| The Elf commander had heard of Niyol's pilgrimage, and asked if he had learned how the gods could overcome their conflicts.
"Each god values the life of each and every mortal. ln
this, there is unity," Niyol said with the sure, clear
voice of enlightenment.
Niyol spent many years spreading his revelation,
performing miracles, finding in every culture a link to
the divine. When the gods formed the Vigil, Niyol's
sentinels spread hope through unity to all the people
of Telara.
The Elf vanguard burst into the grand hall just as the
hangman fitted a noose to Niyol's neck. A moment
later, the dwarf fell with an arrow in his throat,
knocking Niyol off his bench. The rope drew tight.
Battle choked the Dwarven hall, yet no combatant who
fought near Niyol succumbed to their wounds. Even
as he swung from the noose, the initiate mouthed a
healing prayer, offering his last breath to save kinfolk
and persecutors alike.
White light poured from the eyes of every statue to a
god in Harnrnerknell, the words of his prayer booming
from stone lips. Anyone who saw the light was
healed; everyone who heard the words succumbed to
a quiet serenity.
As the Elves lay down their arms, the Dwarves cut
Niyol down and declared him a saint. Both sides
pledged alliance ever after, and the mendicant went on
his way.
The Elf commander had heard of Niyol's pilgrimage,
and asked if he had learned how the gods could
overcome their conflicts.
| 
