A sad note among tense times...

[Rowana]

....Samantha Clerin passed away this last week in one of the work rooms on the Temple grounds in Spellgard. Her body was discovered by her granddaughter when she was arriving to delver afternoon tea. The older woman was in the midst of her works when her heart apparently gave out.

... Her age wasn't known precisely but her work in the temple began over seventy years ago and she contributed a great deal to the Lucindite community.

... In accordance to her wishes her body has been dealt with and no funeral has been arranged. It is apparent that she seemed to know her end was coming as a good many arrangements had already been made.

....Rumor in Spellgard is her work room had to be locked down until the appropriate faithful could be found to dismantle the spells left at work at the time.

[Dorganath]

Upon hearing the news, Connor finishes whatever immediate task he is working on and excuses himself, not waiting for acknowledgment or consent.

A short time later, a hooded figure appears atop a sand dune in the Spirit Dunes, a few miles from Spellgard.  He sends his hand into a pocket of his long coat and withdraws a single dart.  He holds it in the palm of his hand for a few moments, his arm outstretched a bit so the wind can flow through the dart's fins.  At last, in a swirl of bright magic, dart vanishes from his hand, never to reappear anywhere. The man lowers his hand and speaks quietly to the desert wind.

"Well played, Sam", he says, letting his voice float away in the air.

A few moments later, the man vanishes again, and the footprints where he once stood are soon consumed by the shifting sands.

[Alatriel]

*Word reaches Alatriel's ear in the corner of the world she currently exists.  She looks over at her daughter and a faint smile touches her lips briefly.  Bending down to the earth, Alatriel whispers a soft prayer to a god she has not spoken to in countless years, a prayer of appreciation and respect for a kindness done, and one for the passing of a spirit back into the unknown beyond death, back to the spirit of the world.  She takes a handful of dirt and presses her fist to her head with her eyes closed, then opens them and lets the wind take the grains of soil from her hand*

Anirilln aey oem sa wilyviranam, amelaa ela.

[Pibemanden]

*Storold sits in hi study going through random bits of news he gathers from his travels to Center and other places in the world and sighs to himself*

One less reason to go back...