"And Leareth, who did know, was planning another war."

Vanyel nods. Looks unhappy about it. 

The blue-clad woman introduced earlier as Karna returns. "The moon is rising. Are you ready to come view the tapestries?" 

"We are. Thank you."

Vanyel gets up and follows the woman, still frowning. 

Moondance walks like he isn't really seeing the world around them. 

The tapestry is in a stone room with a glass roof and windows, already letting in a sliver of moonlight. It looks very, very old; the colours are faded, the picture no longer discernible by ordinary eyes. 

It is, to mage-sight and Detect Magic, very magical, though in a strange way, different from any other Velgarth magic they've seen to date. 

"I will show you several pieces," Karna says. "The most important, since I am told you wish to depart soon." 

She starts to narrate - a similar beginning to the story she told before, but in rote, verse-like sentences. 

- And suddenly they're somewhere else. 

Shaman Ravenwing shena Taylesederin, of the Hawk Clan, stood at the rim of the world, staring out onto what they had come so far to see. Which was…nothing. 

(The clans grieve. They discuss. Argue. The future Tayledras leave. Shift to another scene.) 

"I have done a Seeking and a Calling," she says to Silverhorse, the too-young Elder of her clan, "and I have been answered. But the price of their aid will be in blood.”

“Whose?”

“The Elders of each Clan that is left.”

... 

“I will leave you to think on this. Come to me by moonrise with your decision.” 

“I do not need until moonrise. It is not all that difficult a choice to make, after all.” A smile, sweet and without fear. “When will you require me?" 

...

Silverhorse stepped off the top of the ridge, without a sound. Without hesitation. Falling into darkness, and then he was gone. 

And with the rising moon, She came.

The face of her Goddess shifted from moment the moment, Maid to Crone, Warrior to Mother, filling the sky – and yet She stood directly before Ravenwing, a woman in black, her features were those of the Kaled’a’in people but her eyes weren’t. 

Eyes that held the whole night sky.

(The Star-Eyed speaks to Her people. The three causes of the Cataclysm are mentioned. The pact is agreed upon.) 

And the Goddess stepped down from the sky, stepped down from the ridge into the crater, and began to walk. She spread her hands, and wherever her feet touched, a carpet of flowers grew. Grass, trees, springing up to hide the ruined scars. 

The magically-recorded fragments of memory, as vivid as life, finally comes to an end and release them. 

...Vanyel is not at all going to be able to hide the fact that he's shaking like a leaf and sobbing uncontrollably, is he. 

Hagan is of the opinion that Starwind and Moondance's goddess sucks but he's gonna try to not say so.

This is very upsetting and barely clarifying at all about Leareth!

Moondance gives Vanyel a hug. 

Karna looks apologetic. "That is the central piece of our history that we show to everyone. There is a little from before the Mage Wars, with Urtho. Since you are rushed, I am guessing you wish to see those now?" 

Starwind looks over at the Golarion visitors. "I think so. Moondance, is our Wingbrother–"

"I'm fine." 

This is maybe less personal for the adventurers, who are calmly taking notes and exchanging glances.

They watch Ravenwing as a child, meeting Urtho for the first time, declining to study at his academy because she instead wants to become a shaman to the Kaled'a'in people. Urtho looks exactly like the stereotype of a wise old man. Tall, thin, curly silver hair falling to his waist, his face more weathered than wrinkled, with a prominent beak-like nose, a deep gentle voice and kind blue eyes.  

...

There isn't anything on the start of the war or really on the reasons for it at all. The next vision is twenty years later, a meeting with the Kaled'a'in tribes after the loss of the Palace and capital city. Urtho, sick horror in his voice, explains Ma'ar's use of a dark magical artifact to sow fear in the Palace and empty it overnight, allowing his troops and mages to Gate in and take over with almost no resistance. The King was rescued, but is in a bad way and unable to lead. Urtho is visibly flustered by having to lead the war effort and give a speech in front of hundreds of people, but he tries very earnestly.

They discuss the Gate-terminus in the Palace; it's only keyed to approved mages, so Ma'ar shouldn't be able to use it, but he might discover how with study. The idea is floated that Urtho could shut it down destructively from a distance, releasing the energies bound in its stored power source and flattening the Palace, maybe killing Ma'ar. Urtho refuses. He can shut it down non-destructively. 

He attempts a rousing speech about how they have gryphons and courageous people and can still win. 

“Ma’ar must not win,” Urtho said, and his voice was hard, his blue eyes like ice. “No matter what, above all else, he must never take this tower. I fear he has become a scourge on the world, and we are the last chance to stop him.” He took a deep breath, shoulders straightening. “And so we will. We can find a way. You are my allies, and my friends, and I trust you with all my heart.” 

...

The next memory is unspecified weeks or months later, the war a blur to Ravenwing. Ma'ar's army is approaching and cannot be held back for long. Urtho orders the evacuation through the permanent Gates. His people take as many of his precious books as they can, but a great deal is left behind, and no one but Urtho is allowed in the lowest levels of the Tower anyway. 

Ravenwing goes to say goodbye to him. 

“All is not lost,” Urtho said. “There is a plan, though I cannot tell you more now.”

“Why?” It was a cracked, broken, pointless word.

“You want to know why Ma’ar is doing this?” A breath. “I cannot tell you. I have only guesses.” For the first time, she heard doubt in his voice. Confusion. “I knew him in his youth, and he was arrogant then – but such things are natural, when one is young and brilliant, brimming over with ideas and plans to change the world. I never thought…” His voice faltered. “I fear perhaps I left him with no better options. Yet he seeks power, and he cannot be allowed to succeed. And so this is how it must end, now, even if I wish it could have been otherwise.” 

And then he released her face, and pulled her in close to hug her.

It ends there. 

"Did Urtho at any point try offering terms?"

Karna looks thoughtful. "I am not sure that any of our histories say one way or another. The group that survived either did not have anyone in a position of command who would have known, or did not record it." 

He nods.

Karna ushers them out. Ke'valen can lead them to an indoor room with mats to sleep on. 

Vanyel makes it as far as the room and then starts crying again. :I'm sorry - don't know what's wrong with me - I think I'm just really tired, it's fine–:

"I mean, that was pretty horrible."

Moondance hugs Vanyel again. "It was quite upsetting for all of us, I think." 

Yes, well, no one else is having a breakdown over it so that doesn't really make him feel better.

Vanyel is, however, persuaded that the best thing to do about it is get some sleep. 

The shaman is back the next morning, shortly after Ke'valen brings them breakfast and, in addition to tea, a beverage he calls chava and says is good for waking up.