stock of his situation, he realized he needed to get back to Ptolus to help his friends.  Without any immediate options for instantaneous long range travel he turned invisible for safety, and flew straight up into the air.  

Rising into the unfamiliar sky, Sestamon saw that the jungle stretched as far as he could see.  Adding to the difficulty, the air was thick with mists that obscured even the land directly beneath him by the time he'd ascended to one hundred feet.  Undeterred, Sesatmon flew up, intent on getting a view of the night sky.  Eventually the mists above him thinned, and the sky came into view, a blanket of black void dotted with stars in their legions.  While he wasn't particularly familiar with astronomy, he could see pretty easily that this was not the night sky of Ptolus.  Again he felt confusion - he didn't really understand it before, but now he could grasp what the wizards and clerics meant when they said Praemal was locked off from other worlds.  How did he get here?

Now that he had the sun to guide him, he turned his back on it and headed west.  He flew all day and kept eyes and ears peeled for signs of civilization and intelligent life.  He didn't find any, but the breadth of flora and fauna he did see was impressive.  Whatever this world might be it was certainly different from the one whence he came.  Curious, Sestamon continued his journey and watched for any chance that he might find some help to figure out a way home.  Soon he did find signs of intelligent life, but it was of an extremely brutish nature.  A tribe of wild orcs was living among the trees, and with his spells he could tell that they were very evil.  Even if they had any power to help him they clearly would not.  Still, he watched them for a few days to learn what he could, and he found that the name of this world was Quelmar.  He learned a few more details, and then he continued on his way west.  Part of him considered attacking the orcs, stopping them from causing wanton death and misery to the people who lived in the surrounding areas.  But he realized, to his chagrin, that despite his heightened intellect he didn't know enough to know how such a change would affect the area.  Perhaps some other even worse force would arise.  With a sigh he continued on his journey.

As he flew on invisibly, although still with his image looking like a small giant and not an angel, he eventually came to the edge of the jungle.  Savannah stretched out before him now, and he flew on for several days.  It was then that he finally changed his path for a while.  He came upon a farming village on the savannah, and for the first time he found people whose goodness was truly bright in this strange world.  Watching for a time, he found that the many families here were caught in a drought, and that their meager resources included a priest whose ability was quite limited.  He could conjure barely a barrel of water a day, and that didn't go far for the ten dozen people who called the village home.  Sestamon felt the calling of his celestial nature to aid those of a goodly disposition, but as with the orcs he was uncertain of how his actions might impact this alien world.  Conflicted, he finally decided to use his commune spell to help guide his choice.  He realized it might be a drastic action resulting in his immediate destruction, but the helplessness of his situation and his desire to be useful ultimately overrode his doubts.  He withdrew from the area near the village, and settled into a comfortable position in a small copse of trees, one of the few to be found this far into the savannah.

Sestamon felt a pang of regret at that word, but with what he considered to be permission to live a life, he set back out to the savannah village to see if he could be helpful.  He already had a couple of ideas on what spells he could use to really make a difference.  He just needed to take the right approach, so that he didn't seem too offputting to the people of the village.  Still concerned an angel twice their height might be a bit too much, he opted to use his giant image and to introduce himself as a "jungle giant" from the southeast.  He pondered an explanation for his presence on the savannah, and by the time the village came in sight once again he had a pretty good idea of what he'd say.

It didn't take long before he had his chance to talk.  As he drew within a quarter mile of the village he was easily visible.  Soon the villagers noticed him, and some of the men with a more warrior demeanor gathered weapons moved towards Sestamon.  He kept his slow and steady pace, and as he moved within speaking distance there was a crowd of at least twenty warriors along with forty odd villagers gawking at the sight before them.  When Sestamon was within twenty feet of the group he stopped, looking back and forth over the crowd as they looked at him with anticipation.  Some were clearly fearful this might be their very last day in the world, shaking visibly while holding a weapon, or the hand of their neighbor.  Hoping to lower the tension, Sestamon spoke.

Sestamon was immediately popular with his aid proving invaluable in controlling the weather, but his healing powers were also put to good use.  Over the next weeks he called rain as often as needed, and with care and hard work the villagers were once again able to produce a viable harvest.  His healing powers saved lives in a few dire situations, and he quickly became a favored part of the life of the village.

After a season of living with (or near - he was much too large for their homes) the villagers, Sestamon felt comfortable enough to reveal his true story to them.  He spoke with Zelda and Reginald and asked to have time to address the village during the fall harvest celebration.  Since there wouldn't have been a celebration without his assistance they readily agreed.  The continuous dedication Sestamon had shown to the calling of rain and the tending of the harvest had meant that the produce was particularly fruitful.  As the meal was shared and laughter abounded, many stories were told of the trials of the past and how the current bounty was a sign of the favor of Pelor, who had sent their new friend to aid them.  As the mirth settled into a quiet contentment as the evening wore on, Sestamon looked at the elders who both nodded, then he stood and gathered the attention of the villagers.

