Final Chapter - Champion

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4E 201

"Lord Sheogorath, please grant us passage to your realm," Dexpa whispered to himself.

"What did you say?" Jo'navir asked.

"I was casting a spell," Dexpa explained as a portal appeared in front Shalidor's Maze. "It'll take us to the Shivering Isles."

"When did you learn that?" Jo'navir asked in surprise.

"A lot has happened since we've been separated," Dexpa added, starting to walk towards the portal. "Let's go."

Jo'navir tapped Vaskr's back signaling him to come into the portal. He followed his master's orders and the two of them went through side by side.

In the blink of an eye, they ended up in a place that partly resembled The Fringe, though the flora and atmosphere seemed entirely different from the one they knew originally.

In front of the party sat a village.

Curious, they entered to village to see if there were any people around. It was mostly barren aside from an inn that appeared to be open and well lit. They went inside.

"Welcome to 'The Wastrel's Purse,'" a woman called from behind the counter. "The only place still kicking in this little ghost town we call 'Passwall.' Can I get you boys a drink or a bed?"

The woman was as old as they come for wood elves. She could barely keep her eyes open, and her posture was stuck in a slouched over position. Her words sounded completely unmotivated and uninterested in what she was saying.

"We're from the Mania region of the Isles," Dexpa said, stepping closer to the counter to have a conversation. "Has anything important happened around here recently?" Jo'navir followed beside his brother as Vaskr sat next to him.

"Not recently, no," she replied. Ever since a hero saved us from the Greymarch 200 years ago, things have really calmed down around here."

"What's the Greymarch?" Jo'navir asked.

Dexpa explained, "Every era, those crystal knights roam the land and destroy everything that Lord Sheogorath made."

"There was no hero to save us from that mess," Jo'navir said. "How long has it been?"

"It's possible we're hundreds or even thousands of years in the future," Dexpa answered. "The Greymarch in our time must've been from several eras ago, however many years that may be."

"I guess that would explain the land and the flora looking so different," Jo'navir said looking out the window of the inn. "Hey, what is that?" he said looking further into the distance.

Out the window, the boys could see a massive white beam of light shooting out of the ground and into the sky above.

"That's our time wound," Dexpa said, admiring the light on the horizon. "We need to bring the scroll there. I have a strong feeling it'll bring us back to our time. I just know it."

"Then why are we wasting our time here?" Jo'navir scolded him.

"Because I was hoping to see the Mania region again," Dexpa said longing for answers. "I want to know what it looks like now."

"Let's get going then," Jo'navir said walking back to the door.

Another woman slammed the door open chiming into their conversation. "Hello Dredhwen!" she yelled boisteriously.

She was a dark elf woman about as old as the inn keeper.

The woman at the front desk let out an annoyed sigh. "Hello Relmyna. Shouldn't you be out snooping around the graves for body parts. You sick old woman," Dredhwen said to the other elf.

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