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Owen awoke from his divination trance suddenly. Something did not sit well with that vision. Rising he put on his outer robes and sent a novice to summon Nest to his office. He did not have to wait long before his student arrived. She entered along with Wraith floating behind her. She didn’t speak but entered and poured herself some tea before taking a chair.

Owen took a sip of his own savoring it just a bit before starting. “I’ve had a vision that is not promising. In it the power of the Nimbus seems to be waining and death becomes rampant in Gladius. Magic to heal no longer works and it seems that slowly Gladius consumes itself. The vision doesn’t say how or where or what, but the end result seems to be a warning.”

Nest pondered for a few moments, sipping some of her tea before responding. “A scout party? But to where? With no leads we can’t even be sure what they will find or how they will find it. Even if they do find it, will they succeed?”

Owen watched Nest and knew that she understood the situation clearly. They needed more information. The Arcane Order’s ranks had dwindled since the repelling of Denth’s summoners.
Aside from Nest and himself, there were only a handful of mages that still filled the Order’s ranks. In the aftermath Denth both sides had taken to dragging opposite members outside of Gladius and slaying them. Owen was made aware of some of these things after the fact as he would have condoned the actions. He did not however miss the trouble that was removed by some of these ‘disappearances’. Owen had met with Kraegin and a very tense peace was restored and the focus returned the arena of Gladius as the guilds seemed to show less interest in the Nimbus and pulled up shop.

The Arcane Order now only held but an outpost in Gladius having relocated to Promethia. If Owen had a guess to make he suspected the Celestial Forces and Habinari had moved more underground in their war. With Denth opening up the gates of Hell to let most anything come through the view of planar beings were at an all-time low. The naturalists and the psions had moved away as well. They had their own reasons and Owen knew that the War had affected the natural order enough to be slightly hindering both aspects of casting and manifesting. With the power vacuum, the Loyalists had purchased mercenaries from the Warrior’s guild and installed their own government. No longer needed to call themselves a guild as they were in charge of the city now, and doing a good job with the rebuild process.

Owen paused to mark the ending of the Guild era in Gladius, it was humorous to think that it wasn’t a massive war between guilds, but an external force that caused the downfall.

“Tap the spy network and press them to search for something. In the meantime I’ll work on putting together an expedition party”

Submission Roster Show

A wizened, weathered figure dottered forwards through the dispersing crowd, slowly squinting at Arlo before speaking slowly in measured tones, his voice muted and soft enough that it drew the onlookers in closer, "But how will one such as you deduce which hard-to-reach places to search, o confident one?" 

Hearing Kelva speak up at nearly the same time as he himself was shuffling through the crowd, the wizened elf looks the younger elf up and down and mutters, "Age before beauty, sonny, and I win at both - step aside now and let your betters have at this 'Ir'Tolden' lad, will you?"

To Owen, he gave a courteous bow, and said "I am Denerell--one 'n,' one 'r,' two 'l's when you're recording it--known herein and thereabouts as 'The Creator,' though from whence the title came I can't recall or bother to remember.  The 'Fall of Gladius,' indeed.  Hmmph.  Gladius is quite dear and precious to me, you know.  I'm old, and not old like your kind gets old.  I'm old old.  And I like it here.  The Nimbus suits me.  We'll see what she does with an elf that ripens up with the millenia, eh?  Yes, yes.  Where was I... oh... Yes, that's right -- two objects, you say, and then we--well, I and perhaps others, should they be necessary--retreive them, and then get the information?  Why not the information now, then the objects, should they be necessary, and then the rewards forthwith and forever more?  Either way, Gladius is not falling.  It's rising, in fact.  Like a fine souffle..."  The old elf rambles on to himself, mentioning names of various bakeries across the land and the qualities of their souffles.

Owen nods at Arlo "Well met Arlo. Make your mark with Nest over there and you are welcome to stay and continue to listen to the questions that others might raise or be on your way. Making your mark does not mean we will call upon you as we will be looking to put together a team of individuals."

As the words came out of his mouth two elves seemed to rise to the surface of the crowd making a specticale of themselves

Owen allowed Kelva and Denerell to bicker back and forth for a few moments. It reminded him of how parents and children would fight. Both Grey elves seemed to think that had something to offer and the adventuring itch struck them at very different stages in life. He needed to form them into a group somehow, both seemed to want to impress but he wasn't quite sure they were done with each other yet. Kelva sought knowledge with her head, her heart however was rather rash. Denerell seemed to think entitlement was something that came with age, but for these quests, Owen knew his physical stamina could be a liablity. 

Their attention seemed to have turned from him to souffle preparation and clarification of gender.