Pantheon - Mortal: In Search of Gods

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Boss Frost

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Original poster
It is a rainy day in Dosgear - no surprise there. It's been raining non-stop since the fervent stopped hearing the voices of the gods - every day for thirty years. Yet, the oceans have not risen, much to the relief of the people living in the seaside village... though other areas have become more dangerous as the rain continues, and it's said that lakes have swallowed entire villages. The mines of the kobolds have flooded, and sides of mountains have fallen upon towns below. Refugees from all over the continent have fled to Dosgear, causing the city to boom even greater.

Thankful in part to the ingenuity of Marie's many fervent followers, the city remains at the peak of technology - aqueducts carry water throughout the city, and many technological wonders make life easier. Waterproofing solvents have become a more popular alchemical item, and the need for it continues to grow, making certain merchants very rich at while others toil in misery. The sun itself has not been seen in twenty-odd years, and gloom decorates the city.

A melting pot of races and cultures, the skies and roofs are filled with dragons and athletic individuals, while the streets bustle with the activity of many races. Orcs can be found playing music and dancing in an effort to lift the spirit of the people - and many agree that their presence does indeed help. Everywhere, there are halfings... many single-minded in their search, some going to far as to delve into the sewers, gaining the aid of the kobolds as they delve into the world in search for their Sun. Even some previously 'heathen' races have found their way to the town, some learning worship and gaining friendships... others stalk the slums for victims. The elves, however, have not arrived - brooding in their wet jungles, waiting for their chance to strike.

While many towers stand throughout Dosgear, one stands out in particular - the gleaming mirrored spire known as the Glorious Tower. Once a place of great magical study, it has become abandoned - locked off by the government, citing a 'certainty of danger, heightened possibility of death' about the place. Guards... the toughest, most elite of them, patrol the place, including a good deal of combat mages and diviners, defending it. Many ignore it - many are sorrowed that the beautiful place must be cut off from the rest of the world.

However, a few individuals received a letter from the Vizier, Richter - asking them to meet him at the Glorious Tower. Unknown to many, the mysterious man has stood behind the rulership for years - since before the gods had left. It is known, however, that the man was a worshiper of Mammon, and VERY concerned with finance. The letter, however, did not mention WHEN the targets should come to the tower. A divine coincidence that they would all get there at the proper time, anyway...

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"Bark woof-yip!" The kobold stated with a wave to a young woman, tightening the straps of his messenger bag to his furred chest. The young woman nodded, "No, thank you!" With a nod and a smile, the kobold began to walk off. His job was finished for the day, and he had time to relax and contemplate... his tail wagged in excitement - this was the fastest he had ever finished for the day! He did pride himself on his speed - being able to know the city and see it from the rooftops helped as well.

Walking briskly to a nearby building, he quickly scampers up the side onto the roof, gazing about - his fur sticking in clumps to his body, he was quite soaked... though it didn't stop him from showing off a bit. "Yaar. Woof-woof yip grrr woof," he stated to himself, stretching with a smile at the concept. If only he would get the chance!

His bag, however, still had something in it. It had been in his bag since he had gotten it... reaching in instinctively, he found the letter in his hand. No address - simply his name written upon it.

"To a Believer:
Whatever your belief may be, I would like to inform you that you will have
a chance to prove your heart right - or wrong - before the works of the
entire world. I would like to meet you and the rest of the individuals who
got this letter out front of the Glorious Tower - where once divinely
gifted spellcasters learned their craft, far greater than we now can
achieve. I hope to see you in good health.
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-Highest Regards,
Vizier"

The kobold shifted uncomfortably on the pads of his feet. What if it was some sort of sick prank? Biting his lower lip, he thought about it a few times... then looked up through the gloom to stare at the Glorious Tower... a breeze came in it's direction, causing him to look away and shiver - the cold chilling him to the bone. Coincidence... still, it unnerved him, and he looked towards the tower once more.

