The massive crowd of pilgrims was gathered on the parade grounds outside Zagros, the great capital city of the Vifal Empire. All species, races, and classes of the empire, and many form outside the empire, were represented. They were all there for the same reason, to participate in the Great Quest.

There were the mechanically-minded gnomes with their hot air balloons and pedal-powered autogyros. There were apprentice wizards with their homemade orinthopters, medium-grade wizards with their cloaks of flying, advanced wizards with winged shoes, and master wizards who floated around with no visible tool. There were foreign-looking men riding on intricately woven carpets floating several feet above the ground.

But the majority of the crowd consisted of proud knights and warriors of all races, with flying steeds. Chivalry, convention, or pride demanded that they devote time and effort to this Great Quest. The humans preferred riding pegasi, the dwarves tended toward griffons, and the halflings were riding bareback on proud intelligent eagles that were more partner than steed, A few especially strong and brave people of various races were even mounted on dragons.

There were also beings in the crowd that were rarely seen. A group of the mysterious deep forest elves stood off to one side, standing beside their giant dragonflies. There were the bird-men of the high mountains, who had no need of wings other than their own. There were even a few of the enigmantic mantis men, those insectile nomads from the desert wastes who, it was said, grew their wings especially for the purpose of joining the Quest.

There were also less savory characters in the crowd. The orcs were riding their vicious poisonous wyverns, keeping them under fierce restraint. Hags and witches held their brooms. There were goblins riding giant bats. Vampires and other undead were riding skeletal nightmare steeds, ghostly horses with hooves of fire that never quite touched the ground and would fly into the air at a moment's notice.

At any other time, many of these various pilgrims would have attacked each other on sight. But this week was different. Theis was the week of the Quest. For one week of the year, all differences were put aside so that all peoples could cooperate to search the sky for the promised land, with its heavenly Lady. If one person found the way, all others would be notified, so that everyone would have the chance to fly to paradise. It had not happened yet, it would probably not happen this yeat, but the priests assured everyone that it would happen eventually, if they were only faithful.

Everyone assembled there knew all knew about the ancient prophesies, the cryptic directions that could lead the wise and faithful to the promised reward. There were a thousand translations, and ten thousand interpretations, of the verses that were written the the language of the Ancients, that long-lost race of men who, it was said, became masters of earth and air, ironmongery and sorcery, before the gods had cast them down in their pride. But the words would now be recited in their original language, in the ritual that began the Quest. An elderly priest, the high priest of the Empire, began to speak the title of the verse:

"Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds"