Balfic; you and Kojan need to lighten up; your not even involved in this. There is pleanty of funny stuff from games left around that I have to give the bard characters something; this is pretty much story telling between Aahz, Erkholt, and Kalona and perhaps Decidio and Astinos if they are interested as no one else has shown any interest in story telling and bonding. I could tell the story of the dwarf who lost the cap to the bottle of everflowing water... and many others; lots of funny stuff in the games over the last two decades.
I keep trying to come up with a "whose on first skit" type thing; but nothing seems to fit so far. The game does not exist in a vacuum; there is history and stories get around.
Any more of this type stuff; please keep it to the discussion thread not the game thread; thanks
no; it is poking fun at a mage called Abraham; remember him; the guy who sold out the party to the black dragons in the swamp? and you know how halflings are; always poking fun at all the tall races, this story is told from halfing to halfling to halfling and you can imagine what that has done to the story.
Enter Moe, Curly, Larry and their drunken elven amigo. Well shaken with added halfling for flavor.Thats why this was included right?
They are pretty close to the opening to the hall; its quiet as they dont want to disturb those wanting to pray and sleep; so you have no diffulty hearing reasonably well.
I am outside so I won't be able to see, but I am listening intently, or at least trying to:
The voice not sounding particularly threating will not throw Kalona off her tale.
However, she will begin moving around between the listeners using her body as well as her voice to tell the tale. As she does this she takes the time to glance here and there to see if she notices anything amiss or the source of the voice. She will also give a mental command to her skeleton (the one that is not gaurding the cats) to point at all beings in the room one after another with between changes starting with the closest. She will note the location and who of each point to again try and find the source of the voice.
as the party settles in for the night; ...
a small mist suddenly forms around Grymble and many many arms grab him amidst Fey laughter and he is pulled out of the room into...somewhere; the room turns back to normal in no more than a couple seconds; only the smell of wildflowers is left and a diminuative little man in forest green doublet; yellow hose; bowler cap with a silver buckle in the middle; he has flaming red hair dashed with yellow; like maple leaves turn in Autumn.for those who notice; spot dc 25; sleep doesnt come easy as no where is really safe; are the arms coming for you?
in a very quiet voice; listen dc 22
...
Spot: 11 (1d20) + 1 (Mod) = 12.
Listen: 18 (1d20) + 1 (Mod) = 19.I am devoid of the situation.
When she is done I sit and pnder a moment before standing and bowing to the bird.
"Well lass, twer a grand tale, and ye have a nack fer the tellin' o' such things." I look around then, at my weary companions, some of which are already succumbing to slumber.
"I promised ye a tale in return, and so I shall speak ter ye, though many of the others be weary beyond listening I feel".
I move and sit closer to teh bird, and any others who would listen. My voice is firm, though not loud enough to disturb those sleeping.
"My Da was a priest of Moradin, much as meself. Indeed it were his own teachin' as led me to the All fathers works. However, he was a brewer of some note as well. Indeed, Grugn Lager had a name fer itself in the mountains of Clan Holdhammer, and it was a talent me father had a passion fer." My eyes begin to look to the middle distance, and gain the unfocused look of one who is remmbering details of long ago.
"There was another in the clan who could brew a mean stout himself. Kreckos Gleig were his name, a captain in the tunnel fighters, deep defense corps. His stout was dark and creamy, smooth on the tongue and strong on the pallete. Ye'd think he and me Da woulda had much ter be friends about, seein' as how they had so much in common. However more bitter enemies ye couldnae imagine. Their argument went back nigh on 60 years, when they both claimed the other had stolen a recipe for an ale they was brewin' to wet the anvils fer the tradin season. Fought every chance they got, though never enough ter be a danger to themselves or the clan. Twas a merchants rivalry, but strong"
I look around again, judging the mood of the motley crew gathered with me on this quest. When I'm sure those that are awake are listening I go on. My tone drops, becoming more sombre as I recount this next part.
"When me Clans Home hold were attacked three years gone, the enemy came up through the deep tunnels. Orcs o' the blood drencehd gauntlet they were, moving through the deep places with their eyes o' red and their yellow tusks filed fer killin'. When the alarms went up, me Da went to the deep tunels ter fight. He were a priest, but Moradins blessin's o' defense were needed as much as the hot steel and strong arms o' our tunnel fighters. The Orcs had taken three o' the main thorough fairs already by the time the real fightin' started, and me Da found himself with Kreckos' company o' fighters. There was naught ter be done at this stage yet organise those nonomabatants back into the high vaults and run a organised retreat so we could seal the tunnels. Kreckos crew were ther ones as volunteered ter hold em back."
A swell of pride enters my voice as I recount this last part, the honour of my clan evident in my voice.
"They held fer a week, those 50 dwarves. Hit and run tactics, collapsin' tunnels and leadin' the press o' the damnable greenskins along false runs and inter dead ends. Twer a marvel of tactical genius, and the centre o' it were me Da and Krekos himself. The two had put aside their rivallry in the face o' the threat to the clan. They were as one, the fire o' me fathers faith and the steel of Kreckos' blade knockin' the momentum from the forces of that demon spawn Lord Ubal."
I sigh then, coming towards the end of this tale, knowing the truth of where such things lead. "When the ghouls came into play for the enemy, all hope fer the rear guard were lost. The defense turned ter slaughter and they had ter collpase the tunnels behind em and seal the three Great Gates. The last through was me Da, and he carried the dead body o' Kreckos with him, pierced at the end by a warchiefs spear."
I look to those gathered with me one last time, and finish my tale with the following. "Two bitter rivals were able ter put aside their bickerin' and held up an army fer more than a week. Twas a marvel o' what combinin' the best o' yer talents can achieve. Imagine what could have been done if several such bickering folk were to co-operate. Why the gods themselves may take notice."
" I hope me own tale was to yer likin' Kalona, fer I enjoyed yer own immensley"
With that I bow low, and return to my mattress and gear, readying myself to sleep.
Kemnebi sits still for a few moments, the only movement his gloved hand as it strokes Hathor's fur. The moral of both tales is obviously not lost on the young mage. He looks dreamily around at the rest, looking as if he wants to say something, but instead stretches and yawns in a most feline manner.
"Thank you, both, for your tales. I would love to add one as well, but I fear I am too tired to recall any of the legends or tales I have read properly. And as I am not a tale-weaver, I would hate to ruin such wonderful recitations with a poor rendition." He says softly, still looking thoughtful.
"Goodnight All."
"Night Neb." He adds as a sleepy afterthought, curling up with a contented Hathor.
'Goodnight June,... Be safe!'
Kemnebi thinks 'aloud'. His worries cause his dreams to be troubled. At one point he swears that he sees Grymbol pulled screaming soundlessly from the room by hands from the shadows,...
Not hearing anything else from inside the room, Caerwyn quickly falls asleep, and waits for the new day to try to find out more information about the interesting group he has been listening to.
the skeleton points at everyone except Decidio, Aahz, and Namaste's Bat; does point at other familiars and pets.
The voice not sounding particularly threating will not throw Kalona off her tale.
However, she will begin moving around between the listeners using her body as well as her voice to tell the tale. As she does this she takes the time to glance here and there to see if she notices anything amiss or the source of the voice. She will also give a mental command to her skeleton (the one that is not gaurding the cats) to point at all beings in the room one after another with between changes starting with the closest. She will note the location and who of each point to again try and find the source of the voice.
That is fine; just remember your needed study/sleep time.
This is a so called save area; so will be a decent chance for a good nights sleep.
pretty much every race and political group uses their own calendar numbering system and various caledars; so not knowing the date expecially in these crazy times of chaos is not really a big deal; Dwarves internally use the dating system of who is king and the number of years he has been on the throne same as many humans do; but as dwarves live longer; is a bit more stable.
** spoiler omitted **...
Just a couple notes for your personal information.
