OOC: Yeah, I know. Whatever.

I thought in my heart, "Come now, I will test you with pleasure to find out what is good." But that also proved to be meaningless. "Laughter," I said, "is foolish. And what does pleasure accomplish?" I tried cheering myself with wine, and embracing folly -my mind still guiding me with wisdom. I wanted to see what was worthwhile for men to do under heaven during the few days of their lives.

I undertook great projects: I built houses for myself and planted vineyards. I made gardens and parks and planted all kinds of fruit trees in them. I made reservoirs to water groves of flourishing trees. I bought male and female slaves and had other slaves who were born in my house. I also owned more herds and flocks than anyone in Jerusalem before me. I amassed silver and gold for myself, and the treasure of kings and provinces. I acquired men and women singers, and a harem as well -the delights of the heart of man. I became greater by far than anyone in Jerusalem before me. In all this my wisdom stayed with me.

I denied myself nothing my eyes desired;

I refused my heart no pleasure.

My heart took delight in all my work,

and this was the reward for all my labor.

Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done

and what I had toiled to achieve,

everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind;

nothing was gained under the sun.

"Pleasures Are Meaningless" -Ecclesiastes 2:1-11

At the nearest sign of daybreak, just before the sun had a chance to peak through the night, Palpatine continued his trek towards Brightsand. The group was reduced to a bare minimum of people, but they had served him little and were unimportant for the most part.

The only one that really mattered to him was Bevel -despite his lack of a spine and a sometimes idiotic knack for indescision, the man knew his skills with technology well. There were times when a Rebel raid would have cost far more without a modified ion cannon in place, or a new laser turret with improved accuracy. But the greatest accomplishment Bevel had made so far, in the Emperor's eyes, was the RJ-11 Decimator. Using an advanced alien technology, it could condense an atom's mass to the point at which it would be crushed, sending a reaction to every surrounding atom, and continued from the tiniest scale to a massive release of energy that would destroy nearly anything in its path.

The prototype was still in development, and thus it was never used in actual warfare, but it would have surely allowed the Empire to crush the Rebellion swiftly and efficiently if it had been manufactured in mass quantity as planned.

"Emminence?" Venyre, the dark elf, reviled the very word as he spoke to Palpatine.

"What?" snapped the Emperor.

"Is everything alright?"

"What concern are the dwellings of my mind to you, elf?" He paid closer attention to Palpatine's actions as they traveled. "Nothing, never mind." Venyre looked back at the surrounding plains. It would be hard to get on the man's good side, Venyre mused, and it would be even more unlikely that he would be promoted in rank or avoid being disposed of as easily as the others had been. For a brief moment he thought of what it would be like throwing Bevel down a cliff. But no, the simple man decided to bring up his own conversation.

"Sir, what else do you know about this 'Diving Staff' of yours? If that staff is supposed to tell us where to the other ones are, then why did we come looking here?"

Palpatine continued walking at a brisk pace. It was strange for both him and Bevel to still think of him as the same Emperor. The body he inhabited now was both old and grey, yet it was more bulky in its own right. Most who first saw him on this planet mistook him for a weak and elderly man, but by the time he obtained Khadgar's form, he was seen as an aged and hardened warrior. "The staff, I assume, will foresee whatever actions I must take to fulfill my own destiny. In the hands of a simpleton, I'd imagine it would find a rat for his dinner."

"In other words, it isn't just a compass to the next staff, but to whatever steps you need to take to get there."

"I assume. Everything up until now should play some part in what I'm trying to achieve." He felt the staff nudging into him slightly within his robe. "It is a pity that it has taken this long to possess only one."

"Well, boss, it hasn't been that long since we got here. We might have another couple years to be stuck here."

"It's been a year past, hasn't it?"

"No, sir. Not that long." Bevel stared at the Emperor.

"No, no it's been at least a year I'm sure," Palpatine replied.

"Right.." Strange, he thought, Palpatine's memory seemed to be lagging. It might have just been a temporary result of being stranded here. The atmosphere, maybe. Or the plant life.

Umber Jornoff was one of the few dwarves to ever live outside the Iron Mountain, for the sole reason that he could actually stand the ways and habits of nearby humans. It took more than a gut of steel to deal with them -it took the ability to calm one's own temper when one of the things decided to act a bit stupid. Most dwarves didn't have that skill.