"...Yip-yip bark." He states to himself in a confident tone, leaping off the building and allowing his aeromancy to 'lift' him, gliding to the next house - then, from there, leaping as far as he could... and rolling into a run as he hit the ground roughly, speeding towards the Glorious Tower, a zephyr in his wake.
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Dawn wandered about the streets it had been a long rainy day and nothing felt better to the young halfling. It reminded her of the stories of Soliel and how she loved to create rain to cool the hot islands where she had come from. She adjusted the pack that hung on her lower back and reached in, digging out the note that she had received. She wasn't even sure who this Vizier was, or why he wanted her but it seemed like he possessed knowledge about her Goddess and she wouldn't turn down any opportunity of information about Soliel. As she hiked along a narrow street leading towards the Glorious Tower she had to weave between the larger people's legs. It was always such a hassle for her to get places in this city, all of the tall ones rarely even noticed her around their legs, or assumed that she was a lost child.

With a sigh she squeezed past a couple of orcs talking amongst themselves about something musically and winded up in the large open area surrounding the Glorious Tower. It was far larger then she had thought, she hoped that she could at least get in the front door. As she stepped out into the square she squinted against the rain as she looked up, trying to make out the sun against the dark heavy clouds. She shook her head, wet hair smacking against her face and stepped down towards the front of the building, taking a glance at the kobold standing there with a curious expression on her face.

"Well that's strange, I wonder what he's here for...maybe he got a note too...how strange." Dawn said quietly to herself.
 
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Arc swooped through the air, landing roughly in front of the gates as the rain pelted his wings to prevent the skies from being a source of solace to him. The rain, this torrential flood, would quench his fires without thought. In a way, he shunned this rain for standing against his very gifts and beliefs. The air and the fire, those were the greatest blessings Slassarath gave to his people. Few were blessed as he was with fire, but most all could take to the air. The rain that drenched everything and everyone, however, made the skies hostile and forced fires to sputter out.

At the gates, Arc underwent a superficial check from the guards. They were essentially unconcerned with searching the dragonkin, they concealed no weapons because their weapons could not be concealed but nor could they be confiscated. The men seemed bored as they looked beneath his folded wings for daggers or something similar and probably wouldn't have noticed even if he did, the way that they checked. They gave him a curt hand motion and Arc wondered vaguely what they did when they found weapons. It wasn't, per say, illegal to have weapons in the city... to his knowledge. Shrugging off the curiosity, he bowed his head to them briefly and continued on his way. He was a bit too large to justify slinking through the streets, especially to the alarmed looks of people when he did so, which is why he almost instantly took once again to the inhospitable skies.

Arc had been instructed by his elders in how to find this tower but seeing the mirrored spire glittering near the center of the town, he couldn't help but be amused in how concerned they were with his ability to locate this tower. Had they really assumed him to be a dolt? Cautiously, he lowered himself to the ground at the foot of the tower. There were two others there, seemingly waiting. Was something happening here?
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Leaving the security of her beautiful tree house was difficult for Simina, but the letter seemed to be more important. To not be late, she was running swiftly and cautiously through the thicket of trees, her cloak lifting in the winds to reveal a frail, green skinned and scarred body. Once she leaped out of the forest, her boot covered feet landed in the dirt with a thud, yellow-green hair being blown from a pair of golden eyes that showed more mixed emotion than you'd expect to find from an Orc.

As she straightened up, she could spot civilization in the distance. She recalled visiting this town before during some days of wandering to see where work opportunities were. A thumb swiped at her pierced nose as she smirked and began imagining what all was going to happen once she arrived. This was an honour to her... She wished her parents were alive to see this letter! The depressing thought changed her wishful thinking to a stream of bad memories that made her eyes moist...

"Maybe now... I can make something of myself."

Mina enjoyed the life of a careless dreamer, but she couldn't be a forest dweller forever. She had talents she could offer to others as well as a knack for music. Perhaps, this opportunity would inspire a song about her beloved God that she could share with other Orc villages someday.

She continued her race back to town, slowing down the moment the gates came into view. Would they let her in? With the note in hand, she presented it to the guardsmen with her head down and her hood up, hoping they wouldn't want to look at her face. It wasn't because she was an Orc... It was because of how hideous she felt after that unfortunate day.