Ubel is a human
Many Ork tribes have been enslaved by the greater Chaos races and have little or no choice in where and who they fight. In my game Orks are generally LE rather than the alignment expoused in the monster manual. Gnolls, ghouls, Ogre, and Ogrekin, Goblins, Giants; and the like are the main strength of the Chaos horde that has been plaguing the world the last decade; now of course; they are augmented by demon hordes.
** spoiler omitted **...
A the night falls and the blessing of Hypnos (Somnus) is chased errantly by various party members, deep dreams and visions set upon all like a plague; surly evidence of the local pantheon of dieties gone mad, how many share this dream; could it be the entire continent?
Vision and dreams are of the battle above; the raging conflict waged back and forth as described in the narrative with also airborne ships battle as some strange looking demon frigate engages three ghost ships high among the clouds. The titainic volleys of magic between the ships cause their defensed to flash and sometimes fail as various combatants are swept form the ship as well as from volleys of semi mundane weapons such as catapults and ballista. Though many of the various combatants can fly; they seem to stay aboard their ships; for the strange looking frigate's tactic seems to be to circle and pass by the three creatures from the Upper Planes who floating in the sky, for any who come to close to them from any of the ships is immediantly slain by arrow or spell, thus using Them to augment the Frigates firepower and lessening the dissadvantage of being outnumbered; it is apparant and uncanny that this ship commander seems to know just how far is far enough to not be destroyed; a lesson the undead commanders have yet to master.
On the ground a scene comes to focus, it is Lorm Dragonheart; having used his ability to dimenion door around the battle to great affect; steps through a door and is taken unaware by a Stunning Blow by the Master of North wind; three other figures emerge from the rubble; the Master of the East pummels Lorm with a dreadful flurry of blows; the Master of the South holds some type of spinning top which shatters and drains, killing <permanently> all magic from the area leaving the area devoid of any magic while with a foot does he kick the striped staff from Lorms hands. While the other monks rips the bird mask from his head like so much paper. The speed and effectiveness of the monks working in tantum is beyond belief, can it be that they even now are holding back their true might? The monks quickly shoves Lorm's unconscious body in a very old looking canvas sack full of spiritual symbology and truss him up; the Four Masters of the Elements; turn as a small horde of ratmen lead by a mystic approach. The Ratleader speaks "who are you to take our ally? answer or be consumed" One of the Masters answers "We are the Masters of the Temple of the Elements that this errant acolyte is a member as you can see by our similair tattooes; <he shows his arms> "Thus we return him to the Silver Skein Isles for Judgement, any who wish it will be heard if any defense for this Traitor can be found; come to the Temple; but hurry, and know that the Silver Skien Isles are not safe for any and the waters around it plauged with terrible monsters." With that the four monks pick up the canvas sack; the run Southeast as an incredible rate. While the rats are momentarily distracted watching the monks departure; a wave of undead silently plows into them and the battle is joined in thick; strangely; any undead who steps into the area that the monks were is immediantly killed as the magic that binds them unravels. A sneaking black figure of a mystical wight can be seen carefully sniffing the ground and avoiding the magic dead area; he gains the red and white stripped staff and hold it up in victory "Mine, Mine" shouts and laughs in maniacal laugher that only a truely insane, undead creature could evoke. He turns and begins laying waste to the rats and as the scene fades; a strange thing can be noted; a slightly glowing dwarven throwing axe is deeply inbedded into this wights back
The scene changes...a deep and wide pit can be seen; a giantishly large woman is chained in a deep pit; around her spin three Beholders torturing her with beams of various invocations; at her feet are three Elder Illithids chanting and casting magics; their tenticles wiggling to creepy effect. On the sides of the pit can be seen six rows cut into the earth; where 33 groups of three black robed and twisted acolyltes in mystic robes chant and sing from the Hymnal of Corruption. All of this seems to be directed human in a plain red robe; strangly he has spinning round him 6 stones of mystical power; looking closely you can see he is not a man at all; but a reptile; an ancient enemy; a dread snakeman. A orange robed snakeman and two abominations approach him; his gaze changes from the scene of the Torture of Gaia or is it Demeter; the vision is to indistinct to tell to that of the three approaching.
a gravely dry and passionless voice whispers "I do not sense the Seal"
The snakeman in the orange robe replies "A halfling stole it from us; from Me"
Thre red robed snake replies "you have failed" and turns his attention back toward the scene in the pit; the two abominations attack and horrifically consume the orange robes snakeman; not even waiting to kill him first.
