Unable to reconcile the contradictions between the gods, the Elf initiate Niyol Cliffswind made a pilgrimage to Hammerknell. In the capital of the Elves’ ancient enemies, the dwarves, he tried to learn how Bahralt’s bustling cities could coexist with Tavril’s pristine wilderness.

His days there were a misery: jostled and berated, unable to gain audience with a priest of Bahralt. Then one night, a lynch mob pulled Niyol from his bed. “Filthy spy!” they cried, for an Elvish surprise attack had breached the city walls. Dragged toward the gibbet, Niyol heard the clamor as fighting raged through Hammerknell.

The Elf vanguard burst into the grand hall just as the hangman fitted a noose to Niyol’s neck. A moment later, the dwarf fell with an arrow in his throat, knocking Niyol off his bench. The rope drew tight.

Battle choked the dwarven hall, yet no combatant who fought near Niyol succumbed to their wounds. Even as he swung from the noose, the initiate mouthed a healing prayer, offering his last breath to save kinfolk and persecutors alike.

White light poured from the eyes of every statue to a god in Hammerknell, the words of his prayer booming from stone lips. Anyone who saw the light was healed; everyone who heard the words succumbed to a quiet serenity.

As the Elves lay down their arms, the dwarves cut Niyol down and declared him a saint. Both sides pledged alliance ever after, and the mendicant went on his way.

The Elf commander had heard of Niyol’s pilgrimage, and asked if he had learned how the gods could overcome their conflicts.

“Each god values the life of each and every mortal. In this, there is unity,” Niyol said with the sure, clear voice of enlightenment.

Niyol spent many years spreading his revelation, performing miracles, finding in every culture a link to the divine. When the gods formed the Vigil, Niyol’s sentinels spread hope through unity to all the people of Telara.