He was also a smith, but who wasn't? The dwarves traded with Stonetree quite often, and between their trading of raw materials and working at the forge, it wasn't uncommon to actually be around the humans. But it was completely another thing to be living amongst them.

So it was today that he was assigned to transport six hundred bars of iron to the human town, along with some hides and couple of trinkets he could add to any sucker bargain he got in to. The wagon was still going a bit slow despite the strength potions given to the four horses, and he watched the view around him with reluctance.

"Wha? Groff, bloody pedestrians. Woi if Ai 'ad a furgen copper for every lookeseeloo out in tha wildaness, en... Wha? 'Eh! In 'ell you doin'? E'ave no time ta be 'assled by -Gad! You 'ave some nerve tryin' ta...

Argghhh! Ye bloody -ack! 'll rottin 'ell fer that!! ARRCK! ARRRRGLBGRLlflbmlgk.............."

"Didn't put up much of a fight..."

"No, although you could heal him and see for yourself." Palpatine exhaled and shut his eyes briefly.

"I can't bring back the dead, I can only heal wounds. Remember that if we get in a fight for more than we can take."

Palpatine didn't seem to be paying attention to the elf. He was concentrating on his breathing, and letting his muscles relax as the Force energy had taken its toll on him. It had been a while since he'd used it to the extent of killing anyone, and without complete focus of thought The Force could act erratically. But it was rare that he felt this much of a strain, even if it was harder to feel the energies on this planet.

"Emperor," said Bevel, "should we unload everything from the wagon?"

"No..." he breathed in the air. "No I think it may be useful to us. Whatever convinced this man to haul it this in direction must have also assured him some kind of profit. And as primitive as the materials seem to be..." Palpatine clenched his shoulder as a searing pain rushed through his side."

"What is it?" Bevel walked towards him, with a concerned look on his face. Venyre smirked at the man's loyalty to the old fool.

"I..." Palpatine's face muscles clenched as he willed the pain to subside. He walked to the front of the wagon and climbed up, leaning against the wooden rail. He wouldn't admit it, but it was necessary for him to rest now, and he called to the others to enter and guide the wagon in the direction they were heading. Venyre sensed they were going northeast, but where the nearest town was located was unknown. The Emperor's Diving Staff glowed only slightly at the tip.

Deep in Anacortes' lair, down the steep stairs and into the very heart of the mountains, the chamber of sleeping bodies murmured only slightly as usual, for the fluids feeding nutrients to the egg-like capsules were constantly at work, and muscles contracted beneath the wombs of life giving syrup.

But one of them did not move like the others. It stirred, and jittered, and with a brief sound of flesh ripping, a single hand emerged from its shell.

The pitter patter of the chocobo's feet racing through the soft dirt only helped its adrenaline heighten, with an urge to sprint forward as fast as it could. Toma wasn't sure if he preferred this to a horse, or something that didn't seem like it was running on one leg all the time, but he really had no choice as he clutched the reigns and was given a constant barrage of jolts from the bird.

"Woahwoahwoahwoah!" he yelled, trying to slow it down, but it was concentrating solely on maintaining its speed, and Toma had to yank back the reigns in order for it to stop. It swerved instead, losing its balance with one foot and regaining it on the other, thirty times over, before falling on its side to get the human off its back.

"Cheeeep!" it squeeled as it looked back at its rider.

"Hey, look, I'm doing this for your own good." Toma stood up and wiped the dirt off his pants, then walked closer to the bird. "You need to regain your energy a little or you'll get too tired to run, and then you won't be worth anything to me but an oversized chicken dinner."

The bird seemed to tell what Toma was implying by his tone, and squinted its eyes in defiance. Toma didn't mind and sat back on the ground, watching the trees blow in a passing breeze.

"You know, there's a lot less to worry about without that stupid knife..."

"Interesting..." with an almost abrupt transition from the grassy fields, the sands of a desert approached as the wagon moved forward. There was some trouble getting the wagon to move in the sand, but not much as it was mostly flat land here.

A ways in the distance, signs of civilization were present. Venyre spotted some people carrying food and water in glass jugs, and kids played in the sands nearby. After covering some more land, the group found themselves nowhere near an uninhabited piece of the desert, but instead travelling down a bustling city inhabited with buildings made entirely from glass.

