Background

<@Narrator> After the Dragon of Tildruin was destroyed the original group split up. Several of the Gifts had been destroyed or damaged beyond repair, the only ones that remain are the elven-Gift-bow, the halfling yew wand and the Orc polarm (which has been quite burnt).

<@Narrator> One and a half years later and many things have changed...

<@Narrator> The damage to Tildruin has been repaired, the chamber had been excavated and explored. Markings were rumoured to have been found there, but this was dismissed by the Order of Cothin-Cal, a curious order, set up by several Wise Elves of A'lure, Faelnon and Shandor, Thor, Thinn and the others had joined, leaving the 'Quest' group behind.

<@Narrator> A large monument stands where the Dragon had first emerged, it depicts a member from each race (curiously there are two Elves, who bare an uncanny resemblance to Faelnon and Shandor, but they dismiss this), fighting against the dragon.

<@Narrator> This monument is in the centre of a brand new marketplace, littered with beautiful fountains of crystal clear water, and rows of wonderful flowers.

<@Narrator> First to buy a shop here was none other than Shandor and his 'wife' (although, they insist they will marry according to Elven Traditions... one day).

רשת Shandor stands outside his shop, leading against the wall between the grand window and the tall wooden door.

רשת Shandor looks at the dawn sky and yawns, 'No-one will be out yet to shop... may as well get back to work.'

רשת Shandor re-enters the shop.

<@Narrator> The shop is quite spacious, but rather dark. Two windows at the back of the shop let in warm golden light. The main part of the shop is relatively square, with a counter at one corner and several shelves lining the walls. Two tables are in the centre of the room with potion making equipment and enchanted items.

<@Narrator> At the back of the shop was a store area of such with plenty of items, a second 'counter' ran along the ground separating the shop and the store room. One of the panels folds up allowing access. Beyond that is a small door leading to the garden. The garden takes up all of the back yard and many beautiful plants are already in bloom.

<@Narrator> One curious addition is there, a small trap door in the corner of the storeroom, he insists that it is to a cellar, but people have their doubts.

רשת Shandor goes behind the counter and walks to a small desk, nothing spectacular, a candle-holder above and to the left of the writing area, a shelf running along the back with dozens of small draws, each labelled elegantly with various ingredient names.

רשת Shandor sits down on the simple chair and looks at the dark desk for a moment, it is ever-so-slightly sloped towards his feet, there is a well for ink, with a holder for a quill next to it, beside that is a small stand with a mortar and pestle and various other alchemy tools.

רשת Shandor opens the door labelled, 'Parchment' and removes a fresh piece.

רשת Shandor decides that, as ever, he can't stand working in the dark, so lights the candle.

רשת Shandor takes the quill and dips it in ink before beginning to write down ingredients for a new proposed potion.

<@Narrator> This process takes a few hours, but the end result is a small vial of a green-ish concoction.

רשת Shandor takes the vial and peers at it, it is nearly midday by now and the light levels in the shop had begun to climb, no customers yet today, however.

רשת Shandor remembered that Ariea headed out to the garden to work about an hour ago.

רשת Shandor takes the vial and prepares to drink it, he thinks, Perhaps I should get Ariea in here, so I don't explode or turn into a monster.

רשת Shandor shrugs, deciding not to trouble her, before wolfing down the liquid.

רשת Shandor cringes as the taste of it hits his tongue, 'Argh! Awful, bleh...' He suddenly stops complaining as his vision changes.

רשת Shandor waves his hands about and they come out red.

רשת Shandor moves to the store room and opens the trap door, it is pitch-black down there, so one cannot make out what it is. However, Shandor can see it clearly, even though it is tinted red, 'Outstanding! An infravision potion, this will be useful.'

רשת Shandor returns to his desk and fills in the potions new name on the parchment.

רשת Shandor takes the parchment, waits for the ink to dry, before taking the exact amount of ingredients from their shelves and placing it in the parchment, he wraps it up, ties it with a red ribbon and puts it in another, unlabeled, box, filled with scrolls of a similar nature.

רשת Ariea comes into the shop via the back door into the garden.

