"... and thus did the heroes of our story win their race against time. The powerful Krick had engaged the dread ice demon in mortal combat long enough for Yamalla to complete the mighty enchantment he was weaving. With the last words of magic spoken, the skilled sha'ir opened a roaring vortex to the Plane of Fire and forever destroyed the foul minion of the Dark Dweller, allowing our heroes to recover the twelfth of the Thirteen Treasures of Rul."

Once more, the large room of the Mermaid's Tale tavern was filled with enthusiastic and heartfelt applause. Anyone who had just arrived would not think that the audience had been in the room listening to tales since sunset the night before. Now, it is but a few short hours before the dawn. Some of the audience, such as the old fisherman Pinagore, hid yawns amongst their cheers. But none were willing to surrender to sleep and call it a night. The stories were too interesting to miss. Especially the children, who still bubbled with energy – and comments – despite the fact they would normally have been asleep long before now.

"If Yamalla can open a door to the plane of Fire, why didn't he just melt the ice to get the Treasure?"
"Weren't you listening? If he did that, the demon would have gotten the Treasure first."
"Jeannie tunneled into the glacier to get the Treasure? I thought Kalaban was the master thief."
"The Korb likes fish guts? That is so icky!"
"If the heroes are so powerful, why do they even need the Treasures?"

The elderly storyteller smiles down at the children. "Good question indeed, youngling. The heroes of my tales needed the Treasures because Ren needed them. And, for while they were indeed strong, much of Mer is not as strong. Do you think that you could arm-wrestle a Korb? I didn't think so. The quest for the Treasures was about helping others."

Once more, the old bard turned her face towards the whole of the audience. "I thank you for your kindness in indulging an old rawun this night. We have been here for very long and have heard many tales. But our journey has nearly ended; land can be seen from the crow's nest. I have but two more tales to tell. I beg for a bit more patience and then we can all finally rest."

"This next tale I sing, as I'm sure you can guess, is about the last of Rul's lost artifacts. Our heroes would have to travel to a place for more dangerous than any they had been to before – a place from which no water can be seen." A startled gasp from the audience interrupted the old woman. Soft, but polite, rumblings of disbelief quickly followed it. Where on Mer could one not see water? This is a stretch of storytelling to be sure.

"Wait, my friends! Be not too quick to judge. There are indeed places on this world where the oceans have no hold. Or rather, I should say, there are places in this world. For our heroes journeyed not under the waters, but under the ground. To the kingdom of the feared Atani warriors. It was there they would find the last of the Thirteen Treasures. However, deep under the ground beneath our feet, our brave adventurers would have to find a way to break two sieges before they could claim the lost Treasure. One from the surface being carried out the vicious pirates under the command of Bloth. The other from the very core of Mer itself, which as we all know was the prison of the Dark Dweller himself."

"Sit back and listen now to my words as I sing of the voyages of the Reef Runner and her crew..."