To Palpatine it echoed of the backwater planet Tatooine, without the moderate levels of technology. Tatooine was a stain on his former imperial rule -a planet that would have been forgotten if not for its tendency to bring all manner of fate into its wretched bowels.

But here, in this city, the people seemed to choose living in this manner, rather than the surrounding lands that could just as easily be inhabited. And they made the most of it, as could be seen from their buildings. Some of the houses were in similar structure to the peasant dwellings of Tatooine, while others used more complex layouts, along with varying glass quality and dyes. It was easy to distinguish the upper and lower class, along with the many shops that littered the area. Something else he noticed was that privacy wasn't an issue here, as many families could be seen inside their homes, and the ones that used darkened glass for protection from the sun usually had doorways and windows widely open for all to look in.

"I assume this is the place that woman directed us to, though her directions weren't that clear." Palpatine looked at the many people running around to attend their duties or shop.

"What did she tell you?" asked Bevel, prompting Venyre to mutter something about loyal slaves under his breath.

"Garrick was the name she gave. Though asking anyone here would be quite foolish."

Though the wagon they rode in did not draw undue attention, it would be near impossible to maneuver amidst the thickening crowds, and the spaces between buildings (they were streets as far as anyone else cared) were meant for walking between rather than lugging a heavy load that could just as easily cause the wagon to get stuck. It was left on a flat patch of sand that was out of the way of oncoming crowds, and as there were no posts to tie the horses to, someone was given the duty to stand watch. It was Venyre who was chosen, much to his anger, but he gave his word to make sure the animals didn't stray or shit too much on people's shoes.

"If I only had a clue to where the hell I'm going..." Toma lightly kicked his mount with the back of his ankle, telling it to quicken its pace now that it was done resting. The bird still resumed its wild sprint, and seemed to favor that to running at any other pace. Toma had to clench its feathers along with the reigns, not sure if the bird enjoyed this or was trying to end its life faster.

He wasn't sure where he was going, as he didn't care, and he didn't bother to purchase a compass anyway, so he decided to follow the coast on the left. If there was another town along here, it would probably be a small fishing village -out of the way, peaceful, and quiet. Eventually he noticed the sand he began to speed over was not part of the beach.

An interesting aspect of this desert city was the resourcefulness of its people. Fruit wagons crossed the area with goods, water was sold in flasks on vendor tables, and through it all, no one seemed to mind that this land could just as easily be fit for carrion birds and devoid of all but the most minimal signs of life.

Maltruse knew that it was pointless dwelling on the fates of these humans and their habits, but she couldn't help. They were so different from what she was accustomed to. So docile... It was amazing that they could overcome their burdens so well.

Her thin, almost bony frame was completely concealed by a brown and yellow shroud worn over her, with two small slits in its headpiece, only revealing tiny blue eyes with no other hint to the rest of her features. She sat in the sand next to an emerald colored dome, which was opaque enough for the inhabitants to be unaware of her existence. Since this morning she had sat here, contemplating all that she observed on this planet, only to satisfy her urge to think of the possible outcomes that civilization here would face. In a hundred years, in fifty, even in a day...

Her musings were interrupted by a young woman who she both envied and was annoyed by. She looked more like a teen than an adult, but it was hard to tell and she never even told anyone in the first place. But her position in General Garrick's army was one that demanded at least some form of respect, not out of rank but of the ability to survive a swift hairpin jammed in the neck.

"Clairvoyant..." the young woman addressed the shrouded woman with ease in her voice. "I want you to stop wasting your time here and help make preparations. Garrick asks it."

"He's doing fine, young thief. There is no danger to be worried of at the moment."

"Hmph.." The thief crossed both arms around her chest and looked to the side. "I hope you're right. Another raid on our camp and we'd be down for far more than we're owed."

"I don't see that happening..." The Clairvoyant spoke in her usual, calm tone.

"And how are you so sure?"

"I talked to the accountant. He says our funds have been spent already, so there is nothing to lose from another raid. But someone is stealing your lunch at the moment, and I'd be more concerned about that right now."

"What?!" The young thief sprinted off in the direction of the camp, not bothering to think if the clairvoyant was right or she was just being swatted away.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THAT??" the thief screamed into Garrick's face.