After she was admitted entrance, Mina walked briskly through the town, pulling off the act of a completely different person. Her face was stoic within the darkness of her hood and she hid her hands in the sleeves to draw no attention to the long, pointy nails.

There was a kobold there, as well as a halfling... Both peculiar creatures that had seen many of. The dragon, though... She'd dream about them often because she'd never seen one. Her excitement was contained as she studied them, only bowing her head which caused her quiver of arrows to make a shuffling noise. The bow paused so she could just look at her feet... She hoped the halfling would make no attempt to come closer and look up.
 
Blagoj received his own letter from the watch sergeant when he came off duty. The sergeant pulled him aside and admitted to having pulled it off his locker and read it out of curiosity, handing it to him, and then informed him that he'd be placed on detached duty for the duration - he knew how devout Minotauri were.

Blagoj had carefully refrained from informing the sergeant that devotion would have meant staying and doing his duty had the sergeant not detached him. Instead, he'd stowed his Guard tabard in his locker and started off for the Tower Plaza.

Arriving without incident, he stopped on the edge of the plaza. It was largely deserted - normally it would be packed with scholars, but the rain had driven them inside today. The wetness didn't bother the big Minotaur, of course. He'd endured worse during his apprenticeship, although his fellow Guardsmen told him that his slicked and matted fur made him look even more intimidating.

Taking a glance around him, he easily spotted the others who'd responded to their notes - a halfling, a dragon, a kobold and an orcish girl. Noting the girl's downcast gaze, he walked up next to her, gently setting one of his massive hands on her shoulder.

"Are you all right, miss?" he asked quietly in his rumbling contrabass.
 
Skidding to a halt in front of the (oddly empty) courtyard near the Glorious Tower, Yipwoof had waiting, arms folded over furred chest. He had expected others to come (that much was evident in the letter)... he was not aware he would be the first one there. Nor had he expected so many to come at the same time. Placing a palm over his heart, he would give a respectful bow to each, saving the deepest bow for the dragon who had shown up. His ears tipped upward with excitement, and he allowed the symbol dyed to his chest to show proudly, flexing his chest-muscles to make it more prominent.

He would offer a kind smile to each of the individuals present. "Woof-bark yip," he would ask, "Grr yip yip woof bark. Bark bark woof arrrou?" After this happy greeting, he would look back towards the orcish female, offering a pointy smile...

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"Oh. Good, most of you are here." The youthful voice spoke, from the direction of the doors of the Glorious Tower. It had not opened, nor made any sound - he had simply appeared there. The Vizier slowly walked down the stairs, inspecting each, "One or two missing, but that's just fine. I feel it rude to make you wait out here, when you could easily be speaking and finding out what it is I called you all here for."

He was a handsome man - about thirty years of age. Black hair lay uncombed on his head, passing down into his eyes. The scraggly makings of a goatee clear as day upon his fair face. He was not muscular, but he wore the robes of a wizard, and an arm-and-a-half length staff held loosely in his right hand - the staff was made of metal, and tipped with an emerald. His robes were also an emerald color, accented with gold. "As you know, I am Richter. The King's Vizier and the one who sent you your letters..." He turns to look at the doors, offering them a snap of his fingers - they quietly opened. "But please, come in. I have a warm meal ready if you haven't eaten, and it will be nice to get out of the rain, will it not?"

"Ah. Lords Blagoj and Arc, I would advise you to take care in watching your heads as you enter - as you are very tall, and it would be troublesome to have you hit your head." With that, the polite man waited outside for them to file in front of him into the tower.
 
Mina felt a might hand upon her shoulder, causing her to stiffen as she looked across the ground to a hoof that wasn't far from her. Immediately, she looked up to the face of the Minotaur, her eyes filled with amazement. That moment, she'd forgotten that she was hiding her injured looking face. Her lips twitched into a smile, one of her hands giving his own a gentle pat.

"Yes, my friend." she answered shyly. "Thank you for asking."

Quickly, she turned her face away and then made a small chuckle to the Kobold. Such a gentlemanly creature... She couldn't help but smile back at him. For some reason, she didn't feel afraid to show her face anymore. There was a variety of creatures here and surely, not all of them would misjudge her.

