Hard, pained breaths echoed everpresent in the empty spanse of the dark temple- almost as empty as the halls that brought the elven woman here today. Even when at rest, Ursah's ribcage shuddered soundlessly with the effort of each breath, and each breath brought her new and insistant pain. Kneeling submissively before the mosiac representing Drakkara, Ursah bowed down her frail body, pushing her stiff bones past their limit and nearly crying out at the effort. Touching her forehead to the floor though her body shook in protest to the position, she payed her respects to her lady, and remained in this position as she prayed- as if her physical exertion would all the more make her prayers heard.

"Glorious Mother, Harsh Mistress, Beautiful One of unsurpassed strength; I call to you from the depths of my despair, from the hour of our destruction. Always have you looked over our House, woven your threads of magic and blessed us with your presance. I seek your assistance in obtaining answers, Great Goddess, lend me your wisdom and strength. The once-great halls of Ka'vanth now ring empty. Our unity has ceased, we have spread like barren seeds to the world, who reap nothing. The new generations are becoming uneducated to our ways, to our history, fed upon lies and rumors that prevent them from knowing completely- or having pride- in who they are. Where has our nobility gone? Our pride? Our strength in our heritage? Why are our halls locked at the entrance? Why do I see no new Ka'vanth... Or old? Gracious Lady, our Matron is in a state of emotional stasis, and I do not see nor hear from her often. She has claimed to me that part of her is disheartened with Ka'vanth, and that another part of her no longer wishes to lead the shambles of something that once was. I beseech of thee to inspire her, else I fear that one of the last great dark-elven houses will perish, and soon. I do not wish my son to die the last Ka'vanth. I beg of you your guidance in knowing what might be done to prevent this from taking place."