Alas, my fellow mages, I fear that with age I have become stagnant. My magic, as well as my heart is beginning to deteriorate. Thus, it is now time that we begin our search for the next magistrate. They who are chosen must be wise beyond their years, and more importantly unaware of their greatness. The power shall not be given to those who search for it. There is no doubt it is going to be difficult and time consuming to say the least. However we must use our instincts to retrieve the perfect replacement to fill my shoes.
We must observe the city being watchful of every young boy or girl, rich or poor. Once we find suitable candidates we must find a way of setting them tasks without them realising what is happening. They should be challenged regarding their bravery, loyalty and determination. Now, I must retire for the night, and recommend that you do so too. There is much to do and say tomorrow.
I know not what the future holds, when I look out the window into the night, it appears that, along with myself, Cliath has grown stagnant. The city which was so full of life has been put on pause, while movement continues, the productivity has declined. The magic has been sucked out of it by the evil. The sounds are now blurred into a dreary humming of bleakness. The crisp air I once knew has become stale and humid.
The evil is not what frightens me, but the defeat of the good. My aim is to heal our beloved city, to relight the spark and revive the magic.
In order to do so an apprentice is essential. Perhaps… in case for some reason I am not around to continue the quest, I must write down all the elements necessary and the tasks and leave it with someone trustworthy, somewhere safe and desolate.
I urge you to sleep on all of this, and to be prepared and refreshed for the quest ahead. This is your world I speak of, remember that.