<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Event</span></div><br/><br/><div align="center">Arrival At Greyhawk</div><br/><br/><div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/4/4a/95cfdd_af6d8dbe534341af9efccc73735b915b~mv2.jpg/800px-95cfdd_af6d8dbe534341af9efccc73735b915b~mv2.jpg)</div><br/><br/><hr/><br/><div align="center">Prologue</div><br/><br/>“…Her hand stretched forth, and the Wheels of Fate were set to motion…”   --<em>The Book Of Istus</em><br/><br/><strong>Time: </strong>Patchwall, 5, 577 CY, morning<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Cannex Rea found himself nearly running down the long hallway; something very unlike the High Priest of Celestian.  But the situation demanded it.  His mission was too important to delegate to a lesser priest.<br/><br/>The walls of the wide hall were of a dense, dark gray, closely-set stone; the handiwork of long-dead dwarven stonemasons.  It had been their gift to Zagyg, the Mad Archmage – the man who had built this city.<br/><br/>Greyhawk.  Gem of the Flanaess.  Center of both civilization and magic.<br/><br/>And yet, at this moment his city, a city of both great prosperity and power, seemed but a trifling.  Cannex was not afraid for his city, but for… his world.<br/><br/>He hurried faster.<br/><br/>It had been too long since he had visited the study of the man he was going to visit.  So many times had they sat, engaged in deep, scholarly discussions, often for days at a time.  Here, deep within the Mage’s Guild, he almost felt as if he had made a mistake in entering the clergy.  The essence of arcane power suffused the entire edifice.  It was as great a drug as religious fervor, Cannex Rea realized, wiping sweat from his short black hair.  He shivered, not from the modest, controlled temperature of the hall.<br/><br/>He reached the archway of smooth black stone, and stepped through without hesitation.  One moment, all he saw was blackness through the archway; the next he was within a large, tidy room, lined with bookshelves of exotic wood and even more exotic tomes.  A huge, fantastic carpet of incredibly fine knotting covered most of the black stone floor.  Within the center of the room stood a round brass table, inlaid with many runes of antiquated origin; probably elvish or dwarven, Cannex could not be certain.  Between the table and the far wall, facing away from the High Patriarch of Celestian, was a tall, unstooped man of obviously many years.  His well-kept hair and trimmed beard were as white as the highest peaks of the Crystalmists, and he showed no signs of balding.  Clothed in sky blue and dark grey robes, with a silvery belt studded with shining rubies, the man appeared more king than sage.  And yet sage he was.<br/><br/>“Aldebranche.”<br/><br/>At the sound of the High Patriarch’s steady yet urgent voice, the tall man closed the heavy book he was perusing, and turned.  Eyes of lightest brown, almost amber, gazed upon a long-dear friend and ally.<br/><br/>“Cannex.”  Studying his friend, he recognized the insistence in his bearing.  “You have learned more?”<br/><br/>An expression near akin to madness swept across the priest’s face, then flashed to calm.  “I wonder if I know too much, my friend.  And yet am I not the High Patriarch, and servitor of my god and my people?”<br/><br/>Aldebranche merely nodded.<br/><br/>Cannex continued.  “It is done.  My auguries of highest order have been answered.  Bless the spirit of my lord Celestian, may he ever wander the spheres of eternity!  But, too, the answers of gods are as two-edged as a warrior’s blade.”<br/><br/>Aldebranche’s eyebrows arched.  “You were answered directly?  That in itself is a sign…”<br/><br/>“Aye, and one that may bode both ill or well.  Aldebranche, my greatest friend, my brother in knowledge and wisdom… it is done.  He has told me.  As only he can, my lord has wandered both far and wide, to answer our plea…”<br/><br/>A look of great consternation passed over Aldebranche’s elderly features.  “Grave it must be, for a god to seek so diligently an answer to his servant’s questions…”<br/><br/>“It is Nedelharn… and his creation…”  The High Patriarch said no more.<br/><br/>Now a look of shock etched the sage’s face, which came near to his beard in coloration.  “The mithril golem?  This means… do you realize?  And yet the golem is only the tool, the key!  Do you see what they truly seek?”<br/><br/>It was Cannex who looked puzzled.  “Is not their seeking of Nedelharn’s creation enough?”<br/><br/>It was incredible… even for a venerable sage and mage such as Aldebranche, it was almost too much to grasp.  “Nay, Cannex, it is not enough.  It is never enough for the powers of darkness.  There is much more they can obtain with the servant of Nedelharn…”<br/><br/>“We must needs contact the Circle…”<br/><br/>The sage nodded.  “Aye.  Aye, indeed!  This will require much more than their involvement, though…”<br/><br/>The High Patriarch looked puzzled.  “Who could be necessary beyond the Circle of Eight?”<br/><br/>It was then that Aldebranche smiled, his arresting eyes flashing with mystery.  “You, of all people, Cannex, you should be aware of what I speak.  It is prophecy.  It has been spoken of.  Have you not read the teachings of other gods?”<br/><br/>Cannex paused.  What was the sage speaking of?  “I have perused some of the holy words of other faiths…”<br/><br/>“What of Istus, the Mistress of Fate?”<br/><br/>Cannex paused again, longer, and more grave.  When he finally looked up, his face was a mixture of fear and hope.  The Chosen…?”<br/><br/>Aldebranche nodded.  “Yes, indeed, if my studies have given me any knowledge worth remembering.  The Chosen.”  He sighed heavily, and closed his eyes, whispering words too soft for Cannex to hear.  “Is it so close?  And I am not yet ready…”<br/><br/>The High Patriarch finally collected himself, now resembling the supreme servant of the god of the stars.  “I understand what my duties are,” he said calmly, “but we must speak, we and the Circle, and perhaps more, if we are to act in concert…”<br/><br/>Aldebranche snapped out of his reverie.  “Yes, we must coordinate.  It is imperative.  Many will be needed, though few will succeed.  But it is the way of the fates.”<br/><br/>“How will we find those who are needed?”<br/><br/>Aldebranche smiled.  “I suspect your god will aid us with that…”<br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>Time: </strong>Patchwall, 9, 577 CY, morning<br/><strong>Location: </strong>Greyhawk City, the Highway Gate<br/><strong>Tagging: </strong>all<br/><strong>Content Warning: </strong>none<br/><br/><hr/><br/>It was two days' journey to the north from Two Ford; however, the group of friends and new acquaintances arrived at the Highway gate to the city an hour after dawn without any setback.  The morning traffic of merchant caravans, farm wagons filled with produce, and countless foot travelers moved forward slowly through the gate.  Soldiers of the City Watch examine those passing through, requiring all visitors to sign in.  Taavia, Pansy, and Yesqwyn, being city residents, did not have to sign, but the others did so.<br/><br/>As they did, two strangers approached them from inside the city gate.  The first was a tall and rather thin human woman, with braided hair of palest yellow, bedecked in mage's robes of pale green and dark blue.  She appeared in her late twenties, but by the way she pressed her lips tightly together, she appeared to be pressed for time.  The second was a male gnome, also young for his kind, but likely in his fifties.  His black hair was loose and free, and he sported a well-trimmed beard with curled mustache.  He too wore mage's robes, but his were mustard yellow and bright pink, in checks.  "Welcome," he intoned, waving a hand that appeared clever and unworn by manual labor.  "We greet you oon behalf of the Mage's Guild of Greyhawk, and invite you to accompany us into the city, on behalf of the esteemed Archmage Aldebranche, Master of the Guild.  I am Kivvelor Landraste...and this is my colleague Jevera the Hale."<br/><br/>The woman attempted a smile, but managed a half-frown.  "He...requests...your presence.  He told me...to state this: 'What you carry is of great interest to us, and we feel we may be able to assist you in shedding light on the...subject.  You are welcome here.'  He...extends his greetings...and...protection."<br/><br/>The gnome bowed, somewhat grandly, brushing the ends of his moustache.  "Will you accompany us?  We can show you the way to the Guild."