Jedash silently follows her, stepping into the office and remaining standing by the chair in front of Jade's desk.

{OOP moving to private thread. Will pick up here after}

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"Of course my lord. Please join me in my office so we may speak more freely in private. "

Jade ushers Jedash down the hall and into her office. If he accepts she walks with him and closes the door behind them. She gives Kumara orders to stand gaurd outside.

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Jedash looks up as Jade approaches. There is no warmth in his expression, though no malice either. Just the cold stare behind ancient eyes that have seen much and more.
"Baroness."
He surveys the room with a slow turn of his head as the curious eyes of the surrounding populace pretend not to be actively staring. 
"It has come to my attention that we should have a word. It would seem that there are some unsavory inclinations that I would see quelled before the onset of any unintended and mutually inconvenient consequences. As such, I thought it prudent to appear in my official capacity and provide opportunity for clarity in lieu of less favorable complications."

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Jade quickly walks into the room and sees Jedash. She curtsies to him.

"Good evening Lord Jedash. It is good to see you after so long. How may I help?"

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...rips across Volaire, the air crackling with energy as a rift opens in the street in front of the Weeping Rose. Dust and small pebbles scatter from the scene, chased away by the massive displacement of magical energy as the rift fully forms. Through it steps Jedash, donned in regal finery in black and white with gold trimming; the symbol of the Dragon Kingdom emblazoned proudly upon the favor displayed at his hip. 
 

Dawn breaks over Volaire, painting the besieged city in hues of pale gold and bruised purple. Despite the Leib Olmaiin forces encroaching upon the borders, the city clings to the stubborn, comforting rhythm of mundane life. Citizens hurry through the cobblestone streets on their morning errands, and the local tavern roars with the familiar din of the breakfast rush. It is, by all accounts, just another morning.

Until the ground begins to tremble.

It starts as a deep, subterranean rumble that rattles cups on tavern tables and vibrates through the soles of boots. Then, a terrible, agonizing creaking rips through the crisp morning air.

At the edge of the city, the wrought-iron gates of The Cemetery of Lost Souls begin moving. The ancient, thick ivy that had bound the iron shut for years snap and tear like brittle bone as the massive doors force their way open. The metal scrapes and shrieks—a menacing herald of what was to come.

From the widening black maw of the cemetery pours a thick, heavy mist the color of freshly spilled blood. It does not drift; it cascades along the ground with an unnatural, fluid grace, moving faster than any natural fog. Within seconds, the crimson tide floods the streets of Volaire, turning the cobblestones red and swirling thickly around the ankles of the paralyzed citizens.

Through the bloody veil steps Valyrie Dreadmage.

The Lich of the Graveyard moves with an effortless, lethal elegance. Her long burgundy hair caught the morning light, contrasting starkly with her deep green tunic and dark pants. In her hand, she holds a wicked staff, using it casually as a walking stick. She does not walk alone. 

To her right stands a woman shrouded in a heavy blue cloak, her long dark hair falling like shadows. To her left looms an imposing, hulking suit of heavy armor, and beside the steel giant stands a deceptively small girl with long pigtails. And behind her, two other small females stand at the ready, resembling elves. Their hair is different but they look much the same as though they were twins.

Valyrie pauses, her gaze sweeping over the stunned, mist-drowned city. A knowing grin curls her lips.

“Shalltear. Cocytus,” the Lich commands, her voice slicing through the heavy silence. “You will lead my army and assist the Baroness of Seshtau in the defense of Ariad.” She strikes the butt of her staff against the stone, the sound echoing. “Eliminate Leib Olmai and The Shifting Scales.”

The towering suit of armor, Cocytus, bows deeply, its heavy plates grinding in grim obedience. Beside it, the girl in pigtails beams with a terrifying, innocent delight.

“As you wish, Master!” Shalltear chimes cheerfully.

“Aura, Mare. You have your orders.” Valyrie says and the twins look to one another with wide grins and giggles before they slowly fade into the shadows.

Valyrie raises her staff high, and the cemetery behind her erupts into motion.

A nightmare tide pours from the open gates. Skeletons with rusted blades, shambling zombies, ancient vampires, and drifting, ethereal wraiths flood the streets of Volaire. Yet, as the massive legion of the damned surges forward, they completely ignore the terrified, cowering citizens. Moving with calculated, lethal purpose, the horde immediately splits into two distinct columns.

The giant armor, Cocytus, turns his heavy steps toward the Seshtau embassy, an elite guard of the undead falling into perfect formation behind him. Shalltear pivots towards the city outskirts, leading a ferocious swarm toward the front lines.

As her undead army crashes like a necrotic wave against the forces of Leib Olmai and The Shifting Scales, Valyrie watches on. The Lich stands amidst the red mist with her lone companion remaining at her side, and smiles.

