Upon my waking in this land, bereft of memory save my name, I was directed to a large aged temple upon the very edge of Milenth, sent by the kindly innkeeper after a long and pleasant conversation. Each traveler treads upon these mystic symbols whilst on their Journey, their complex enchantment draining the will and vigor from their guests. After my Choosing, I didst spend much time within the walls of this hallowed place, studying the symbol and utilizing mine own strength to keep the young visitors upon their feet.

The place has a very austere and foreboding air, the cold stone and rough carvings lit only by the light of the flickering braziers upon the granite pedestals near the door-like passages. From speaking and my own determination, I suspect this be the work of the Tuatha de dannan, to aid with the Choosing of the Aisling. Each orb has upon it an enchantment, and upon the center where the magic be at it’s peak, ye can hear the voices that guide the young to their enlightenment, to the place of the Master of their Path.

Yet few do truly gaze upon the nested rings and ponder of their meaning, and that is what I did set out to do. By mine determinations, this artifact be a subtle rendition of the nature of our land and culture, until the outer sphere of what I term the Nexus is reached. All resides in the Nexus, free-moving and unbound, yet contained. The edge of the Nexus be creation and destruction, and naught exists past that boundary.

Within the Nexus lie the realms and creatures, all interconnected and bound unto each other. Nothing can exist or flourish be it freestanding, all require the aid and support of the other elements, and with all support, the growth is unfettered and strong. Each is but a part of the whole, and the most magnificent is on the event which all parts wok together, and miracles can happen.

Looking upon the sketch, I see the places within the Nexus where the good of the realm does not hold sway, those placed unconfined by the rings of the Tuatha. Within the darkness of this emptiness be the places where the creatures of the dark spawn in their deep hatred of the light and all that is pure. Only the united faith of the Lightbringers keeps these at bay, staving off the assaults with their bodies and faith, supporting each other with their uniqueness.

And so the classes of the Aislings are intertwined, each harshly unable to do alone even a faint glimmer of what their combined abilities can do. Wizards wield the might of the elements with ease, yet without the strength of the Warrior before them they fall under the onslaught of the dark. Even the Warrior falters with time, be there no Priest to nurture the body and soul. Yet the Priest shan’t stand under assault where the barehanded agility of the Monk holds sway. And at times, the Monk fails at the feat that a Rogue can do with ease. Yet without the backing of a Wizard, the Rogue would fall to death.

All is intertwined, linked beyond comprehension. Yet all stand together in their existence within the Nexus. Ponder upon this and ye shall find that the world opens up to ye, and with that opening comes wisdom and strength in the backing of friends and companions. Tis a long journey to attempt alone, take heart from the circles.

-Virgil Delos, Priest and Scholar