Alderyk, King of the Fallarin's page

Raises his wings, and silently sends out the call upon the winds: The Brethren are gathering: come fowl folk, come feathered friends.

I sense only ill winds would blow them there.

Communing with the winds, Alderyk senses much conflict on the threads...much hope of things to come...much focusing on bathing females...much prodding into secrets formerly hidden

You have! At last, the summons are reaching the brethren. If it helps you acclimate, feel free to summon winds from home to comfort you. At this rate, our communions and deliberations may soon commence.

Flaps his wings vigorously, summoning the winds to blow the noisome fumes to some other thread, away from the sacred precincts.
No, Jack. This is a sacred place where the feathered folk take refugee, counsel, and commune with the Winds (of Nature, not nature) and learn the secrets and news they carry. Outsiders come here to pay homage and gain our counsel.

We Fallarin feel your pain, brother, for we can only fly for short distances. However, here at the Place of the Winds, you can lean to use your wings and your mind to commune with the winds and even summon and manipulate them. Welcome. Notes down that supplicants will also need to bring feedcorn as well as animal sacrifices.

I have learned that the lizard murdered one of our brethren. Perhaps, as improbable as it seems, it is fear of him that has pushed them into hiding?

Sate your gullet, Vinny. Have you seen any of our brethren flying about?

When the gorillas are done with the pterdactyls, send them over to the Place of the Winds.

Finding that the kobold has a ridiculous sense of self in addition to being a murderer of birds, the King is no longer amused. He summons a real storm and blows him back into whatever bird-murdering thread he came from, ripping him from his puny attempts at anchorage.
As the kobold tumbles away, he hears over the winds a prophetic curse:
Because you have made enemies of those who did you no wrong, know this, Kobold-who-cleaves. On the day of your death, your flesh will be consumed by avian creatures. The bones will then he handed over to the Jacks, who will do humorous and immature things with them, before losing them in various places--their garbage disposal, under the couch cushions, in the compost heap. I, Alderyk, Brother of the Winds and King of the Fallarin, have spoken.

...and all hybrid magic.

The kobold discovers, to his dismay, that arcane magic doesn't work in the Place of the Winds

The ancient king of the avian men raises his beak to issues forth a cry that pierces the heavens. Without looking down, he begins beating his wings, and down comes a wind storm that buffets the rock hewn walls of the Place of the Winds. The roars knocks all non-winged creatures flat, who are medium sized or smaller and is nigh deafening.

What is this?
The scaly one slew one of the brethren!

So, about that roadkill....?

Brother Vinny, thanks for keeping watch during my hours of meditation. Unless the Jack and the Kobold, squabbling on the other side of the sacred boundary results in fresh kobold, there's the heap of carcasses in the feeding basin that I brought earlier. Points with wing to pile of bodies, just catching the glint of the winter sun.

Sighs...weren't there once great flocks of gulls, pigeons, and vultures on these boards? An owl or two?

There's not even any birds here yet except me, so how could there be eggs?
Away, golem. Come and consult us after we have assembled and taken counsel from the winds. And be sure to bring the totem of parley hands him ancient banner topped with an aurach's head with you and ring the sacred gong. Also, bring a large mammal and slaughter it as a sacrifice for our feasting. That is the prescribed ritual and correct procedure. Bear my greetings to your chief, the Callous One. Tell him that if he respects the sacredness of this place and its occupants, we will give wisdom to the Jacks in time of need.

Post pointing out that previous poster's avatar is only partially apt, in a shameless and ill-concealed attempt to increase cult membership.

Direct the winds to blow and dust off this thread.

The furry one seems determined to both offend and to take offense. These determinations fill the ancient with sadness, yet we will not falter in our quest to hearken to the winds, and be at peace in this holy place.

Perhaps your folk only know of one way of joining. We of the winged folk are able to share space and thoughts without exchanging bodily fluids. And these eagles that you claim as your property may have no spoken tongue, yet they may harbor wisdom that you know not.

Hmm... your question is a hard one, O scaly one. What are the lemmings? Are they part bird, or merely winged mammals? I would take counsel with my brethren, but apparently they are winging their ways from the far-flung places of the worlds.

The word is "meet," o whiskered one. It is time for the brethren to assemble. Too long have they been scattered across the boards, divided by petty wars. It is time for the feathered folk to ponder and take counsel.

In his sad vigil at the Place of the Winds, waiting for his avian brothers, Alderyk is forced to deal with those who, having not read the Books of Skaith, profane the holy place. Using his wings to call and manipulate the winds, he simply blows them all away in a great windstorm, pondering the meaningless, quick-tempered aggression that forced him to such action.

Why didn't they just send the giant eagles when I sent out the call?

Flapping over the thread:
And be sure to send all of your winged friends to the Place of the Winds...!

Flaps over with a load of carrion in his claws. I found these behind the Jacks' clubhouse. Dig in, Vinny. Perhaps a free feast will help draw in our brethren.
Moral: Never try to have a meeting without a feeding.

Suitors must stand outside the thread and await the good pleasure of the counsel.
Hint to Cat: You're not a bird.

Brothers of the Winds!
Let us assemble and take counsel together!