Reflections on the Past, Part 3:
	The life of an assassin is a solitary one.  Though Kashfa has a 
guild to keep things orderly, there is no sense of community among the 
members.  After all, how can you trust those that kill for money...or 
even for pleasure?  Though I had not worked for the guild in over a 
century, old habits die hard.
	Yet there I was, as person after person gathered around my 
banner.  There was little invitation - it was as if some greater power 
had decided that I would need assistance in the days ahead.  But, I 
knew better.  This was not simply chance, or fate, or divine whim.  
Someone had sent these others to me...whether for good or ill I knew 
not.  Perhaps several different groups were involved...though the 
refrain of 'the great sorceror, Vance' had been voiced several times
over.  In short, I was travelling with unknown factors, any of which 
could be waiting to put a knife in my back.
	The morning of our departure from Kashfa, another was brought to 
join this growing band.  His name was Reed, someone that Sean claimed 
to have met in his search for me.  Given my suspicions regarding Sean, 
I was instantly wary of Reed, as well.
	There was one member of the group I was beginning to trust.  
Madrak had learned about my past with the guild, and had not judged me 
for it.  He also had a maturity and forthright manner that made him 
stand out from the others.  In the days ahead, I would come to look 
upon him as both ally and equal, someone whom I could confide in 
without fear.
	We had little trouble acquiring a ship, though a sailor we 
spoke to warned us that few would risk the trip to Begma.  Apparently 
others had been turned away due to the ripples of Begma's destruction.  
We boarded the ship, a smaller vessel called the Windsong, and headed 
for Begma.
	I will not speak overmuch of the attempt - while one can learn 
from their failures, it is not healthy to dwell on them too long.  
The ripples of Begma's destruction were too strong to overcome, even 
with the gloves.  I managed to sense the Pattern's presence, and 
glimpsed a ship rounding land for just a moment.  Then, I was beyond 
my limits, and could not go farther.  Rex agreed to raise power to 
continue where I had left off, but his attempt apparently failed.
	What interested me is that none of the others even thought of 
assistance until I asked, and only Rex would aid me.  I suspected 
why Madrak did not raise power - he hinted at a dark past, and I 
had seen the taint he bears with him.  But the others did nothing.
	We acquired horses, and rode to Chiare.  It did not take long to 
find Sunfall.  But, she had not yet shown the will to break free of 
her servitude to those of her land.  In order to aid us, she was 
required to ask permission.  I did not mind - doing so would allow me 
to warn the rulers of Chiare, and perhaps even measure the effect of 
Begma's destruction upon the Wheel of Runes.
	Still, as we talked and waited for Sunfall to return, the old 
habits came to the fore.  I found myself wondering why I would place 
myself at such risk, dragging along strangers I had only met scant 
days beforehand.  The answer came almost instantly.  Ashlin.  For 
his memory, I would go to hell and back...alone or with countless 
multitudes.
	I would not go blindly, though.  Soon, I would know the truth 
about the others, or as much as I could gather.  Pleas to honesty 
and forthrightness at the start, harsher means should the former 
fail.  Only the mission mattered, the charge given to me by the one 
man with whom I had let down my defenses, allowing myself to view him 
as a friend.  But he died long ago, or so I believed.
	The life of an assassin is a solitary one.  Though I was with 
a group of strangers, I walked alone.
	That would change.