When the rather attractive looking man stepped towards them, she listened to him calmly but her heart was beating with excitement. She gave him a respectful bow as a greeting. She felt like she should let others walk in before her... Mina wasn't used to chivalry anyway because she as an Orc as well as a forest dweller. Until everyone else--or at least a few of them--entered, she stayed put.
 
As the caravan entered the city most of it's members offered quiet prayers to Mammon thanking him for an uneventful journey. But one figure broke off. Dressed in light forest garb with a small crossbow slung beside his travel pack, the gnome hurried down the road pointed at the great tower ignoring the suspicious or outright hostile looks many gave. Ears low and avoiding coming to close to anyone he dodged his way through the city both awed by the size of everything and keeping an eye on the sky, as every gnome always did, for dragons.

At the edge of the large square in which the tower was centered he stopped dead and yelped, easily picking out the tall winged, feared and hated form of one of the dragonkind. As all gnomes did on sighting suck a beast he best down and picked up a pebble in his and with hand picked up a small peddle, breathing onto it tree times he offered an mental prayer to Frustor, turned on the spot and threw the pebble back over his shoulder with a low growl. Never once did he suspect the letter to be anything other than a lure, and here were more people duped, even the noble and arrogant dragon. He would have to salute this Visier on that one.
 
From outside the courtyard there came a noise, soft at first, it grew into a thunderous roar, as if a company of knights were riding fast towards the tower. as the gates swung open, it was revealed that rather than a number of knights, a gigantic Destrier, midnight black, its eyes burning with blue balefires thundered through the gates, barely stopping as it slammed across the cobblestones, its rider making to dismount as it stopped. the heavyset figure was gigantic, and though swathed in thick grey robes a large stomach bulge and thick matted beard that flowed from the hood gave off a distinctly masculine vibe. "you summoned me, and so i come" the deep bass rumble of the ogre's voice sounded as he followed the others inside, his large horse ambling gently to stand by a large water fountain, clearly thirsty after a long ride.
 
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Arc had begun to move sinuously toward the door, his head tilting slightly to see a small rock fall harmlessly to the ground where he had been standing. The rain vexed Arc thoroughly and he was quite grateful to be able to enter the warmth and the dryness of the tower. Politely, despite every impulse darting through his brain to get inside and out of the wretched rain, Arc waited for the others present to proceed in before him.

The last girl, it seemed, was determined to sty outside. Arc inclined his neck toward the doorway, hoping to gesture her into entering before him. When she hesitated, he sighed a little bit. "Miss" he hazarded rasping, knowing his voice to be unsettling and harsh, "I would be mistaken in my station if you did not enter safely before I allowed myself to fall at ease" he watched her with unwavering silver irises, waiting patiently for her to go through the gaping portal. The rain pelted Arc's scales and he clenched his teeth to prevent lunging inside and out of the hateful water.
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Dawn looked to the others, smiling widely at the show of respect from the kobold. She had no clue what to think of such a strange creature but she had certainly encountered enough of them in her time in the city. Unfortunately she couldn't understand the thing in the least, she was tempted to call him a puppy but restrained herself. The others that surrounded her were a bit more intimidating, a dragon, a minotauri, and another tall woman amongst a few others. As Dawn was about to say something a voice came from the tower. She quickly turned to look to see the Vizier, or Richter as he was called apparently. She listened intently to his words and then stepped past him into the door that he had opened. A hot meal sounded nice but the rain did next to nothing to bother her.

"So I am assuming that we will be learning the reason you summoned us over dinner?" Dawn asked as she stepped past.
 
"Yes, of course." He smiles, "Having you all here and not telling you why would be terribly rude, would it not?" Vizier Richter laughed for a moment, waving his hands and letting everyone come inside before him. Looking up at the massive destrier and it's rider, he calls, "I'm afraid your mount will have to be kept outside. Please understand, this is holy ground as well as a magic academy, though I'm quite sure you already know that." He nods - most everyone knew that magic stemmed from the gods.

