You wake up in a cold sweat, unable to even remember in what order all those things appeared in your dream. Eventually, you decide to try and clear your head with a walk through the streets of Linhaus. While wandering around, you pass a public bulletin board, and something catches your eye about one of the postings. Most of the plain sheet of parchment seems entirely unremarkable, but the salutation at the bottom...
It's big enough to read from several feet away, and instead of saying "Sincerely" or "Truly Yours" or another usual line of formality, the peculiar and un-practiced-looking penmanship of this salutation spells out the word "Delightfully".
As you stand there regarding this curious coincidence, a few other people also stop and seem to stare at the very same posting.
You wake up in a cold sweat, unable to even remember in what order all those things appeared in your dream. Eventually, you decide to try and clear your head with a walk through the streets of Linhaus. While wandering around, you pass a public bulletin board, and something catches your eye about one of the postings. Most of the plain sheet of parchment seems entirely unremarkable, but the salutation at the bottom...
It's big enough to read from several feet away, and instead of saying "Sincerely" or "Truly Yours" or another usual line of formality, the peculiar and un-practiced-looking penmanship of this salutation spells out the word "Delightfully".
As you stand there regarding this curious coincidence, a few other people also stop and seem to stare at the very same posting.
You wake up in a cold sweat, unable to even remember in what order all those things appeared in your dream. Eventually, you decide to try and clear your head with a walk through the streets of Linhaus. While wandering around, you pass a public bulletin board, and something catches your eye about one of the postings. Most of the plain sheet of parchment seems entirely unremarkable, but the salutation at the bottom...
It's big enough to read from several feet away, and instead of saying "Sincerely" or "Truly Yours" or another usual line of formality, the peculiar and un-practiced-looking penmanship of this salutation spells out the word "Delightfully".
As you stand there regarding this curious coincidence, a few other people also stop and seem to stare at the very same posting.
You wake up in a cold sweat, unable to even remember in what order all those things appeared in your dream. Eventually, you decide to try and clear your head with a walk through the streets of Linhaus. While wandering around, you pass a public bulletin board, and you notice a few people all standing in an odd silence, looking at one of the postings. You take a look: most of the plain sheet of parchment seems entirely unremarkable, but the salutation at the bottom...
It's big enough to read from several feet away, and instead of saying "Sincerely" or "Truly Yours" or another usual line of formality, the peculiar and un-practiced-looking penmanship of this salutation spells out the word "Delightfully".
You wake up in a cold sweat, unable to even remember in what order all those things appeared in your dream. Eventually, you decide to try and clear your head with a walk through the streets of Linhaus. While wandering around, you pass a public bulletin board, and you notice a few people all standing in an odd silence, looking at one of the postings. You take a look: most of the plain sheet of parchment seems entirely unremarkable, but the salutation at the bottom...
It's big enough to read from several feet away, and instead of saying "Sincerely" or "Truly Yours" or another usual line of formality, the peculiar and un-practiced-looking penmanship of this salutation spells out the word "Delightfully".
Interesting. Wonder what the connection is.
Wraith moves closer to the notice, reading carefully and studying the page and its contents for any clues to how it might connect to the strange, disjointed images and sensations from her dream.
Gwenifer wakes up in a cold sweat from a troubling dream she just had but the details are already quickly fading. She tries to make sense of the jumbled visions but it only ends up hurting her head more. The one thing that sticks out in her mind is her chasing a bizarre parchment with the word "Delightfully" written on it.
I need to get some fresh air. she says out loud to herself. Without bothering to change out of her silken night clothes or straighten her frazzled blonde hair, she stumbles into Lindhaus' streets for a walk. Maybe I partied a little too hard last night... Gwen scratches her head.
When she passes by the public bulletin board, at first she only gives it a casual glance but then something immediately catches her eye.
Gwenifer pushes past the small elven woman looking at the notice and snatches the parchment off the board with a quick yank.
"What is this! Huh?!" Gwen looks around at the others gathered nearby and shoves the posting roughly in one of the men's faces. "Did you do this?!"
Without waiting for a response, she pulls the paper away from the man then holds it out at arms length in front of her and squints at the writing. "Delightfully... Delightfully..." she mumbles to her self and reads the document while scanning it for a signature of some kind.
Suddenly realizing that everyone is probably now staring at her for her outburst, she throws the bulletin into the air and shouts, "What are you all looking at?! I'm in a foul mood okay! If you're looking to start something with me, I'm ready!" She is unarmed and scantily clad but doesn't seem abashed at all about her appearance.
