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... ------------ "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. -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.