The inside of the building would have been beautiful, were it better kept. Dust covered a row of the god's statues, each larger than any of the entities that came through the front door. Sadly, the dust only looked properly placed on the statue of the earth god, Ghraun. The sad silence of the place was deafening... not even a wiff of the magic that normally would have presided in such a place. The statues themselves looked in various levels of sorrowful... or terrified.

Once everyone was inside, the door shut behind them... Richter had not followed. However, the man's voice could be heard in front of them, "Sad, isn't it?" Walking out of a hall in front of them, the completely dry man looked up at the statues. "...Also, quite disturbing, if you knew." He looks to each of them, "...That these statues only appeared here recently. No one carved them." He turned, his cape swishing slightly, "The dining hall is this way, please keep up, I will explain everything when everyone else gets here... if you are having second-thoughts, and I certainly hope you are not, now would be the time to back out... as you will not be able to, later." With that, he walked forward.

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Yipwoof shivered, fur standing on end as he passed by the statues. He could swear they were looking at him. "...Grrr." With the low growl, he shook himself out of it. Puffing out his chest, he strode forward... fear or no fear, he would answer the call. His paws were soon covered in a film of the white dust that puffed up when he stepped upon the ground, though he did not notice. He had the benefit of vision here, but... "...Yip woof grr yip yip?" He asked to the rest, staring up at the window. It was still raining outside, though no wind came in.

Then he remembered something, turning to look at the door. "Grr. Brow woof wip." Turning back to look towards Richter's form, he shakes his head, following quickly.
 
Dawn nearly jumped out of her skin as the door slammed behind them and the Vizier reappeared before them. She was sure there was some magic at work with that man, and a sneaking suspicion about him gnawed at the back of her mind, she wasn't completely sure she could trust him, but he seemed to know something about her missing goddess and she'd go to any lengths at all to find her again. As they proceeded through the antiquated looks of the tower they came upon the statues and as she came upon the figure of Soleil in what looked like a cross between horror and despair Dawn's heart nearly broke. Tears formed along her eyes as she ran up to the statue and bowed deeply, offering up prayers under her breath and she quickly regained her composure. She quickly stood and followed after the vizier, now she had no doubt in her mind that there was something sinister afoot and she, for one would not stand for it, especially if it involved such a distraught image of her goddess! It didn't take her long to sidle up next to the kobold, smiling softly to him, unsure if he trusted the vizier any more then she did.
 
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Arc's gaze passed over the statues one by one in turn as he studied them each with bated breath. He recognized some of them, from the idols of their followers, but others held an arcane beauty since they were seldom the deity of choice having no race of their own. Arc's roving eyes lingered briefly on the figure of a man with large wings and flowers adorning his hair whose dreamy expression seemed out of place. Looking away, he saw yet another, a goddess in flowing robes with a peculiarly detailed rendering of long, untamed hair framing her childish face. There were others he did not recognize and part of him yearned to know their names, to have this secret intimate knowledge of the statues. Realizing he had lost sight of what he was looking for, he quickly located Slassarath.

It was an eerie sight to see, the powerful dragon beneath with thick legs and a petulant expression that twined seamlessly with a slender legless dragon who looked exquisitely pained. Arc padded over as quietly as his steely claws would allow, seating himself before the statue and bowing his head deeply. The man who had shown him these statues was far less important despite all his mystery than the towering form of the dual Slassarath. The wings of the lower dragon seemed to cradle the form of the wingless one. Arc thought of himself then, his own body resembling that of the male Slassarath.

Arc wondered then if he was to take this teaching, to protect because he had the ability to protect. Was his voice unable to reach Slassarath until he had proven himself worthy, he felt a crushing weight fall onto his chest. He could not discern how he was to impart the teachings of Slassarath when the god himself had vanished before so much as a mandate had been given to his people. Had Slassarath deemed them simply unworthy?
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The dragon's chivalry made Mina smile, but she still insisted that he enter before her. Aside from the fact she felt more secure following some of them, she wanted to be respectful. One of her hands wrapped around the strap of her quiver before she took some steps forward, her head longing to push the hood from it. The rain made her cloak damp, causing it to feel heavy. While no one was looking, she just reached up with her hand and pulled the hood back, shaking her messy head of red hair.