Reading the parchment, Naia notices the other elf also giving it more than a passing glance. Before she can speak a human woman bursts upon the scene, and...events unfold.
Naia cocks her head to the side, wondering if this is normal behaviour for villagers. The elf-maid decides it is most definitely not, given the stunned bemusement reflected in nearby personage's countenance.
"I had a dream in which that word - Delightfully appeared. Most disconcerting..." Naia reaches out a delicate hand cautiously toward the held parchment, with a wry smile toward the human female.
"If I may be permitted to read the import of the missive..."
To whom it may concern;
The Avonali Academy of Magecraft, Linhaus Campus, seeks to employ a team of independent persons for a task of moderate risk. Additional details may be requested in person at the front desk of the AAM Linhaus Campus administrative building. Amount of cash compensation is negotiable.
Gwenifer grabs Naia's shoulders and shakes her with incredible strength. "You had the same dream?! Tell me, do you remember anything about it?"
Gwen releases her and raises a fist angrily in the air and shouts towards the heavens. "Oh ye gods, you play us for fools! But I'm on to your ways! One day I'll be beyond such treatment!"
She thrusts the now crinkled parchment into Naia's hands. "Take it. Maybe you can make more sense of it than I can." She then throws her hands in the air in frustration and lets out a huff.
Wraith looks thoughtful, then mumbles to herself, Only way to figure out what all this means is to take the job. She heads off toward the indicated building.
Finlogan read the parchment while others gathered. Afterwards, he gave the commoners some distance, especially the excitable woman, while he decided what to do. Evidently, the dream was common. Must be magic, he concluded.
"I agree," he says to no one in particular and began following the elf-maid to the AAM Linhaus Campus administrative building.
The burnished copper-colored hair of this wood elf is unusually cropped short exposing his sharpened ears. His whip lean figure is armored in studded leather and stands a shade under six feet. He shoulders a longbow, quiver, and backpack. Strapped to the backpack are a waterskiing, a coil of hemp rope, and a waxed woolen, hooded cloak. On a wide, leather weapons’ belt around his lean waist hung scabbards of two shortswords on each side and a dagger in the small of his back. His liquid gold-colored eyes and easy smile welcomes you.
The tiny halfling stood away from the ruckus the human was creating. She peered around and saw the parchment and listened silently as the others talked about their obviously shared dreams. Her multiple potion and tonic vials tinkled as she moved around to inspect the actual note. "Sounds like we've all had the same dream. I doubt it's a coincidence. I'm Teo by the way, purveyor of Teo's Terrific Tonics. Good for what ail you. I could make you a nice deal, since it seems someone wants us to be partners."
Her eyes lit up at seeing the compensation line in the note. She practically marched the others to the meeting place to discuss that very subject.
"Wait? What? You are going there right now? It's too early. I can't go there looking like this." Gwenifer gestures to herself with her hands.
"Shit! If your serious, at least tell whoever this is that I'll be there soon. Gotta go!"
Gwenifer rushes back to her room to get ready. She draws a bath, bathes, brushes her hair, applies make up and perfume, and finally dons her polished splint mail armor. After posing in front of the mirror for a few minutes to make sure she looks perfect, she saunters out of the inn and makes her way towards the Avonali Academy of Magecraft looking like a completely different person.
Ahh...this is so much better. First impressions are very important. I've been in town a few days but I've never visited the Academy of Magecraft yet. I haven't had a reason too. I don't particularly care for magic. I bet this employer is some twiggy bookworm looking to hire some muscle because he doesn't have any. Although that dream I had is still bothering me and the fact that others claim to have dreamed the same thing is even more disturbing. It's probably better that I arrive fashionably late. If this turns out to be some kind of trap, I can rescue the others. Yeah, wouldn't that be great. That'd totally up my reputation in town. I always welcome earning more fame. Yeah... Lost in thought, Gwenifer smiles to herself as she walks.
Naia smiles good naturedly at the talkative Halfling's energy, and allows herself to be led to the Academy. She listens attentively to Teo's spiel, but politely refuses to make a purchase.
"...and then there was that time that I came upon a poor little old lady with the dragon pox. Terrible case, I tell you. Two gold later, she was drinking Teo's Pox Preventer. Next thing you know, she was doing backflips all over her living room. It was truly a miracle," Teo says as she pauses, almost tearing up at the memory. "But, tell me more about the rest of you. We know the human is all about entrances, that's for sure!"