Thus has Hypnos, Greek diety of Sleep, gifted or cursed all with knowlege, will it bring fear; anger, or perhaps cheers of joy; only will the embodiement of Cronus let us find out.
Weariness sets in of all the days combat; climbing and everything else; lids get heavy and unless there is any other needed activity; everyone rests; those needing to pray or study can do so this eve or in the "relative" morning; as time of day is not really noted down here.
Everyone needing to do so; please update your spell lists.
In the morning there will be water for those who wish to wash their face; the sound of those working in the hall and in other rooms and the click clack of wooden weapons and staves as well as the thunk thunk thunk of arrows can be heard; these sounds starting fairly early.
A young acolyte in green clothes and full chainmail enters the room and squats down; to says:
"Master Ronin invites you to dine with him for breakfast. I or another shall return in about an hour to lead you to the dining hall."
he bows his head and stands; turns and leaves very quietly.
Please post any action your characters would do before breakfast; thanks.
Having slept fitfully witht eh dreams of last night, I awake only when the acolyte shakes me gently.
Rolling form my bedding, I look round to try and determine the time of day. Deciding it is as close to morning as I am likely to find I prepare for my prayer rights to Moradin.
[To Kosan- In Dwarven]"Will ye join me in obeisance to our gods Lad? We have afore us a mighty battle, it would ease me own heart greatly ter know ye had offered yer prayers to our protectors this day, so yer soul iteslef would be gathered should we all fail in this endeavour"
The ritual itself is simple, the words spoken in ancient dwarven over the crossed pattern of my shield and mace. The shield to represent the anvil on which our race was forged, the rock at the heart of our planet itself and the protective spirit of Moradin. The mace represents the forge hammer of Moradin, used in the shaping of our souls from the magma of the deep, the spirit of defiance in the eye of chaos and in my case, the symbol of the erath itself of which I form a a particular affinity.
When it is done, I offer a tip of strng dwarven ale across both weapons from the small ritual flask I carry.
Feeling renewed in my vigor and faith, I arrise and don my full battle gear, ready for the days events. I will overlay this with teh satin and silk clothing that Ronin gifted me with on my arrival to this place.
Please make a percentile roll, thanks
Having slept fitfully witht eh dreams of last night, I awake only when the acolyte shakes me gently.
Rolling form my bedding, I look round to try and determine the time of day. Deciding it is as close to morning as I am likely to find I prepare for my prayer rights to Moradin.
[To Kosan- In Dwarven]"Will ye join me in obeisance to our gods Lad? We have afore us a mighty battle, it would ease me own heart greatly ter know ye had offered yer prayers to our protectors this day, so yer soul iteslef would be gathered should we all fail in this endeavour"
The ritual itself is simple, the words spoken in ancient dwarven over the crossed pattern of my shield and mace. The shield to represent the anvil on which our race was forged, the rock at the heart of our planet itself and the protective spirit of Moradin. The mace represents the forge hammer of Moradin, used in the shaping of our souls from the magma of the deep, the spirit of defiance in the eye of chaos and in my case, the symbol of the erath itself of which I form a a particular affinity.
When it is done, I offer a tip of strng dwarven ale across both weapons from the small ritual flask I carry.
Feeling renewed in my vigor and faith, I arrise and don my full battle gear, ready for the days events. I will overlay this with teh satin and silk clothing that Ronin gifted me with on my arrival to this place.