As she walked, she took in the features of the statues, doing her best to plant their images in her mind. Her imagination wandered to how these must have gotten here or what meaning they had... An image of her asking them those very questions passed through her mind, her purple lips shaping into a smile; she resisted making a giggle along with it. With her bony fingers lacing with one another, she put her hands at her chin and made a bow, still smiling to herself. There was no reason for her to display so much grief... Her God showed her down a path of wonderfulness, allowing her to see the light in every situation; even if that light was fading.

A painful memory began to make her chest ache, tears moistening her eyes that made her smile look grim. Those nasty face eaters... Ripping apart her family and friends, even her beloved teacher that gave her usefulness to her clan. Before her tears could escape to her cheeks, she caught up to the rest of the crew with a skip in her step. She stopped directly behind the halfling and the kobold, her look becoming stoic the instant she was back to walking.
 
Valkiar returned the nod, removing his hood as he strode down the hall, until he stopped, and dropped to a knee before the Statue of the Grave Lord, though when his eyes rose to look upon the statue his face twisted into a mask of confusion, as the statue, though perfect in the appearance of the god of death Severdus Tharn, the concerned and slightly fearful look on his face was uncharacteristic, as was the large scythe he held in both hands.

Valkiar turned to their host, confusion still etched into his face
"what is all this?" he asked of the vizer.
 
Dosgear City, Kob-town
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Clack! Zeb'yulon snapped shut his medical pack and handed a swirling purple elixir to the worried-looking kobold female sitting nearby. "Your son should be feeling much better by tomorrow morning. Give him this when he wakes up. There there, boy," Zeb cooed, patting his furry patient on the head.

The kobold showed Zeb out of her humble underground dwelling, offering a pleased nasal snort and a bit of dried meat as a sign of her appreciation. The half-orc accepted the gift and offered a gentle smile in return. As he stepped out of the hole, though, an exasperated sigh escaped Zeb's lips as he felt the familiar patter of rain on his head and shoulders. Shielding his eyes with a pale green hand, he looked towards the great city, about ten minutes into the distance. He stepped into the coach that was waiting for him a few steps away, and instructed the driver to take him to the Glorious Tower at the center of Dosgear.

Brushing his wet, purple hair back from his face, Zeb stretched his arms and legs in the back seat of the covered coach, before finally pulling a carefully-folded note out of his pocket. As the cart rattled towards the center of town, Zeb carefully inspected the note and the paper it was written on, and read it over once again, though he had memorized its contents the moment he first saw it. The invitation from the Vizier... though he would be quite late to the meeting, and quite exhausted due to these emergency house-calls. What could that scheming Vizier want from me? How did he even hear about me? He knows I'm a believer... what does he know about the fate of the gods? Zeb closed his eyes and meditated on the powerful images in his mind of tranquil Sophie, Ghraun the Protector, jovial Con Brio, and a few others of the fabled Pantheon. They provided comfort to his mixed-species ancestors, whom he barely remembered, and inspiration to philosophers and scholars through the ages. Those were the fabled good days. Then they vanished, leaving Terra to shatter and crumble, families to be torn apart by war and self-destruction. Zeb was a disconnected soul in search of answers, and this meeting with the enigmatic Vizier may be a rare opportunity to find them.

Dosgear City, Glorious Tower
The covered carriage screeched to a halt in an empty square, before the enormous, but locked, main portal of the Glorious Tower. The pouring rain soaked Zeb's robes through to his skin as he introduced himself to the guards near the door, who first answered his queries by shaking their heads bureaucratically, citing his tardiness. He bargained with them earnestly, gesturing with his medical pack and explaining his profession and its unique demands. The guards looked at each other, and told him to wait a moment as one of them walked off around the back side of the circular tower. A whistle sounded from around the tower where the guard had gone, and Zeb was led to a tiny back entrance, apparently the sort of portal intended for use by servants and temple maidens, back when worship of Marie and the other human gods was still actively practiced in Dosgear.