רשת Ariea sneaks up on Shandor and peaks over his shoulder asking, 'Have you been working all morning?'

רשת Shandor nods, slightly embarrassed.

רשת Ariea grins, 'Oh really Shandor, you should take a break from all this potion making. How about you and me find a nice luxury boat to go on and spend a few days... relaxing.'

רשת Shandor is instantly tempted, but does have a lot of work to do, but before he can say anything -

רשת Ariea smiles a cheeky smile, 'And we'll close up shop for a few days, no big deal.'

רשת Shandor is seriously tempted at this point, but is quickly given an escape plan when two customers come in, 'Oh look Ariea, we'd better help.' With that he skitters off to meet them.

רשת Ariea pouts quietly, 'I never get any holidays.'

רשת Shandor nods to the customer, 'Yes, a Trovocian pot... we have one in stock, a moment please.'

רשת Shandor moves into the storeroom.

רשת Ariea approaches the second customer, 'Yes, all purchasable scrolls are over there in that cabinet in the corner.'

רשת Shandor returns with the pot, 'Anything else?'

רשת Shandor listens to the customer's request, 'Ah, home-made potions? Yes, I have a selection, anything you are looking for in particular?' ... 'Right, a strength potion. I believe I have a couple of those in stock. The effects last for about three hours, but it varies from person to person.'

רשת Shandor goes behind the counter, at the end nearest the shop door there is a box for payment on a shelf, concealed by several pieces of wood. The entire counter is made of marble, and the shelf seems to end after the 'pay-box', but Shandor kneels down and whispers something to it. The marble slides out of the way revealing dozens, possibly hundreds, of potions in vials of varying colours. They appear to go in rows and, for the size of the counter, seem to hold an unnatural amount of potions.

רשת Shandor rubs his finger above the potions, they have a golden plate above each one, stating what it is. 'Ah, strength potion, here we are.' He takes out a small midnight-blue coloured vial from them all and hands it to the customer.

רשת Shandor looks at the items again, 'Trovocian pot and a strength potion comes to... thirty-five gold pieces.'

רשת Shandor is passed a small purple-velvet pouch of gold coins, of the correct number, and slips them into the 'pay-box', 'Thank you, please, come again.'

רשת Ariea takes her payment for two scrolls and puts them in the 'pay-box' before repeating Shandor's sentiment.

רשת Ariea has Shandor cornered behind the counter, 'Now, about this holiday...'

רשת Shandor quickly points out the window, 'Look, a couple of new stalls, I'd better take a look!' With that he hauls himself elegantly over the counter and flees out of the shop.

רשת Shandor goes to one of his favourite stalls, the weapon stall.

רשת Shandor runs his hand along the hilts of a selection of short swords while greetings the stall-owner

רשת Shandor picks up a long sword and flips it over in his hands, 'Fine craftsmanship, new delivery?' The stall-owner replies, 'Yes, got it in from that friend of yours... Thinn? Yesterday. Oh, that reminds me, he sent you what you asked for.'

<@Narrator> The stall-owner takes a weapon from beneath the stall, it is a beautiful blade indeed, hilt of pure gold, and shaped like a Dragon of sorts. The tip of the near-white blade splits into two prongs, both looking very deadly.

רשת Shandor takes it gratefully, 'He really can make them, can't he?' The stall-owner states, watching as Shandor swings it about to see how it handles, 'He sure can. Excellent... Thank you.'

רשת Shandor returns to the shop with his new sword.

רשת Shandor heads upstairs through a previously unseen stairwell and places the sword in an ornate box that seems built for it. The box is on a small mantle piece, above that hangs, proudly, the Elven-Gift-Bow, several scratches and one or two burn marks are the only signs that it has been in battle.

רשת Shandor turns to the shop-floor.

רשת Ariea rolls her eyes, 'You and your swords...'

רשת Shandor is feeling rather pleased with himself today, already a decent amount of money collected and a free sword from Thinn.

<@Narrator> A messenger, one from the other side of Tildruin, Shandor guessed, judging by his badge, bursts through the door, 'Master said that if I don't get this to you in under two minutes he'd have me be a toad and hippity-hop everywhere, I think I got here in under that.' He pants.