Being that the Cat Goddess and cats in general are very independant; nothing special besides that I know of at the moment; I can look into it and get back to you just for some added game color; but; as long as your not getting 4th level spells or higher; nothing other than the required prayer time. From what I remember; most Egyptian dieties are pretty big on cleanliness and always wearing a very clean garment be it a inner garment or a belt, sash or dress or whatever of their dieties chosen color; I remember that a character who followed Seker always had to do purification rituals and always have some spotless white garment on him.
"Mrwowr. Just, a little more sleep, master Tibot,..." Kemnebi mumbles, batting feebly at the hand gently shaking him awake.
His dreams had been troubled, and while he had physically rested, his mind was still tired from the images that it had been unable to stop seeing.
Without opening her eyes, Hathor gently raises a paw, and puts it firmly over Kemnebi's mouth. After a three count, he gasps for air, raising himself up,... and straight into a maelstrom of memories. Apparently, disturbing dreams were not all he had last night. HE blinks as he sees ghostly images dance before his eyes. MAges with staffs, conjurers with demon servants, invokers with wands, sorcerers with flaming hands,...
"Whoah,..." HE manages to mumble, and looks his familiar in the eyes.
"YEs,... yes! Of course, it's so simple! Why didn't I think of it before!?!" HE asks his familiar, digging into his magic pack and pulling out his mystic notebook. Sitting up cross-legged, and swiftly rubbing sleep from his eyes, he begins scribbling at a furious pace. HE soon settles into a steady but swift rhythm, tapping his chin, mumbling to Hathor, and scribbling in his notebook.
"It's so simple, a child could do it!" He is overheard muttering to Hathor. "Um,... IF the child had at least a basic understanding of the interrelationships between the oppositional and counterbalancing forces of various elemental planes, of course,..." HE mumbles,... and continues writing.
Having slept fitfully with ...
[To Kosan- In Dwarven]"Will ye join me in obeisance to our gods Lad? We have afore us a mighty battle, it would ease me own heart greatly ter know ye had offered yer prayers to our protectors this day, so yer soul iteslef would be gathered should we all fail in this endeavour" ...
To Erkholt in Dwarven: Aye I will join You. At the end I give a prayer to Dumathioun.
After waking from her sleep somewhat troubled but less than others she begins to change back into her armour (Assuming that it was cleaned and return) Smiling and giving a slight roll of her eyes at Kemnebi and Hathor's antics saying something along the lines of some things never change she sits herself down and begins to Prey.
all items have been cleaned and returned.
<hehe funny use of wrong word context Prey vs Pray, got a chuckle :>
After waking from her sleep somewhat troubled but less than others she begins to change back into her armour (Assuming that it was cleaned and return) Smiling and giving a slight roll of her eyes at Kemnebi and Hathor's antics saying something along the lines of some things never change she sits herself down and begins to Prey.
During prayer...
Erkholt and Kosan
for some reason during prayer you get an intuitive thought you both think (individually) is significant
White; Blue; Black/Red; Green
hehe 85 less and that would be a good roll; hehe. i do rolls like this to see if characters gain any extra something; in this case; insight; lot of players call this a Hard Side roll; as there is no good and bad; it is just how close your roll is to my roll.
Mr Dom; a Guild member brings you a message:
Join me now prior to breakfast; we have things to discuss
Master Clavious Paxious
<you know Master Clavious is very highly placed in the Guild and the Master of the Left in the Greek Area. His counterpart would be a Master of the Right; together they are the big bosses of this area, while Ronin is the Grandmaster in charge of the entire guild on all continents.>
Mr Dom; a Guild member brings you a message:
** spoiler omitted **
I quickly wash my face, gather my equipment, and after peeking into the room to take a look at the people I was listening to last night, head to the meeting with Master Clavious Paxious.
I am surprised to find one less person in the room than the voices would indicate, although there are two animals, a bird and a cat. Probably familiars, I think as I head out.
Kalona wakes up early and stretches her wings, she looks around for the voice she heard last night but doesnt see anyone so shrugs her shoulders and takes account of those folks here. She tries and to see if the skeleton can point at Decidio, Aahz or Namaste's bat again. Just curious.