Zeb found himself an ancient kitchen, cobwebs everywhere and in horrible disrepair. Getting his bearings, he finally spotted a faint flickering light through a doorway at the end of the musty room. As he ventured closer, the distant murmur of diverse voices guided him to his destination. Passing through another stone doorway into what was apparently a dining room, the rather damp half-orc stood awkwardly at one end of the chamber, robes soaking wet, medical pack in hand, as various beings of all shapes, races and sizes filed into the room at the other end, led by the wizened Vizier Richter.
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"The answers will be told in time, my friend." His hand soon reaches down into the pocket of his robes, pulling out a beautifully carved medallion... it was crafted of wood, and the 'string' of it seemed to be a vine... still living. Lovingly painted, the medallion showed the clear symbol of the goddess, Kokoro. Richter gazed at the medallion for a moment, gripping it to his heart as he looked up at the statue of the goddess... he placed the medallion around his neck, turning to covertly blink back his watery eyes.

Vizier Richter turns his head to greet Zeb'yulon with an attempt of a smile and a solemn nod. "Oh! I do hope you had no trouble getting in." His voice held no tremble or show of sorrow. "I was hoping everyone would be able to make it - I have a hunch our final guests may already be here, and will become aware of our conversation accordingly, so we shall move forward."

Leading the large group to a dimly lit commons room. With a wave of his staff, Richter lit the room, the dust quickly swirling into a corner of the room. He sighs, "Not completely clean, and I apologize for that. My magic has waned, as of late. I still can do a few parlor tricks and one or two of my moderately powerful spells, but I require my Foci to do so... I'm sure the rest of you who have magic have... felt the same."

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Unknowingly, Yipwoof touches the cloth guards upon his wrists. It takes a moment, but the kobold eventually nods in agreement.

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Vizier Richter catches the kobold's action, nodding with a soft smile. He moves towards the table, mumbling the words to a spell. It takes a full thirty seconds, but plates began appearing, and the aroma of food hit noses before the food actually appeared. Richter seemed to stumble a bit, the young man clutching to his staff in a strange caricature of an older man. He smiles apologetically at the party, before moving to the head of the table and sitting down with an exhausted sigh.

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Hesitating for a moment, Yipwoof turns to look at Dawn as if to ask what they should do. Finally, the furred man walks forward, pulling out a chair and turning back to look at her. "Woof yip-yip bark." With a nod, he waits there.
 
With short quick footsteps a small figure sped across the square, past the vast mount and carriage and skidded to a halt at the base of the tower. The tall ones had entered. It was not the letter, but rather curiosity the dove him to seek entrance. There had been no date or time on the letter and yet when he had arrived there had been a group entering, how many groups wee there and why lure them here at all? His fox-like nose smelt something was going on.

The walls were too smooth to climb but the crossbow was for more than just an unimaginative way to kill. Tying a line to a duel spike/hook he pulled back the string and set the trigger before taking careful aim at a high window bracing himself and pulling the trigger.

The window looked into a high ceillinged room that seemed to be on the ground floor, below him a massive statue momentarily went dark as his body blocked the small window before he dropped onto the god's shoulder. From his god's point of view he could see all the others, even the ones he was following.
 
Dawn was caught off guard by the other half-orc's entrance, he had just appeared it seemed from a different room, but according to the Vizier he was one of the guests. Besides the female half-orc nearby he was one of the few that Dawn had ever seen up close. In fact most of the beings gathered in the tower by the vizier were new to her, the islands only had halflings and the occasional human for trading, the rest of the races left the halflings alone mostly and they mostly left everyone else alone. With a sense of awe she looked back at the dragon, she was sure her jaw had dropped open but what other reaction would she have been expected to have?

As they moved into the dining room the kobold pulled out a chair for her in a very chivalrous manner. She bowed lightly, "Thank you." She smiled warmly at the furry creature. Without a second thought she jumped up onto the chair, realizing that everything was human height in the tower. With a grumble she sat down and attempted to scoot the chair towards the table, and when she finally managed she realized that if she were to sit her eyes were level with the edge of the table. Letting out a boisterous laugh, "Excuse me Vizier! Do you possibly have an old tome or something for me to sit upon so that I can see? Unless you'd prefer I stand on the chair for dinner but I think that would be quite rude..." Dawn gave a half smile.
 
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