רשת Shandor notices he is holding a letter and takes it off the messenger, who bows and runs out of the shop.

רשת Shandor breaks the blood-red seal that is on it, in the shape of a dragon, he reads the first line and discovers it is in code, he quickly recognises the code as one the Order of Cothin-Cal uses and deciphers it. A face of gathering doom replaces his cheerful demeanour as he reads it, he quickly tears it up and casts it into the un-lit fireplace.

רשת Ariea looks worryingly at Shandor, 'What's wrong?'

רשת Shandor mumbles dismissively, while looking away, 'Oh, nothing. I have to... To go out to somewhere....... Yeah, I'll be back a little later.' With that he sped out the door again.

רשת Shandor returns to the shop an hour later.

רשת Ariea asks ,'What were you doing?'

רשת Shandor says, 'Nothing important.' He sighs and sits down, rubbing his temples.

<@Narrator> Two days later it is early morning.

רשת Shandor is feverously working on something.

<@Narrator> A wagon slowly pulls up beside the shop. It is composed of dark oak with a symbol in pale green carved into the side, it is the symbol of A'lure.

<@Narrator> A Tall dark-robed figure steps out of the wagon, a hood concealing his face, he enters the shop and takes a look around before removing the hood, revealing himself as Faelnon.

רשת Faelnon looks around the shop for a moment before turning to Shandor, who had stood up to greet his old friend, 'Hail, Shandor. You wished me here?'

רשת Shandor nods grimly, 'Yes, I have some bad information.'

רשת Faelnon waves his hand smiling, 'Bad news can wait until I've had some tea.

רשת Faelnon crosses to the storeroom and begins making some herbal tea.

רשת Shandor sighs impatiently.

רשת Faelnon returns with a hot mug of tea.

רשת Faelnon takes a sip and asks, 'So, what is it?'

רשת Shandor sighs dramatically-

רשת Faelnon comments, 'I really wish you would stop doing that.'

רשת Shandor sighs purposely again and states simply, 'It has been stolen.'

רשת Faelnon says, 'It? Is this a guessing game?'

רשת Shandor rolls his eyes and states dramatically, 'It, you know? It-that-came-from-that-which-shalt-not-be-named.'

רשת Faelnon nods, 'Ah yes, the dragon.' He lets the word settle for a few seconds before he lets go off the mug of tea, 'It?! It has been stolen?!' The mug of scolding hot tea smashes against the floor, scattering its content over the shop floor.

רשת Shandor nods, 'Yes, I don't know who stole it. We have to face the possibility that someone in the Order of Cothin-Cal took it.'

רשת Faelnon waves his hand dismissively, 'Impossible, the Order of Cothin-Cal is composed of you, me, Ariea, Thor and the others and three Wise Elves.'

רשת Shandor nods.

רשת Faelnon sighs and nods, 'It is possible that one of the Wise Elves have been corrupted.'

רשת Shandor says, 'Only them? I notice you don't put the blame at any of us.'

רשת Faelnon looks at Shandor, 'Are you serious? If we assume it could be one of the others it could be any of us. It could be me. Or you.'

רשת Shandor says, 'Are you serious, now? Me? You don't believe that, or maybe you do.'

רשת Faelnon says, 'You've gone 'Evil' before.'

רשת Shandor rolls his eyes, 'One bad possession and I'm Evil for life with you? If I had stolen it, why would I have told you? Why not just take It and...'

רשת Faelnon sighs, 'True.'

<@Narrator> one of the Wise Elves has been corrupted, you know the lure of what It can do, can empower.'

<@Narrator> Better line

רשת Faelnon says, 'You rally Mihwen and Dytalorien, send Lestat to Enox's Mages' Tower, hopefully he can lend a hand. I will head to the Order of Cothin-Cal and call a meeting that should unite Thor and the others.'

רשת Ariea sighs, 'And I'll just stay here and look after the shop...'

רשת Shandor pats Ariea on the shoulder and grins, 'That's more like it.'

רשת Faelnon climbs onto the wagon and disappears.

