Pavilia looked forlornly out over the plaza. Tears ran from her eyes as she stared at the assembled crowd. She looked back to the bed, at the unconscious beggar. A fresh bout of crying took her. A booming voice penetrated the window.

"Vaylond saves! Vaylond will give you the life you deserve to have! No longer will you be trodden by the nobles, and scorned by the magi! With Vaylond all things are possible! With Vaylond, you can claim the place that is rightfully yours!"

A great cheer rose from the assembled throng. The man on the stand continued, his eyes ablaze with righteousness. "I am Tradarr, High Priest of Vaylond. And there are those out there who will tell you that I am a fraud and a deceiver, and that I will tell you nothing but lies. But you are here to witness the awesome power of Vaylond!"

A man was carried up the stairs. The man was set on a wooden palette. "This man was a soldier in the king's army. When he was brought back from battle, sorely wounded, the healers told him that there was nothing they could do. Both his legs were hacked off by their cruel saws. Where was his goddess then!"

Tradarr gave a brief glance to the window where Pavilia waited. She glanced back at the bed, and nodded. Tradarr continued to preach. "But this man's faith in Vaylond will save him. It will give him his legs back, because with Vaylond, all things can be granted to you! Vaylond asks for nothing but your devotion, and in exchange, he will grant your hearts' desires!"

Turning his eyes skyward and clutching the medallion at his neck, Tradarr walked over to where the man lay prone. Extending his other hand to touch the man's chest, he shouted, "Vaylond, I invoke your name! Hear the prayers of your servant! Restore this man!"

The medallion glowed fiercely. On the bed, the beggar gave a yell, but it was muffled by the gag in his mouth. He thrashed wildly, but to no avail. In the plaza, the crowd was gasping. The man's legs started to regrow from the stumps he had been left with. The glow of the healing stretched out until it had encompassed his new feet. Then the glow faded, and the amulet's light died. Tradarr stumbled forward, but caught himself. He straightened and again addressed the astonished crowd. "Witness the strength of Vaylond!" The crowd roared their faith.

Pavilia looked again at the bed, where the beggar lay still. Again, she could not hold back her tears.