Once there stood a small village in the middle of a forest.  It was a happy and pious village, with a simple yet elegant temple to their patron deity of light.  The villagers worshipped here for many Deochs, and word of the humble magnificence of their forest church spread across the land.

  Fame brings attention, both wanted and not.  A horde of dubhaimid, hearing of this place where worshippers of light gathered, did what only comes naturally to them.  They invaded the forest and attacked the village.  The simple villagers were no match for a mighty horde of demons of darkness.  The village fell quickly, razed to the ground.  The once majestic temple was torn asunder by the claws of darkness.  The villagers were likewise razed, burnt to naught but ash and bone in the fires spewed forth by the dubhaimid.

  There was but one survivor of the massacre.  A simple acolyte of the forest church, he had lost his nerve seeing the advancing hordes and fled into the forest, managing to escape pursuit.  Seeing his home in ruins, feeling woe for not having tried to save his church, the young acolyte made a solemn vow then and there.  Never again would he allow such wanton destruction to befall the worshippers of light.

  He studied long and hard his spells.  He prayed with fervor to the gods to bolster his piety.  Upon advancing to the rank of Priest, he set out on his sacred quest to rid the lands of all signs of darkness.  He started small, but with his dedication his power quickly grew.  He learned the magics to heal and the magics to induce sleep and poison.  He learned to call curses down upon his enemies, and eventually even the divine light itself was at his command.  Few creatures of darkness could now stand before him.  He had become what he had set out to be; a shining beacon of light to cast away the shadows of the world.

  And so it was that he sought out darkness wherever it may lurk and smote it with all his heart.  His pride swelled with each victory.  Vengeance for his forest village would be his!  Along his travels, he came upon a hunchback with a tale of woe.  Easing the suffering of others was what this priest lived for; he could not refuse the hunchback's pleas.  Listening to the poor hunchback, he learned what it was that must be done.  He had but to perform this rite upon a certain day of the moon; easily done for one who had amassed such vast stores of holy power.

  The priest set out upon the quest of the rite, but soon found an obstacle he had not foreseen.  In his mad rush for power and yet more power, he had cast out the earliest pages of his spell book.  He no longer had the simplest spell of all; the ability to tell the day and date, Nis.  Without this one spell, he could not perform the hunchback's quest!  The priest quickly found his ego deflated as he had to beg mere peasants to tell him the day of the moon.  His confidence shattered, this priest of the light learned his lesson a bit too late:

 Sometimes the simplest light is all that is required to guide you on your way.