She kept leading the group toward the meeting site.
Everyone but Gwen heads straight for the AAM office, at which point you all realize just how much your dreams threw you off: it's too early for the office to even be open yet. Eventually, you hear someone fiddling with the lock, and someone steps out of the door and reaches for the "Closed" sign, just in time to see these four strangers standing there waiting (and a fifth hustling to catch up in her armor and makeup).
"Oh," says a petite human woman as she tucks the sign under one arm. "Um, were you all waiting for us to open? Can I help you?"
Wraith shrugs. We saw the notice posted on the board in town. We're here about the job.
"Yes, good morning. We seek the person at the front desk of the AAM Linhaus Campus administrative building. According to the posting public bulletin board, we can request more information from them about an employment opportunity." Finlogan replies taking the lead of the group.
After a pause with a smile, he continues, "Evidently, someone has magically tinkered with all of our dreams to encourage us to apply. Would you be able to help us?" He asks with a genuine smile.
Gwenifer smiles smugly when she sees the group still waiting outside. I told them it was too early. Since others are already talking, she stands quietly at the back of the gathering for now.
The woman rolls her eyes from behind her librarian-style spectacles at the mention of dream-tampering. "Ohhhh, yes," she says sarcastically, "I'm sure you're all destined for this, and the department that posted the job desperately needs your help. Nobody here has ever heard such a thing used as a fee negotiation ploy, no sir."
She sighs and shakes her head. "Look, the compensation's not up to me; I'm just the front desk clerk." She ushers you all into the lobby and gestures to a row of chairs, then takes a seat behind a desk. "So," she says, opening a drawer and looking like she's ready to dig something out, "Which department is this for? Who signed the posting?"
No idea. The signature was illegible. But the ending salutation was unusual - they signed it "Delightfully". Any idea what this might be about?
Gwenifer grips the edge of her chair tightly but remains seated. "Listen, lady. I don't like your sarcastic tone. We're here because one of your fancy-pants wizards thought he'd play a funny and mess with our dreams. I, for one, do not take kindly to those who invade my mind like that. I have a right mind to wring his pencil neck when I meet him. And we don't know who signed the posting because his "high-brow" signature is illegible. It says on the flyer that the front desk would have additional information. That's you right?"
The receptionist starts to respond to Wraith, then closes her mouth and narrows her eyes while listening to Gwen's outburst.
"Listen, dearie," she says, eyeing Gwenifer over the top of her spectacles, "For one thing, you're sitting in a building staffed by people who make a living by teaching students how to fly around shooting lightning out their ears, so you might just reconsider your aggressive strategy. For another thing, this is a campus of the nation's most prestigious magical university. We are professionals, not given to mental pranks. So just go ahead and drop the 'victim' act; it's not going to work here."
She seems 100% convinced that those of you who are talking about dream manipulation—especially Gwen—are simply lying in an attempt to get something from the Academy.
"Now then," she continues with a professional smile, "The illegible signature is most likely from Mr. Tokor, head of Inventory and Acquisitions. He has to sign his name so much that speed and repetition have made a casualty of legibility. Now, let's see..."
She holds her graying bangs out of her face with one hand as she leans down to flip through the contents of the file drawer she had opened earlier. Presently, she says "Ah, here we are!" and produces a neat, vellum folder and opens it.
She glances over the folder's contents briefly, then chuckles. "Of course it would be about missing equipment," she says with a smirk. Looking up to the group of you, she reads from a summary page: "A shipment of supplies and equipment from the main campus in Sempal has not arrived, nor has the courier made any contact with either campus. The job is to investigate the cause of the delay and retrieve the cargo if possible. If there has been any sort of accident, providing assistance to the courier would be appreciated as well. There should be three sealed crates, each of which will earn 20 gold pieces for its safe return. Additional compensation for complications or expenses may be discussed with Mr. Tokor upon completion of the job."
The clerk then pulls out a second copy of the summary sheet, as well as another sheet that has several horizontal lines, spaced broadly. With a practiced ease, she recites, "This is the summary sheet for this job. This is the acceptance contract. Everyone who wishes to take this job, please sign on one of the lines."
Gwenifer mumbles to herself. "But I am a victim..."
