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"Shortly after the first rulers of Protectors of Radiance were ascended, a Circe of Nine, Tybarian revealed that he would do something unusual to forge the Soul of Radiance so we could again
banish freely as in the days of the Protectors of Old." Were you one of the first rulers, Mach?
"I was indeed. "One dark night I arrived in the dream to find Sabra in the Protectors of Radience. The truth of her and Tybarian's relationship having been hidden till then to prevent rumors of conflicts of interests arising. That night though, it was revealed that they were indeed a couple, and that she was to help her husband in an enormous task. "To reforge the Soul of Radiance, Tybarian gave his very heart to give the necessary power to accomplish this. "... So in a rather quiet and sad manner it was done, with many a tear shed by all at this sacrifice. The Soul of Radiance then stood reforged anew, ready to banish again. Tybarian also left his famous spear behind as well at this time. This was a personal item which I had for a period but which was then destroyed by Rasputin unfortunately when he used it and tried recharging it. "Some weeks later though... Tybarian's Soul arrived, having mustered enough strength to form another avatar, one which is confined to the house though." Machiavelli sighs thoughtfully as he remembers. "A most noble fellow, he has my complete trust. And because of him I found my true path in the dream I believe." Calysto wipes some brown liquid off of her notepad. Machiavelli curiously wonders what manner of notepad this is. Calysto looks at a battered stack of papers in a leather binding, splattered by the brownish river at her feet. The following story is a history of the Protectors of Radience as remembered by Machiavelli and included with his permission:  *(This is Part One of the interview)
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ur interviewer, having chased Machiavelli through emphant-infested Threshold pits,
pauses to restore her lost DreamSoul, suddenly realizing Machiavelli is through only one more portal. Our interviewer catches Machiavelli and the two journey to
Gloom Peaks while Machiavelli shares his story with her. With rusty brown water at her knees, she joins party and listens while watching to see what goodies
wash up with the tide. Brushing brownish splatters from this notepad, she enjoys a casual discussion, frantically scribbling down Machiavelli's tale while
keeping an eye on the river.
