Ildrim sips the Cerdyfgwîn, sighing inwardly at the luxurious familiarity. Caladrel smiles and raises his glass in salute as the two dîr relax on the platform, watching the sunshine filter through the forest canopy.

“Civilization has its benefits, no?”, says the emissary.

Ildrim gazes out over Iadara, contemplating how long it had been since he last spent time in the Kyonin capital. Firenze had its charms, but the rugged beauty of Tuskany could not compare to the tranquil majesty of the elven homeland.

The wizard’s contemplation is interrupted by the arrival of a messenger, one of the elegant servants employed by the emissary. She presents Ildrim with a small package and bows gracefully before gliding off. Caladrel politely excuses himself, leaving his guest to his privacy. The package contains a small, sealed envelope and a letter, written on papyrus in slightly awkward, but passable elven.

Magister Ildrim:

Peace, mercy and blessing of The Sarenrae be upon you.

A mutual friend will soon have need of your assistance. I pray that you will find the enclosed items adequate for your purpose. I trust that you will know when to act.

The Oracle of Katheer

Intrigued, the wizard carefully opens the small envelope, finding a small lock of black hair.