2011 Photo Gallery:
The Battle of Farthing Field
The Battle for Almsberg
Lower Mithalon Defense
Agamedien's Rest
Envoy to the Kingdom of Ghallant

Sarasith Reprised


After drifting in and out of vague and convoluted dreams for what seems like an eternity, Sarasith awakens, sure that he has just heard someone call his name. However he is greeted only by an eerie silence and soft violet hued light, emanating from all around him. Observing his surroundings he finds himself in a large circular room, devoid of any windows, doors or furnishings, save for the large slab upon which he lays. The slab seems to be made of polished amethyst, matching the floor, walls, and ceiling all around him. It seems familiar, yet foreign at the same time.

As he slowly and tentatively rises from the slab he inspects his person. He is adorned in the same enchanted robes that he last remembers wearing, in what's seems like another life, one not his own. But unlike that past life his body bears none of its defects, his face is unmarred, his body unbroken, and even his missing leg seems to have return to its rightful place.

As he stands to his feet, his body seems unsure of itself, as though it no longer remembers how to stand on two legs of flesh and bone. Sarasith stumbles and suddenly finds himself wishing he had his staff to lean on. As though the very thought has conjured it into existence his staff appears in his hands and he prevents himself from falling at the last moment by leaning on its comforting presence. As the fog recedes from his thoughts and his wits return to him, he is left wondering, "where am I?"


After drifting in and out of vague and convoluted dreams for what seems like an eternity, Sarasith awakens, sure that he has just heard someone call his name. However he is greeted only by an eerie silence and soft grey light, emanating from all around him. Observing his surroundings he finds himself in a large circular room, devoid of any windows, doors or furnishings, save for the large slab upon which he lays. The slab seems to be made of polished granite, streaked with veins of silver amethyst, matching the floor, walls, and ceiling all around him. It seems familiar, yet foreign at the same time.

As he slowly and tentatively rises from the slab he inspects his person. He is clothed in the same enchanted robes that he last remembers wearing, in what's seems like another life, one not his own. But unlike that past life his body bears none of its defects, his face is unmarred, his body unbroken, and even his missing leg seems to have return to its rightful place.

As he stands to his feet, his body seems unsure of itself, as though it no longer remembers how to stand on two legs of flesh and bone. Sarasith stumbles and suddenly finds himself wishing he had his staff to lean on. As though the very thought has conjured it into existence his staff appears in his hands and he prevents himself from falling at the last moment by leaning on its comforting presence. As the fog recedes from his thoughts and his wits return to him, he is left with a singular thought.

"Where am I?"