The End. . . As I approached the door to my lord's chamber, a sudden sense of forboding came over me. Outside, the tempest grew stronger as the driving rain beat upon the ground. It seemed almost as though Britannia herself were trying to cleanse away the blood and gore that now saturated the ground following the final victory of Minax. A victory, it seems, we were powerless to prevent. . . As I smote gently upon the door, I heard the words of my master from within: 'Come in, my friend.' As I entered, I found my liege Willie wearily packing the last of his belongings into many chests and sacks. Immediately, I knew the day had come. . . 'It is time.' he said. 'My liege. . . perhaps. . .' 'Nay,' he said, 'there is nothing more to discuss. Thou knowest as well as I that our time here is at an end. The Disciples of the Avatar have no further role to play in this world. With each passing day, it becomes more clear that our kind is not meant to be here.' At this, he strode past me, through the door and down the stairs. Following him, we came to the stoop before the great door to our Hall of Virtue. The storm had all but ceased and an eerie calm lay about the land. . . which only served to punctuate the devastation seen all about us. 'My liege,' I said. 'What of our quest. What of the return of the Avatar and our sacred task of preparing the people for his coming?' Turning away from the horse he was busily burdening with his belongings, Willie met my gaze for a short span. Then, suddenly, casting his eyes to the charred and pitted ground about us, he stated simply: 'The Avatar shall not return'. Those simple words hit me as a physical blow. All the sorrow and devastation I had thus far witnessed during these past few months had not affected me to such an extent as this. Astounded, I slumped to the ground, speechless. 'Tis true,' said Willie. He was aware of the the pain these words caused me, yet he pressed on, determined that I know the truth. 'The world has changed. This land has changed. And, . . its people have changed. Very few, if any, now know of the Virtues. None follow them. Indeed, how many times have you and I befriended one we believed to be Virtuous, only to find later that they lived a double-life of murder and mayhem. And those indeed who showed true Virtue were all too soon driven from the land solely because they have grown so very weary of dealing with the foul miscreants who infest Britannia as a plague. It is as if all this world is made up of children who wear the guise of adults. They have no concept of right or wrong. Nor do they care what consequences their actions bring. Alas, having meditated long on this, I now choose not to dwell in such a place. And, indeed, I have seen with clear sight that the Avatar will not return to a land such as this. This world is without Virtue. Indeed, it is wholly evil, its decent inhabitants having either fled or lie now dead upon--or under--the earth.' I looked around, seeing the hastily dug graves that littered the countryside. This one dug by a farmer's wife for her husband, butchered by the marauding army of Minax. Further down the hill, another one, carved from the earth by bare hands in furious haste. . . a mother, burrying her newborn child which had perished in the bitter wilderness as she fled the assault of the Dark Mistress. 'All that was decent in this world is gone, Hurin. Come with me. For I have divined a method of travelling to the homeworld of the Avatar himself! It is the world in which we both truly belong. There thou shalt witness marvels the likes of which thy mind dare not attempt to conceive! Aye, verily, through the very magics that Nystul and Lord British now use to evacuate this land, we may also leave, yet elsewhere will we go!' 'But what of the evacuation milord?' I asked. 'Will we not accompany our Lord British to the promised realm of peace and justice?' 'Nay, I choose not that path. I will not go where the behavior of the masses are artificially controlled by the will of Lord British, or even the gods. For, as thou must surely understand, Hurin, only through free will can anyone truly come to know Virtue. Virtue cannot be forced upon a people.' 'Our sacred task was to bring Virtue to the land. Yet now, those who journey to the promised land lack the freedom to explore their own souls and come to the Way of the Avatar of their own volition. And, of course, those who remain in this land have already demonstrated their total lack of Compassion, Honor, and Justice. You see, Hurin, our sacred task is utterly without hope. The people of this land are lost. They shall never know Virtue. Nor will the Avatar return to them in this state. It is time to go. . .' Turning from me, Willie strode a few steps from the Hall. Then, kneeling, he placed a solid stone upon the scorched and trodden soil. The stone appeared to be made of obsidian. Yet it emanatated a power that was apparent, yet unseen. Suddenly, a blinding flash. Then, as my eyes cleared, I saw before me a portal not unlike the moongates I had so often used in my journeys. Yet, this one was red. . . 'Come, Hurin. Gather thy belongings quickly and follow me through the portal. We shall make a new beginning in a strange, yet wonderful land.' Yet I found myself unable to move. Unable to step forward, towards my liege, nor back, towards the only land I had ever known. The land of my birth. The land I had hoped to cleanse and prepare for the return of our saviour. Surely that hope, that vision of a redeemed Britannia could not die now! There must still be a way! The Avatar would still come to reclaim Britannia for Virtue! He would lead a glorious army against the Dark Mistress and raise Britannia up from its current plight! As these thoughts raced through my mind, I stood frozen between the Hall of Virtue--symbol of my Quest and all that I held dear in this land--and the portal unto another world where all the despair, the failed dreams, and the forsaken Quest might be forgotten. Then, finally, I looked upon Willie, my liege. And sadness was upon his brow. Surely my torment smote him to the heart as well. And then, I saw in his eye. . . the Truth. For, indeed, it became apparent to me in that instant that he was right. The Avatar would not return and Britannia was doomed to a never-ending era of darkness. Yet still I could not step forward. I could not yet leave this land. And, I could not even summon the will to speak. . . to tell Willie of the raging storm of thoughts now raging through my soul. Yet, Willie did not need to be told. While at first his gaze was pleading and then forlorn as he came to understand. . . at last, he smiled. And stepping forward he put his hand upon my shoulder and spoke: 'The time is not yet right for thy flight from this land. Yet, I must go. It may be that we may not meet again under sun or moon. Yet it may also be that this is not so. Yet whether in joy or in grief we may meet again, I know not. Farewell Hurin, First Knight of the Order, Disciple of the Avatar. . .' I could not meet his gaze. For I at once felt ashamed both in myself for not following him. . . and for my liege for abandoning this land. I knew not which path was right. Yet Willie spoke no more and pondered his path no longer. Resolutely he turned, gathered the reigns of his horses, and--without looking back--strode through the portal. As the beasts of burden passed into the aperture, following their master, the portal sank into the ground. The countryside--formerly bathed in the ruby light of the mystical gate--now stood in shadow as the thunderclouds wheeled overhead. There was no trace of the dark stone which had conjured the means of my liege's departure. I now stood alone in this forsaken land. Alone, with no means of escape. I sit now in the smithy of my father, Celebrimbor. The forge is cold and the keen sound of metal being fashioned upon his anvil has not been heard in this humble dwelling for several months. None can tell me of my father's whereabouts. . . nor can they say precisely where his body lay. For it is assumed by many that my father perished in the fighting nigh the castle of our lord, ere the cataclysm finally overwhelmed all. I sit now alone in his shop. . . consumed by despair. Dark thoughts hover around my being as a chill mist. The Avatar hath forsaken us. The light of Virtue will not again shine in Sosaria. Farewell Virtue. Farewell Britannia. Farwell, life that I have known so long. . .   Hurin First Knight Disciples of the Avatar (Now Disbanded)