Within Lorgen's infinite library, the goddess Freyes stomped between a labyrinth of endless towering bookshelves. Tomes of arcane knowledge, the writings of mad wizards, and the more mundane lined each and every inch of the shelves. Nearly endless lifetimes of writings were scattered with half-hazard chaos among the floor of the library threatening to trip the stomping goddess. The rare reading chair or table could be seen like a forgotten island amongst the sea of knowledge.

"Lorgen!" Freyes screamed. The divine power of her voice rippled and radiated throughout the library. Books shook with fear. The shelves rattled as they struggled to withhold the goddess's fury. Marching forward, she kicked a particularly offending tome. The tome shot forward down the aisle towards a bend in the path.

The air shifted, as a form instantly appeared in front of the speeding tome. A gloved hand extended as a surge of magic stopped the book in mid air. Lorgen's wings ruffled slightly, as he sent the book gently to an open spot within a nearby bookshelf.

"Finally! You deign to appear!" Freyes screamed.

"I was hoping you'd calm down if I waited...." Lorgen spoke. The myriad of voices spoke with pity, annoyance and guilt all at once. "It seems I was wrong."

"How could I Lorgen? I have been looking at my supposed champion? Have you seen what has transpired? Do you see how he carries himself?"

"And? Still alive?"

"Very. Pathetically so. Lorgen, do you remember what my champions are known for?"

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"Should I?"

"Leadership, martial prowess, and divine healing. Not some parlor trick! Not a personal chef! Not a distillery!" Freyes screamed. Grabbing her hair, she pulled on her radiantly golden hair. "He's useless. He hasn't even managed to kill the undead pursuing him!"

"So? Should he have killed them? Running from danger is typically more prudent."

"He should have just killed them! All he's doing is running away!"

"That is wise. It seems he has a strong survival instinct." Lorgen said. The swirling mixture of his speech, spoke with all manner of emotion. Some voices snarled, while many were cold and biting, while most spoke with a constrained neutrality. Lorgen's words echoed like a symphony bouncing around the tomes and books of his library.

"Not! If you want to lead the beastkin!"

"Freyes, he's still alive. Surely that counts for something."

"He needs strength! He needs strength to lead them! What did you give him?"

"Magical power. What else? Surely that is enough? I understand your anger but he hasn't failed yet."

"He will! He can't even wrangle the group he has set out with! Lorgen! This champion doesn't count! He will fail! He's too weak to handle the beastkin!"

The god of magic was silent. Beneath his cowl, the swirling mass of cosmic stars distorted in a sly half-smile.

"Take another then. His blessing was mine after all. You are within your rights to bless a champion should you feel threatened by outside events."

"We are going to Aur, this champion doesn't count! He will allow me another! And you will explain your meddling!"

"You are within your rights to do so."

"Of course I am!" Freyes screamed.

"It was a passing whim, I thought it would be nice gesture."

"Your gestures are unappreciated, Lorgen. Make this right when we talk with Aur!"

Turning on her heels, the goddess of life walked away. Her form shimmered as a portal of golden light absorbed her body. Within an instant the goddess of life had disappeared. Left alone within his oasis of knowledge, Lorgen let his mirth overtake him. Thousands of voices laughed in joy, as he imagined the upcoming chaos.