A man who looks like a sergeant of the guard standing nearby gives a nod to the clerk.  The clerk does no more than give a cursory check to the papers they received on entering the gate.  He smiles tersely, stamps both the documents, and hands them back.  There's a slight smell of something herbal from him, as though he uses liniment, or a particularly unusual manner of pomade.  "Go right on in, your interview will take place in the receiving hall."  They've seen several who didn't get even the nod, and those men were given a different stamp and turned away.  Unhappy muttering reaches their ears from the various mercenaries, sell-swords, and hedge magicians populating the line.<br/><br/>***<br/><br/>The receiving hall is an arch-ceilinged room with high, barred windows along a spiral stair that winds up the curved back wall.  At a stone table in the middle are seated two persons - a short, dark-haired woman in leather armor, and a man with a mustache and fine accoutrements; he wears chain mail and a longsword.  The man shuffles papers disinterestedly, but watches your interest with a keen gaze.  The woman takes note of you and matches you to some part of a scroll.  When she speaks, her voice is modulated - not bored, neither particularly curious.  "I am Terrian, the Tower's acting administratrix.  This is Barnabas, captain of the Fist of Korrok.  We're going to be interviewing you both."  In the back, a silent blonde woman in a long flowing robe observes the proceedings and writes on a scrap of parchment.<br/><br/>The interview itself is rather long, and once the two establish their credentials is relaxed and chatty.  Barnabas asks for some of their more significant exploits, and what they might have done differently if they had them to do over again.  Terrian tosses out a trio of padlocks attached to an iron ring, and asks if either of them can pick them.  Barnabas asks them how they'd deal with a few specific tactical problems - a dozen orcs around a camp fire, guarding a prisoner who needed to be rescued.  A fight against a magician with two Ogre bodyguards.  How best to lay siege to a forty-foot square stone tower occupied by a mixed group of archers and pikemen, given a mixed group of a half-dozen or so assorted adventurers of approximately their own degree of attainment.  Barnabas' topical wandering is frequently brought back on track by Terrian's insistence on some kind of structure, and she asks to see forms and stances from both of them.  Barnabas judges them both to be adequately skilled, Hadrian perhaps close to exceptionally so.   At some point in the interview, the silent blonde in the back carried out her scrap of writing and returned without it.  It becomes obvious that no one else stayed in the interview room even a fraction as long as they have, and that the other applicants have most likely been sent away.<br/><br/>***<br/><br/>In the early morning hours, there is a knock on the door of the temple of Tlazolet.  A quiet figure in robes delivers a letter addressed to the reigning priestess there.  It is unmistakably a royal missive, written in silver script on black paper, and sealed with a yellow pentacle.<br/><br/><em>Priestess,<br/><br/>There is commencing a certain royal initiative which I believe to be of interest to the civil, secular, and also parochial leaders of the community.  As the leader of one of the larger unofficial temples in Breezeport, your input is welcome and to a degree expected in this particular matter.  Forgive my circumspection as to the specifics.  <br/><br/>You are invited to dine at the Shining Tower three days hence, on the night of the full moon.  Please arrive at moonrise.  Your bodyguards or other servitors will be welcome to dine in the Guardhouse while our business is conducted.<br/><br/>Signed,<br/>Korrok</em><br/><br/><br/>