s you enter and look about this room, you easily are startled by the sheer oddity and irregularity of it. Every surface seems to be covered with every conceivable glyph, symbol, letter or means of writing known to all the races of Faerun. Small, large, and in all varieties of colour and form, the symbols and shapes upon the walls, ceiling and floor are strew about in a cacophony of delusion. Directly opposite your entry, a single niche sits peacefully within the wall - a lone candle burning unendingly and shedding a magical light about the room.

ith a cautious glance about you, you watch the candle slowly burn and flicker. Slowly, the wax drips and the wick sparks, yet oddly, it somehow seems not to be consumed. The warmth and soft glow of light is almost soothing. The more you watch it burn you slowly become entranced by it; You almost feel compelled to reach forth and touch the unusual item or odd magic at work. The true question is whether you are indeed brave enough to reach forth and touch it? What form will Deneir's blessings take as they are bestowed upon you, if they are at all? The choice and your fate rests in your hands.