((Must…remember…ah gawd…my mind!))
Mightily disturbed by the implications of Dolurrh invading Eberron proper, and also possibly worried about fall out from the whole thing with Teron d’Cannith, Lemesh went on a pilgrimage to find out whatever he could about the planer incursions. His wanderings took him all over Khorvaire; though much of his time was spent in Breland and Thrane. Travel was slow due to the fact that he spent most of his time wandering around on foot. Even though he had a nice stack of gold lying around, old habit’s die hard and wandering incognito is always better than flamboyantly.
He moved from city to city, temple to temple, starting with some of the more obscure places. Information gathered on the planes in one place was cross reference with the information found in another. Stacks and stacks of research notes began to accumulate, and still progress moved on at a glacial pace. From time to time he would exchange correspondence with Illeith’atharia.
Eventually his wanderings took him to Flamekeep, the capital of Thrane. In the main temple for this city rested the actual Silver Flame; pilgrims were everywhere, all eager to worship at this most holy of temples. Per his normal routine, Lemesh begged access to the temple’s archives in exchange for a small donation to the church.
They led him deep into the temple, into a little cell to work in. There he laid out his research and began copying. There was so much material there that he was forced to come back several days; not a terribly unusual situation. When the temple closed for the evening, he continued his work back at his inn room. After many long hours of writing and study, he fell asleep on his notes.
In his dream he was a floating light, drifting on the far edge a ball. The ball was composed of many tiny lights, but the core of the ball was seething darkness. As he looked upon it, one part of his soul seemed to think, “Ahh, home.” A short ways away, he could see Eberron; a planet suspended in space. Other orbs floated around his dark-within-light ball and Eberron; some of them shined with brilliance. Tendrils from these great shining orbs floated down to Lemesh and his dark-within-light ball, as well as Eberron. The tendrils felt good; as if they were a safety net that comforts as well as secures.
Two of the orbs collided with each other; one was made of gray death, the other of verdant green life. Their slow merging created a single imperfect orb; this lopsided thing spun around Eberron out of control. The bright orbs above began to slowly move away from Lemesh’s ball and Eberron. Some of the tendrils began to disengage themselves. Some of the bright orbs above sent out more tendrils to reconnect with Eberron. These were smashed aside by the spinning glob of life and death.
As Lemesh looked on, he could feel the tendrils attaching him with one of the bright distant orbs. He reached out, grabbed one, and pulled it closer. The little tendril became a thick rope of light as power surged into him. He awoke on his notes, with the feeling of power still sizzling through his body.