After the clerk's explanation. "So we don't even get to meet this Mr. Tokor until his task is complete. How convenient... If he wanted my help, all he had to do was ask. As a rising hero and star in Linhaus, I would have gladly offered my assistance without the need for manipulation."
Gwenifer reads the summary sheet and signs the contract. "Well it's a new day and I'm refreshed and ready to go. I suppose I'll be working with you fine ladies and gentleman for the time being." She stands tall and offers her hand. Her face beams with a perfect smile. "I'm Gwenifer. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Finlogan's eyes of liquid gold narrow at the sarcastic tone of the commoner directed at him, and his smile evaporates. He counts to ten in his head before formulating a response. As she self-described, she works for a living.
The wood elf flatly replies, "madame, may I please have your name and position here at the academy?"
Wraith scans (ok, reads in detail in the time it normally takes to scan) the contract, then signs.
The clerk rolls her eyes at Gwenifer. "Of course you can meet him beforehand," she says. "He's probably in his office; feel free to ask him if you have any questions about the job." She points toward an office door labeled "Tokor".
Turning to Finlogan, she answers him: "Of course; my name is Ella Townsend, and I am Chief Secretary of this campus. And you are...?"
"I think I will!" Gwen marches over to Tokor's door.
"Finlogan, a prince of Escalus," the wood elf replies to the Chief Secretary as if the title is enough of a declaration.
He pauses a few seconds for that to sink in before continuing, "who is in charge of this academy or at least this campus, Madame Townsend? Would it be a headmaster or headmistress? How would I arrange a meeting with this person?"
Persuasion
"Nkw of course we'd be happy to help, but that simply isn't enough gold. We'd be betting into something we know nothing about for barely enough to buy us a good dinner. How about we get 100 gold total for the three crates instead of sixty?"
At Finlogan's declaration of nobility, Ella Townsend's eyes flick down toward his signet ring for a fraction of a second, as though reflexively checking his claim for validity. She inhales slightly and straightens her posture a bit, but keeps her composure.
Offering a slightly softer version of her previous smiles, she replies, "Sir, this campus is run as something of an extension of the main campus, and so our organizational structure is of a somewhat... decentralized nature. Most of our faculty is given a good deal of autonomy, reporting occasionally to the department heads in Sempal. In a sense, the person who could best be described as being in charge of this campus would be me, since I'm the only one whose responsibilities extend across the entire faculty."
Townsend listens to the halfling's request, then replies, "The faculty that post for jobs are responsible for determining compensation, as well as for handling their own budgets. I really couldn't say whether Mr. Tokor can afford to increase the amount, though I would remind you that the summary sheet said that compensation for expenses would be an option. Feel free to accompany the feisty blonde to his office."
"Is there anything else?" she asks, then when she makes eye contact with Finlogan again, she adds, "Sir?"
Wraith thanks the secretary and heads for Tokor's office, leaning in the now-open doorway, ready to watch the fireworks. This could prove interesting. This is definitely someone to watch. But not to obviously - she clearly enjoys being the center of attention.
Finlogan provides a friendly smile at the return of her civility. "Yes, I believe I've few more questions, Madame Townsend. What is the process for posting opportunities of employment with the Academy on the public bulletin board? Are there any other opportunities of employment that are currently posted?"
He pauses for a moment, "Mr. Tokor. What can you tell me of your head of Inventory and Acquisitions? You didn't seem surprised about the missing equipment, why?"
He pauses again and closes with, "and finally, is there a professor here who specializes in dream magic? Or an elf who prefers dressing in blue-and-white scholar's robes in the academy?"
Naia is mostly discombobulated by the bureaucracy, innuendo and other currents in the varied conversations. The elf-maid understands enough to sign the proferred parchment, but otherwise stays silent.
She follows along toTokor's office.
The Chief Secretary keeps opening her mouth to answer one of Finlogan's questions, then stopping as he asks the next. When he eventually stops, she waits several moments to make sure he's done, then finally speaks.
"Let's see... As I said earlier, the faculty has a good deal of autonomy here, so as long as they don't blow their budgets or abuse their privileges they're free to post as they please, though of course they have to do some paperwork for the records. As for other opportunities, I noticed while I was digging out that file that the other two such jobs must have been resolved last night. Or if you mean something more long-term, we're still developing our staff, since this campus is still relatively new."