As time wanders on and not being the one to sit and wait but not wanting to wake anyone up or disturb those that are doing their morning chores, she reaches in under her wing and pulls out a leather type ball more or less the size of a normal fist.
She positions the 3 skeletons in a triangle more or less equal distant from one another, out of the way from the majority if not everyone (cant remember how big this room is). And has them play catch with her controlling who and where to throw the ball.
The skeleton cannot see them; or...
the same diminuative green guy; you can tell with your sight that he is also invisible. He seems to be just finishing clandenstinely drinking many deep drinks from Kosans mug <and has for the last few hours> hearing the Drow begin to play; he whips out a pan flute and begins dancing a jig and playing
and yes; regardless of your dreams and comfort; everyone wakes refreshed and with vigorous energy and a gnawing hunger; though the weighty emotions of the coming day may begin to wear down on you.
as the Drow begins to play; the sound of haunting pan pipe music fills the room from no definable source; those with musical skill can roll to ascertain style. It is very well played and compliments Llvenocs playing very well.
As you begin to walk away; a strange thing happens; each step you take is like a heavy step on a very squeeky wooden floor; Eurp Eurp; will last until you leave the training hall and go through the door.
Mr Dom; a Guild member brings you a message:
** spoiler omitted **I quickly wash my face, gather my equipment, and after peeking into the room to take a look at the people I was listening to last night, head to the meeting with Master Clavious Paxious.
I am surprised to find one less person in the room than the voices would indicate, although there are two animals, a bird and a cat. Probably familiars, I think as I head out.
The music is not lost on Kalona who stops the skeletons from playing catch and whips out her drum to put a beat to the music
Drums; pipes, and strings all played very expertly; very nice; am curious a bit on what a raven looks like playing a drum hehe.
Anyway; the music is very selflessly played and bonds so well together; those hearing it cant help but stop and listen a bit and some perhaps tap their toes.
I check that all my stuff is packed right and that all party members are accounted for. Don my armor, Grab my Shield and weapon then leave the room. (Search check to ensure I have got everything where it should be 15 (1d20) + 9 (Mod) = 24.
Astinos arises, refreshed yet aware of the task ahead. Every fiber of his being can feel the impending battle and he will prepare.
He begins with a supplication to Athena, asking for her wisdom and guidance, to open his eyes and strengthen his arm this day.
When he is finished he reaches into his pack, retrieving a bottle of oil and a bowl he lays them forward as he places the disparate components of his armor in an ordered arrangement. Stripping to a breechcloth he begins his ritual, applying oil to his body, startimg with his feet and workimng his way up, ending with the liberal application of oil to his hair. He then slowly begins donning his armor, a powerful ritual of preparation for battle, both physical and spiritual in nature.
Dot
None of your things are disturbed though there is a bit of spilt beer around your mug that you dont remember (hehe) and a couple diminuative footprints in it. When examining the cup; inside you find a couple silver coins as perhaps payment of goods rendered.
All your companions are here except Thoronhen and Grymble.
I check that all my stuff is packed right and that all party members are accounted for. Don my armor, Grab my Shield and weapon then leave the room. (Search check to ensure I have got everything where it should be 15 (1d20) + 9 (Mod) = 24.
Dot?
Dot
Fox masked Mage
Bones has introduced you to Master Clavious and Mistress Darkhollow; ranking Guild members of the Left and Right hand. They tell you that they recieved Master Hava's Imperial request to insert you said matter of this group at the Emperor's request and will comply. This morning the Master and Mistress will introduce you and your guardian to a Guild Liason that will also join the group to replace their former Guild Liazon who has mysteriously fallen ill with some sleeping sickess that seems to have drained Con; Int and Wisdom.
