|Prophet of Jubb|
The Prophet of Jubb waited impatiently for the familiar mage to make her morning appearance. The fledgling wizardess was conveniently punctual and would enthusiastically fulfill his request.
Insanity etched the Prophet’s dark features as he scanned his environment of fine gardens and willow trees with malevolent intent. Benches and tables, often used for games of chess were occupied despite the early cold hour. Quietly almost in-perceptively the Prophet of Jubb bespoke the truespeach fundamentally changing the tapestry of reality within his regard. To the unfortunate individual at the table to whom the mad Prophet spoke; today would be the unluckiest day of their lives.
Nevertheless he did not come to the Black Crown to wrack spontaneous misfortune on random people; today he was here to attempt to obtain a critical component to make contact with Jubb...
Callran Willowand is a young crafty half-elf but lacking in the experience her intelligence might otherwise
|Greya of the Cöos|
The widely known sage and oracle occupied a hut somewhere in the Fox Run. The hut itself is remarkably difficult to find, except by those willing to pay her price. The crone looked up from the seven cards placed deliberately on the table.
“You will meet two men this day whereby I see two possible fates for you child,” Greya of the Cöos had said that morning. Callran loathed being talked to as a child but suffered the comment to gain a better understanding of her life course. It is what she paid for. Greya was a bitch but a bitch with the sight nonetheless.
“Each road augurs sin,” she continued cryptically. “One course will ignite a red passion and a burning lust within you; the other will be a darkness that will fill every corner of your being with righteous wrath.” ...
Armed with this portentous information Callran equipped herself defensively and was on time for work. As the Black Crown came into view, like a colossal castle chess piece in the middle of the World Disk, Callran encountered the first path as seen by Greya.
After a brief introduction and conversation with an unsteady man about the destruction wrought after the Solstice the man said, “I am very interested in obtaining Scraphite. It will enable me to consult with the my... oracle to whom I am dedicated to.” The dark figure was fretful, almost panicked. Having just come from an oracle herself, Callran deeply sympathized with him.
“I was hoping your office could assist me, perhaps there is something I can provide.” The man said in a giddy tone. This man is deliriously unstable Callran thought, but when he spoke that last phrase her mind instantly thought of her project at work and the encroaching deadline. It was the first time she had even thought of the magical rod in days.
“As a matter of fact I am researching for a new metamagic rod and lack the ideal material component to infuse into its creation. I can use others types but I believe this creation requires something unique and rare.”
The Prophet of Jubb had the answer for her...
Arriving at her desk in an unremarkable, unnoticed cubical Callran sat looking at the message delivered via a small black mouse. Disappointment covered her like a shroud. The message said for her to serve a summons firstthing that morning; she would not be logging any hours on her rod today.
An hour later, Callran Willowand stood before what was the second path as seen by Greya. The half-red dragon before her was handsome and fair spoken with an enthusiasm that ignited her deepest passions. She lusted for him both physically and for what the future held for her because of what she needed... the perfect material component for her Burning Metamagic rod was a scale from a red dragon wizard.