Ella Townsend takes a breath, then continues: "Mr. Tokor is a very cheerful man; much more so than what people typically assume for the kind of person who would be drawn to such a bookkeeping-heavy occupation. All the focus of the most stereotypical bean-counter, but always happy to meet a new friend. The reason I wasn't surprised about the missing shipment is because it's not late enough for me to think anything is amiss yet; sometimes packages don't arrive exactly on time, you know? But of course, Mr. Ducks-In-A-Row would notice and react. I think it's a little silly, but like I said, it's his budget."
Finlogan nods along with her answers, "you are being most helpful. I believe I'm at the end of my inquiries with these last questions: To follow up, why must the other two such jobs have been resolved last night? And who posted those two jobs? I want to ensure that we find the right person who posted what we dreamed about." He foreshadows that he was quite serious about the dream magic question.
After a slight pause, "and lastly, I repeat my earlier questions: is there a professor here who specializes in dream magic? Or an elf who prefers wearing blue-and-white scholar's robes in the academy?"
Teo has the same questions for the 'boss' as she did the assistant. Mainly about the recompense for the assignment., and how it seemed terribly low to her.
After a slight pause, "and lastly, I repeat my earlier questions: is there a professor here who specializes in dream magic? Or an elf who prefers wearing blue-and-white scholar's robes in the academy?"
Ella gets a confused look. "What is it with you people and dreams? To my knowledge, there's no such thing as 'specializing in dream magic'. The fields of enchantment and divination might occasionally interact with dreams, but it's far from the most relevant aspect of either field. Besides, like I said earlier, I can't imagine any reason anybody would want to mess with your dreams. Are you really serious?"
She seems genuinely bewildered at this fixation on dreams, as though the very notion of the faculty tampering with your dreams is too absurd to consider.
She closes her eyes a moment and shakes her head. "Anyway, to continue with your list of inquiries: the folders for the other two jobs now have the standard 'Resolved: Please File' card attached to them in the drawer. I always do a bit of filing in the morning, and that's the normal way of indicating in include them in my pile. Honestly, have you never seen the operation of an office before?"
Wincing slightly at catching herself vocalizing her exasperation with a noble, she reaches for the drawer and says, "But of course, sir, I can tell you who posted those other two jobs. Let's see, one was Professor Tellofog offering to buy metallic scrap, most likely for use in demonstrating how to animate clockwork devices—which, before you ask, I'll point out is pretty ordinary—and the other was Professor Gricht wanting someone to gather some specific herbs, most likely for use in making healing potions—which, again, is perfectly in line with his role in the Academy."
She puts the files down on the desk (rather than back in the drawer since, as she said, they need to be archived anyway). Her face turns pensive as she tries to remember whether she's answered every question yet, then after a couple of moments says, "Oh yes, you asked about blue and white robes? Sorry, but our faculty robes are gold and purple, and students just wear ordinary street clothes. I've no idea whom you might be looking for, sorry."
After a brief pause, she annotates, "Sir."
Meanwhile, as Finlogan is wrapping up with the secretary, the rest of you have approached Mr. Tokor's office and knocked on the door. Moments later, the door flies open, revealing the most cheerful-looking orc you've ever seen.
"Hello!" he says energetically, a smile beaming from atop his perfectly-adjusted faculty robes. "Looks like I'm making some new friends today, delightful! I'm Mr. Tokor; are you new students, or visitors? What can I do for you?"
Wraith nods at the orc in greeting. We're here about the job posting - something about a late or missing shipment, according to Ella. Some of these adventurers have questions for you.
Gwenifer stares at the ridiculous looking orc. It is completely not what she was expecting. Her temper is diffused and she bursts out laughing, eventually falling onto her back and rolling on the floor.
"Bwahahaha! You are Mr. Tokor? And you don't recognize us at all, do you? Bwahahaha!"
After a minute of rolling on the floor laughing, she stands back up and adjusts herself. She shouts towards the ceiling at no one in particular. "I am not the gods' puppet!"
She then politely smiles at Tokor and says sweetly. "I'm sorry but you have no idea what I'm talking about do you? I'm Gwenifer and company. We were all drawn to your job posting by apparently some sort of divine intervention. And, no, I'm not saying that to bargain for more pay. In fact, I'm starting to believe that you are probably an unwitting victim of this strange plot as well. Just what is so special about this deliver of yours? And don't worry, I've signed your contract so I'm bound to retrieve it even if you say its just something mundane. But I have a feeling there's something more to this than what you're letting on...so spill it!"