The guard looks to his partner stationed at the other side of the gate. His partner just shrugs so he turns back to the fox beastkin.

"How far out is your camp? Leib Olmai is still posted out there but if you stick to the main road and follow it to Kog'Thrak- the little Orc village?- you should be fine." He shrugs. "Just don't go wandering too deep into the forest. Leib Olmai is still hiding out there and I've heard the rumors about what they do to young girls. It ain't pretty. Be careful."

The guard steps aside.

[OOP: This road will lead to Kog'Thrak which is being patrolled by Volaire militia but the area around Volaire is still not safe so if you choose to venture beyond the guarded perimeter... We'll roll to see if you encounter any enemies! ]

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He shrugs. "I can check around for you. Maybe one of the higher ranking members knows something. Just stop by some time and I'll let you know if I've learned anything. I'm usually here at the front now."

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She quickly tried to come up with a suitable response. Her head filled with possibilities and solutions.

"I must return to my camp set far from here. I have supplies to be sure are intact, and family to tend to quickly."

She hoped the alibi would do well enough.

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Balasar seems to deflate slightly.

"I see... that sounds... interesting. So, mostly just busy work and fetching things? Oh well. Thank you for your help. You know, I am working on learning darkness spells if you know anyone who has some they're willing to share. I am working on getting some things for Kethri to learn one, but if you know of anyone else with any spells of that sort, that'd be of great help."

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As the fox reaches the city gates, a guard steps in her path.

"Excuse me miss. You should stay within city limits. It's still dangerous beyond the walls. We've got Leib Olmai pushed back a bit but it's still risky." He sighs. "It's still your choice... I just... Wouldn't recommend it."

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The young member sighs. "Well... It's a lot of busy work for the lowest ranking members. Cleaning, organizing, and fetch jobs. Like getting components for the guild and things of that nature." He shrugs. "I'm only a full fledged member as of a few months ago myself and they posted me at the desk. Since you're one of the heroes... I imagine they'll send you to gather things most likely. And helping to cast rituals is also another way to help out. If you possess that knowledge."

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The lightning Draconian bursts out of Zuiigri's house and heads straight for the Mage's Guild, weaving between the people in her path and trying not to trample them. 

She heads inside and briskly approaches the front desk. She slams two gold pieces onto the counter, snapping the Mage's Guild member out of their work. They look up at her as she reaches beyond and snatches the quill from his hand, which he immediately begins protesting, and then swipes a blank parchment. She tears it in half and then scribbles a quick message before shoving quill and parchment back into the members face.

"I need you to send this. Right now. It's urgent." Storm inhales and exhales deeply, trying to keep her breathing under control.

The young mage looks at the parchment in his face and takes it from her. Then he stands and swipes the two gold off the countertop. 

"Please, follow me." The mage says and leads Storm over to send the missive.

~~

As soon as the missive is sent, Storm exits the Mage's Guild and disappears into the crowd in the streets.

Standing a few feet from the Mage's Guild doors, an elf with long blonde hair watches Storm leave the Mage's Guild then turns on heel and heads in the opposite direction.

 

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Balasar smiles back.
"You know what... you actually could. I'm a new member and could use a little bit of help understanding what I can do to go up in ranks around here. You've been around here longer than me, so I could do with a few pointers."

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[The missive sends successfully and I have deducted 6 silver from your bank]

The young mage's guild member returns Balasar to the front desk and smiles. "Was there anything else I could do for you?"

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[Sent! ]

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The young man nods. "I'm sure we can."

He stands from his seat and steps around the desk, then gestures towards the hall. "Please, come with me and we'll deliver your missive."

[OOP: I can deduct the silver from oracle for you. Just submit a ticket with the missive information and who it is being sent to. He's  working on setting up missives for you guys! Remember that you can only send a missive to someone if you have met them and know their name.]

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Balasar gives a polite nod.
"Yep, I haven't been a member for too long, but it's nice to know I still get a discount. I really do hope this situation can settle down some day soon and life can finally return to normal. Owl feathers probably wouldn't be in such short supply if owls themselves weren't in short supply."
He then looks through his coin pouch while continuing to speak.
"I do have an owl feather, but I'm trying to save them up for something currently. Would you be able to break a mithril?"

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The young man at the desk lifts his head from the parchment he's scribbling on. "Oh. Uh. Certainly. You're new right? But still a member. Normally it's a gold piece to send a missive what with components being so hard to find. But for us members, it's 6 silver." He leans forward and lowers his voice. "But that's just because of how hard it is to get components. It's normally not this expensive."

He sits back again. "Unless you have the component yourself? It's an owl feather."

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After finishing with his work in the Mages Guild, he heads over to the counter where one of his fellow members is working. He straightens out his clothing before he speaks, holding a letter in one hand and a mostly hidden discomfort in his expression.
"Hello, I need to send a missive if you would be able to do so for me."

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