![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
The Fist of the Five Winds |
|||||||||||
As you step through the wooden door into the short, squat tower in Lake Rathe, you are greeted by a gust of temperate air. The room before you, a simple entryway, is spare, containing only a low wooden bench and a desk, both made of a dark, satiny wood. The stone floor is bare. Behind the desk sits an old man. His hair -- what little there is of it -- is pure white, but his eyes are lively and bright, and he moves with the grace of a panther and the swiftness of the winds. He steps from behind the desk and moves forward to greet you. |
|||||||||||
A Tour of the Monastery |
|||||||||||
![]() |
|||||||||||
![]() |
|||||||||||
This site created and maintained by Simonne Grant. |