Wraith scowls at Gwen. She does not necessarily speak for all of us. We just met this morning and have not discussed the idea of becoming a formal group.
Tokor laughs jovially, then says, "You're a spirited one, aren't you? Delightful! Pleasure to meet you, Gwenifer!"
He makes his rounds, energetically shaking hands with each of you in turn and asking your names.
"Naturally I will answer any questions I can about the task, so come on into my office and have a seat! I'm a heavy tea drinker, so I've got a whole pot that's just finished if any of you would like some. I have a second pot I can get started, so no need to worry about drinking it all up! Come in, come in!"
He excitedly ushers you all into his office. It's not exceptionally large, but everything is so organized and tidy that you marvel at the efficiency of his use of his space; you're all able to sit down relatively comfortably despite there being a desk, two potted plants, a small table, enough chair for you all, and more bookshelves than you've ever seen in one room outside of a library.
"Go ahead and get comfortable!" he says cheerfully as he begins pouring cups of tea and handing them out to whoever wants it, "So, what would you like to know about the job?"
Finlogan's smile dissolves when she questions his seriousness. "When several strangers describe what I have just dreamed without me asking them, I take the situation seriously."
He pauses to recover a gracious smile, "Thank you very much for your time, Madame Townsend. I would like to join the conversation with Mr. Tokor. Meanwhile, would you please be so kind as to find the postings that were on the public bulletin board for those two other jobs? I would like to see you later and ensure that they were not signed Delightfully. Thank you again for your tremendous support, Chief Secretary."
He expects pushback for his request and wants to see how the Chief Secretary reacts. Regardless, with practiced etiquette he politely closes their conversation and heads toward Mr. Tokor's office.
The wood elf arrives after the introductions with Mr. Tokor and leans inside the doorway with a pleasant smile on his face.
"I'm up for most interesting jobs. But I have to insist that we receive fair gold in exchange. The offer we received is much too light for the task we would perform. It's all economics," Teo says with a grin.
"Oh, is that all?" Ella says in response to Finlogan's request. "That's just how Mr. Tokor signs everything. I swear, that man is delighted just by failing to stub his toe on his way to the restroom; you'll see when you meet him. But here, have a look."
She produces a pair of weathered-looking parchments with nail-holes in their corners from out of the folders and shows them to you. Sure enough, one is signed "Respectfully" and the other "Gratefully", and each in a far more normal font size.
"Come in, come in!" says the bubbly Mr. Tokor when Finlogan arrives. "Plenty of room and tea for everyone!"
He listens with an earnest smile as Teo asks for cash, then lets out another friendly laugh. "Ha ha! Well, that's because I'm hoping it will be an equally light task; just a matter of carrying boxes down the road or fixing the axle on a courier's cart. Certainly if it turns out to be more work than that, there will be additional compensation as appropriate."
Tokor smiles at each of you in turn. "What other questions have you all, friends?"
Naia smiles demurely as the orc touches her hand with unreasonable familiarity and then...shakes it. The elf-maid gravitates toward the potted plant, and waits for a break in the conversation.
"There is the small but troubling matter of dream-magic - [here indicates the assembled company] each of us have had our rest interrupted by one not of your Order - or at least, caparisoned somewhat differently..."
Naia relates her dream.
"Is this elf known to you? Are there machinations afoot beyond the simple discovery of the whereabouts of a courier and the retrieval of lost objects, Good Tokor?"
"I would love some tea!" Gwen reclines sideways over the arms of a chair. "But you still haven't answered, what's in the boxes?"
With practiced etiquette, Finlogan politely closes his conversation with the Chief Secretary and heads toward Mr. Tokor's office.
Finlogan passes the elf-maid in the doorway with a graceful nod. The wood elf finds a seat on the opposite side of the room as Gwenifer and sits like a prince. He politely declines the first round of tea.
He surveys the room and listens to Mr. Tokor and the strangers who apparently shared his dream. Now, that he is delightfully certain the dream led him here, he wants to understand why and who are these people.
Gwenifer turns to everyone in the doorway. "Come sit, you guys. Quit being creepers. I'm sure Mr. Tokor has something very important to say. It may even take your feet right out from under you. It already happened to me once. Hahaha!" Gwen kicks her legs hanging off the side of the chair. "Heavy armor is not made for sitting comfortably. Fortunately, mine is padded in all the right areas."