Atop a loamy hillock under a bruise-colored sky, a young Elf sits with his fingers laced upon his knees and his back against a cool, shadowy monolith. After pushing his platinum-rimmed spectacles higher on his face, Skyelance ponders a moment, records a thought in his leather journal, and sets to dreaming once again. You also see an embossed rune of Xibar roughly chiseled into the monolith. The ...