Dot
in a medium sized meeting room <double doors to hall and ante room are open>, fairly lavishly decorated all in the style befitting the Greek dieties with Hades as dominate, acolytes and priests of Hades are depicted as going about their duties of carring for the dead and their internment and other things of that nature; various servants, dressed in simple black robes, are preparing the room for breakfast; in the Ante room there are several comforable chairs and couches; Master Clavious and the Mistress of the Left hand chat lightly with a Fox headed halfling whose garb makes it obvious that she is a magic user of some sort and an Imperial Mage of some authority. Standing next to her is another short figure in full plate mail; but who is wearing soft elven style boots and a cloak; which makes him fairly difficult to see as it shimmer and blends; he is well armed with short sword and shield; two handed sword (halfling size); mace and Xbow. He has a backpack, bed roll; and tent rolled up, several pouches and waterskins; and seems to be mostly watching everyone rather than listening to the conversation; he doesnt join in and speak unless spoken to; his sheild (spiked and with sharpened fighting edges) and armor have the Imperial sigil and the main device is a Silver Fox head. He seems to stand very very still, but has an aura of danger about him; like a rabid dog. he has no weapons drawn; but his armor is spiked and his gauntlets and boots are tipped with short stubby steel claws. All of his gear is masterwork quality.
Mr Dom enters the Ante Chamber.
in a quiet, benign; grandfatherly voice Master Clavious greets him.
"Ah there is my boy Dom; Dom; meet this charming Halfling and her fellow, she is and Imperial Citizen and will join you and the group who we are having breakfast with to aquire that nasty Seal and stop the end of the world by saving the Earth Goddess; sounds like a big job; better eat a hardy breakfast, but dont worry about that; I have seen that all that can be has been provided. Let us converse among ourselves quietly as we await the others, the Mistress and I wanted to meet with you to early, before the others get her. I warn you; they are and effective group but quite quarrelsome; not my style, but allowances must be made for egos befitting the stature of Heroes doing legendary, perhaps suicidal things, needful things to be sure, but ah...we all seek a better more profitable world yes."
in a quiet yet powerful voice the Mistress of the Left Hand says "Magus Slenderfoot, I have in my care a package from you from your family and Imperial Magus Hava. I have met Magus Hava many times, we are quiet well acquainted; his exploits are legendary. His writing on the Kirin Prophesy is quiet singular; if I recount correctly; he would have made his pilgrimage into the Celt area about now and be waiting to see if his ideas bore fruit. I suppose you would know quite a bit about that having been his student."
Silver Fox
gm: my bad; should have gotten you a copy of this; will do so soon as I can; anyway; Hava believes that the Kirin who gave this prophesy will return (would have returned today by your recollection of his predictions) and give further prophesy and guidance from the Upper Planes about what need be done to stabilize the shifting of planular boundries which is what Hava is investigating; he has presented much evidence to the Imperial Guild that several planes have shifted enough that they can no longer be accessed; some planes like Faire; which is closest to the home plane; is much more easily accessable from either side; and with the open gateway to the Abyss; the weight of that plane is shifting boundries which could have devistating results and perhaps enough tension to tear the fabric of our plane asunder) Hava believes the Lords of Law; as he calls them; will resist this by sending the Kirin; who he beleives is their agent; to guide us in how to save the world before planular tidal stresses tear the place apart. He believes that the loss of the Seals of the Elder Age into the hands of chaos is a Prime Catalyst of this cataclysm; thus sent you to find out if a seal was her and retrieve it- and on the side; he knows adventuring heroes in this day and age tend to find things that need fixing so do what you can to help.
The diminutive mage sketches a half bow to Dom after his introduction by Master Clavious: "Please to meet you, good sir. May our journey be successful and productive - two characteristics that are not necessarily always present together."
Extending her tiny right hand in greeting and motioning toward her face with the left, she adds, "My ... gift ... has earned me the sobriquet of 'Fox of Silver' or 'Silver Fox' from a number of my peers, but I am most often simply called 'Fox.' How would you prefer that I address you?"
Valegrim:
In response to the Mistress of the Left Hand, Fox says, "Milady, I am sure that you understand Master Hava's writing far better than I. I do, however, have a passing familiarity with the concepts of which he has written. I do believe you are correct regarding his travels -- today could be a significant day, both for our world and for validation of his theories."