רשת Shandor goes to find his horse, but not before collecting his weapons.

רשת Ariea sighs again.

<@Narrator> Faelnon rides to A'lure and goes to a building high in the trees, while reaching there he passes a marble platform with a marble alter of sorts, he dismissed it as just another alter, but he hadn't seen it before.

<@Narrator> The Order of Cothin-Cal building was exceptionally large for where it was located, near the very top of several trees. It seemed to be supported by magic as it sported a generously portioned courtyard of wood leading to a stone structure in the centre. The top of which was a alter and meeting place of the Order of Cothin-Cal.

רשת Faelnon enters the building, it is amazingly bright, considering there are no windows.

רשת Faelnon moves to a small desk with an equally small elf sitting behind it.

<@Narrator> 'Why hello master Faelnon, the others are waiting for you upstairs.'

רשת Faelnon nods, 'Thank you.' He moves to a small door and gently pushes it open, revealing a large marble staircase.

רשת Faelnon moves up the staircase until it gets bright than what it had been, Faelnon looks up and sees the sky through a square hole in the ceiling where the stairs and the roof connected.

רשת Faelnon climbs onto the roof.

רשת Faelnon looks around

<@Narrator> There is a large oval table in the centre, to one end a few steps lead up to an alter with golden decorations.

רשת Faelnon nears the table.

<@Narrator> Around the table sit the members of the order, save Shandor and Ariea.

<@Narrator> Each member sits on a grand chair, with a large back. Near the top of this back, carved in gold, was the name of the member who sits there.

<@Narrator> The first chair holds a dwarf with dark brown hair and a large brown beard with only the faintest hints of grey. He wears silver plate-mail armour with golden boots. His axe is adorned with gems and he has a small-ish, but powerful looking, hammer tucked in his belt.

<@Narrator> This dwarf is Thor.

<@Narrator> Next is another dwarf, the eyes, hair and body-shape are quite similar to Thor's, he has a claymore on the table and whistles an enchanting tune. Thinn is this dwarf's name.

<@Narrator> Next to Thinn is a much younger dwarf with slightly lighter hair and a smaller beard. He has two axes crossed on the table. This is Totil, Thinn's son.

<@Narrator> Next to the final dwarf is the first Elf. He is Foilae, he is quite elderly, but has a kind face. A pair of old, but elegant glasses rest on his face. His eyes twinkle with knowledge. He wears a pale green robe, he carries no weapons.

<@Narrator> Next to Foilae is Nomyn, who, at this present time, can barely see over the table. He carries no weapons and is dressed plainly.

<@Narrator> Three Wise Elves follow Nomyn, they are dressed in ceremonial robes, having just come from the morning service.

<@Narrator> Two chairs lay empty, Shandor and Ariea are written on them. The final chair is reserved for Faelnon, he bows in greetings and sits on the chair.

רשת Faelnon looks at the centre of the table, embedded in the table is an emblem symbolising the Order of Cothin-Cal

רשת Faelnon notes that, surrounding the emblem, are fragments of the remaining Gifts, a cracked gauntlet from the Dwarven Gift set, a torn patch of golden material, from the Elven robe.

רשת Faelnon begins, 'I trust you have been informed why I called this?'

<@Narrator> The Order nods in unison.

<@Narrator> The meeting of the Order goes on for several hours. Meanwhile, Shandor has rallied together most of the original group and is returning them to Tildruin.

רשת Faelnon bows to the Order members as they stand, 'Shandor should be back at Tildruin with any luck, so we better hurry to get there.

רשת Faelnon leaves first, followed by Thor, Thinn, Totil and Foilae.

<@Narrator> One of the Wise Elves calls after, 'The Order will do its best to help you.'

רשת Faelnon reaches his horse, which now has several others next to it, for the others.

רשת Faelnon hops on and takes off towards Tildruin,

<@Narrator> Several days later and Faelnon arrives at Tildruin where the group have been assembled outside Shandor's shop.

רשת Faelnon 's horse canters up to the group, 'It is good to see you all again, now we will journey together again, sadly, in an unpleasant situation.’