"What? One of the soldiers said you wouldn't be getting back soon, and I know how much you hate cold soup-"

"NO YOU NITWIT! The money! You spent it all didn't you??" With the blood rising in her head and the constant huffing she produced, it was either comical or something to be deeply frightened of. Garrick chose neither attitude, and instead stood from his table and held her arm firmly.

"Look, sweets, I know how to run things here. Upgrading from bark armor to real bronze seems to give my men.. Oh I don't know... less chances to die for stupid reasons like what usually happens in raiding."

"You still have to pay them."

"I know. And that's why tonight the army's going to attack. Whoever lives, gets the armor. It all works out."

"You..." Simply aghast, she was about to storm off when he placed his thick hand over her tiny rear, causing a slight shriek. His eyes stared into hers.

"There'll be more than enough earnings to pay them off. So you see why this is important to me..." his words didn't seem to come too clearly as he held her, and for a moment she paused, deciding whether to let him continue this time.

Withdrawing, she walked out the tent. "Touch my ass again and you won't be able to walk straight for another few days, Gary."

"Looking forward to it." He eyed her leather sandals as she walked off.

Only a bare few were still with Palpatine, nameless as far as he cared, and far beyond expendable. He was growing more and more impatient, and knew that if he didn't find what he was looking for, he'd have to personally kill Anacortes.

That wouldn't happen. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a figure shrouded in brown and yellow, with tiny eye holes in the head. He realized that if he were at the height of his Sith power, he could easily pick out anyone he chose from any crowd, rather than relying on his physical senses.

She seemed elderly, but not by human standards. Something about her shape underneath suggested a different race altogether. With only a slight nudge of The Force, he could pick out her motivations , and knew that she was observing him just as well.

As he approached, she began to get up and considered walking away from him. "I have no reason to converse with you."

The Emperor stared at her, walking closer. She became hesitant, but knew that he would probably pursue her if she fled.

"You are the Clairvoyant?" His footsteps dragged along the sand as his men stayed behind.

"My title is so. But you don't need to address me, stranger. I have no business dealing with you."

Palpatine stopped at a handshake's distance from the shrouded woman. "So you think. I was sent here by another to find more about the future."

"Ahh..." the woman chuckled slightly. "I know many people who would recommend my services. You are not the first client that has come to me with no more than a referral."

"So why are you hesitant to tell me?"

She paused. "I cannot see into the future. I can evaluate what is happening now, and in the past. Even if I could show you what happens next, it may not be nearly as accurate."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean this world is no more than a collection of varying circumstances. Even if you did find someone to tell you the future, it may be altered a minute later."

"I don't care what you think. I only need to know where my next step should be. If you can offer nothing, then I will leave."

The Clairvoyant turned away, but stood in the same spot. "You are oblivious to many things. And for that I feel you should know more about yourself. But again, what you choose to do with that knowledge may show it self in any number of ways, which I can never be sure of."

"I understand. Go on."

She sighed. "You are an evil man, which I am sure you are aware of. Evil by choice, because it provides you with security."

"What are you talking about?"

"You feel weak without power. You can never live a simple life, and you demand that you be in control of everything around you. Lacking that only makes you desire to control more."

"You speak nonsense that I have no interest in. I am not here to be counseled."

"It matters, sir, believe me. Your control over yourself and your actions is the only way for you to continue living as you do."

"Hm?"

"I can sense your physical strength waning. Day by day it diminishes, no matter how hard you try to go on." She looked off at a group of children hauling food on their backs. "I also know your mental prowess is slowly moving from your own grasp. Soon you will become senile, unable to think with clarity, and unable to live."

He stared at her with uncertainty. "So you say..."

"I know it. And I know that the power you rely on has grown the weakest of all. It is tearing inside you. Your inability to control yourself is what troubles you most, even if you choose to deny it."

Palpatine gave no response.

"You are also not of your own physical self, I can see. As if you've become a spirit, travelling from different shells when the need arises."

"Yes..."

"This is what causes your deterioration. When one shell withers, you choose another, and so on. But each time you do, it ages more rapidly, unable to sustain itself naturally as you would like."

"There is no shortage of bodies on this planet."

"No, but there is a limit to the number of times you can steal another. After a time each body will wither instantly, and in trying to escape from death you will fail."

"How can you be sure of this?" his eyelids narrowed.

"Because your aura tells me. You cannot risk taking another body. And I know you fear this as well. You are not immortal, and you cannot control all evil."

"I see..." He grew tired of her naysaying, and had hoped she would provide more useful information. He was about to say good riddance when she continued talking.

"I need to hold your hand."

"What?"

"I need to see the past life of this shell with my own eyes."

"Why are you so eager to aid me?" He extended his right hand slowly.

"I do it because I know your will is strong." She clasped his hand. "If you do decide to continue with your life, you will make the most of it before you die. And the key to this, I sense, lies in the body you inhabit."

"What do you mean, exactly?"

"This is not a normal shell. It is the body of one who was great in the mystical arts. I can feel its power deep within you, but I won't be able to untap it without the proper knowledge. Now be quiet, and I will read into you..."

The vision became clearer. Memories were still hidden within this shell, and could be unlocked with the right persistence. It took time, but slowly the past became visible.

This was Khadgar, loyal mage of the realm Azeroth. It had been his duty to protect the lands from the onslaught of the world of the Draenei. The Orcs came from this world, a relentless onslaught of feral beings bent on conquest.

Khadgar was one of a few heroes who defended the lands from the Orcs, alongside the armies of Lord Lothar. Invaluable in battle, it was he who destroyed the portal from which the Orcs came.

The war was originally started by a sorceror named Medivh, born to be the successor to the Guardian Aegwyn. But the power he inherited was corrupted by the Twisting Nether, and with his mind bent on revealing the full power of the dark arts, he revealed to the warlock chief Gul'dan on how to invade Azeroth. It was here that the Orcs would lead their massive assault, and it was here that Aegwyn had fought the great Daemonlord Sargeras eight hundred years before, in a massive battle that ended with Sargeras being banished in a tomb deep beneath the sea.

Medivh instructed the war chief Gul'dan to find the tomb after it had been lost to the ages, and unleash the power within. After many battles his clan arrived at the site of burial. Raising a chain of volcanic islands from the sea, Gul'dan found and unsealed the tomb, but in the process alerted another warring clan which was against the warlock's desires.

Even with a small band of Daemons protecting his army, Gul'dan the Warlock failed to defend the tomb and was killed in battle, along with the rest of his clan. The attacking clan held no interest in the tomb and continued to assault the human lands, but were defeated in the end.

Some time later, Aegwyn knew that Sargeras would bring nothing but chaos and desolation now that the tomb had been unsealed, and quickly trapped the Daemonlord in the island once more. Even with a small band of daemon minions still left inside from the previous battle centuries ago, Aegwyn knew that he could attack Sargeras while he was still vulnerable. But even if he did succeed, the battle would likely cause more destruction upon the lands of Azeroth, and as the humans began reclaiming theirs land it was the last thing Aegwyn desired to happen.

Though the corrupted Medivh had been slain in another battle, his last prophecies were of the Daemonlord's return to power. Aegwyn knew that others would aspire to unseal the tomb. The power granted from this Daemon, one of the highest ranking in the Dark Beyond, was incalculable, to the level of some kind of god. Instead of using all his energy in fighting a battle he had no assurance of winning, Aegwyn wrapped the island in the folds of an interdimensional portal, casting it away from Azeroth forever.

As he watched it descend into the realm between worlds, a barely noticeable tug led the island away from the random shifting that was common in the interdimensional realm. Though the island could have fallen anywhere, it was dragged specifically to one place -a nexus universe. It was impossible to say if this universe had a natural tendency to open rifts into other worlds, or if the island was dragged consciously there -but knowing full well that the opportunity would be gone, Aegwyn summoned the mage Khadgar and sent him through the rift just before it closed, giving him a brief warning about Sargeras and the world he would enter, and to make sure the seal would never be broken.

The Clairvoyant voluntarily broke her concentration. It was odd that she gained this much knowledge from one man's preserved memories. By all accounts she shouldn't be able to know the dealings of someone so powerful as Aegwyn. But it seemed the short contact that Khadgar experienced before being sent to this planet had allowed her to analyze Aegwyn's thoughts.

She opened an eyelid only slightly, and saw that Palpatine was still staring at her. By any means possible, this man should be killed. She grasped his hand tighter and continued reading into the memories.......