"Indeed," Reginald continued.  "You aided us, and you only took a bit of food to maintain the illusion that you were in fact getting something in return for your help.  But in truth, what did you really gain?"  He addressed the crowd generally now.  "What did he get out of helping us that he couldn't have gotten more easily on his own?  Nothing."  He turned back to Sestamon.  "I look at you, Sestamon, and I see the answer to our prayers, and your choice to help with no thought for yourself shows the truth of Pelor's guidance in bringing you to us - maybe even to our world."  He addressed all one last time.  "We have been blessed to have been granted such friendship.  And we'll do what we can to help you in return, and find where you can acquire the assistance you need to return home."  He gave a Sestamon a wry grin.  "Though if you could continue to help with the harvest, we'd appreciate it!"  Chuckles echoed through the crowd, and the tension which had built dissipated.  The crowd dispersed back into smaller groups celebrating, and Sestamon relaxed without deception for the first time since coming to Quelmar.

After that life settled into a more or less normal routine.  Sestamon continued to use his illusory visage on a daily basis, more out of habit than anything else, although the idea of some day encountering strangers while in the form of a planetar was in the back of his mind.  He still wanted to keep a low profile as much as possible - who knew what sort of trouble would be stirred up if rumors of an angel started to spread?

Having spent far longer than he'd ever intended in Quelmar already, Sestamon was eager to begin his studies.  He maintained a high altitude, far enough that he'd be invisible from the ground even without his spell, and since he needed neither sleep nor nourishment, he continued on his path until his destination came into view.  From a distance he could see that Galik was a city of a size and scope to rival Ptolus back home.  With growing confidence he descended to a few miles outside of town.  He dismissed his invisibility but kept his giant illusion active as he began walking to the city gates.  His approach raised some eyebrows amongst the gate guards, and he was taken aside and questioned briefly about his intentions.  But, while unusual, beings such as a jungle giant were not unheard of in Galik, for this was the largest city on the surface of Quelmar.

Once granted access to the city and given directions to appropriate accommodations, Sestamon made his first order of business finding out where to learn magic.  A few quick questions to some curious locals (while not unheard of, giants were still a bit of a rarity) revealed that there were many wizards associated with the guild scattered throughout the city.  Each district contained a single mastery tower, along with some adept towers and several apprentice towers.  Membership within the guild was limited and only the death of a member resulted in a new opening, but most of the adepts and some of the masters took on students, many of whom went on to become members of the Free Defenders, or adventurers who travelled the world and brought honor to the guild through their deeds.  Encouraged, Sestamon took residence in a small (for a giant) shed on the property of the only inn in Galik that catered exclusively to giants.  Unfortunately for him the main rooms were designed for huge giants, and while Sestamon was large and certainly impressively sized compared to most humanoids, he was himself small in comparison to the room and furniture available to true giants.  So he was set up in a shed that was fitted with a bed of the right size, and he set out to find himself a magic instructor.

"Enter, and make your way to the tower.  Your request will be considered."

Sestamon felt the resistance vanish and moved through the gateway.  Once through he was in a short tunnel about ten feet long which opened into the compound for the master's tower.  It was large and while there were some buildings here and there within the walls, the tower itself was the main structure herein.  He approached the tower, taking in the perfectly manicured lawn and shrubs, and the gleaming walls of the compound.  Surely there was magic at work here.  As he reached the single entrance to the immense tower, the door - sized for a typical human - grew and expanded and widened until it was large enough to easily allow him admittance. The door then swung inward, and without waiting for further invitation Sestamon walked inside, ready to begin his career in magic.

He found he was a quick study - his years of training as a warrior had not required the same level of intellectual focus, but the discipline of repeatedly performing, failing, learning, and trying again was a great asset to him now.  Sestamon quickly advanced through the basics of wizardry, and within a short time was able to master spells powerful enough to be an effective spellcaster for a team.  With that in mind he began to seek out new companions, to both provide service to the community as well as challenge his abilities by taking up the mantle of adventurer.  He was able to find ready and willing partners since his inherent abilities were already a worthy inclusion in a group.  Adding his magical prowess made him formidable even in his first endeavors.  Soon he had a reputation as an able leader and fierce defender, able to take the fight to the enemy as well as bolster his allies.  Within a few years he founded his own adventuring company and started on his quest to finally find a path home.