Stories passed from generations ago, long before the man was yet a child, and still those cherished memories shared so pleasantly grew into a boundless desire to explore those lands first-hand. Threnthian held those old tales close to heart as he traveled to this nigh-mythological realm of Oberin. He traced the clues leading back to the portal his elders had spoke so much about, wondering how they had ever escaped from such a place while simultaneously wondering why he would seek it out.
He traveled across the seas aboard several ships destined for failure. Turbulent storms and dangerous leagues of brine placed Threnthian's every voyage in peril, and he waited patiently for the day his search would claim his life, or grant him the new one he so desired. After nearly a decade, Threnthian finally saw the omens he saught: the great vortex threatening to consume the ship and its crew. He alerted the Captain. His sealegs had grown steady, by then, and Threnthian told the Captain and his mate what needed done to save their ship. This was his stop, though, and so he bought one of their skiffs and had it lowered to the water. He waved goodbye to an astonished crew, and soon Threnthian's skiff was torn to pieces by the crasing waves.
Half-drowned and choking, Threnthian awoke upon the stone steps of Mirith's bank. He smiled. It worked. A not-so-astonished fellow looked down at him with the typical concern of someone who has been there before. "Hello. Just arrived here?" "Yes," Threnthian told the man, his eyes wide with wonder and clear as if seeing life for the first time. 'Yes, I'm here, and it is exactly how the stories said it would be!'