"Morning, Tarag," calls Keldar Warbray. "We got back last night after some strange happenings. Here's the strangest: Galwynn didn't object to my carrying the things Thyrin made for you." He takes a finely made leather pack from his back, opens it and pulls out, oddly enough, another much shabbier backpack, which he returns to his back. "Your cloak is in a side pocket," he says. He frowns. "At least, I think it is. It's difficult to tell exactly where things go when you put them in there. You could probably convince Tommy to stick his head inside, or even climb all the way in, to find out."
"Um... here's the odd thing," he continues. "We left Grenton, following the road we'd taken each time before, but, well, Grenton had moved since the last time. I mean, it wasn't where it had been. It took us the best part of a week to find our way back to Orussus! Now, none of us are woodsmen, so we might get lost in the wild, but I tell you, we followed the road all the way and we kept near enough to north-east all the time. The whole land was different, until we were a day out from Orussus, and started to see familiar landmarks. Tommy was muttering endlessly under his breath about highly morphic planar this-and-that, and Galwynn and Rapture I could tell were praying a lot more than usual, and I don't mind admitting I was a little nervous myself, but I was kept busy wondering if that's why I never found Warbrayvia when I tried." He shakes his head. "Maybe I looked in the right place - and it just wasn't there!"
"Anyway, we made it. Gods only know what will happen when we try to go back to Grenton. Oh... I didn't tell you yet." He slaps his forehead. "We found a tunnel dug from the woods right against Thyrin's tower by those thieves, and a shovel, and a book of maps or plans or something. You'll have to ask Tommy. Thyrin wants us to look into it, to find out just who went to so much trouble to rob him. He has suspicions of the architect who drew up the plans for his tower. He gave us another fifty crowns each to cover anything that might come up."
Keldar counts out five platinum pieces into Tarag's hand. "Yours. Now, to business. I think it's time I let you have the honour of making the Warbray rapier, don't you? 192 crowns, I think you said? Well, I have the money now, though Galwynn is still stubbornly refusing to pay me back for saving his life, twice, and my grandmother's birthday is coming up, and I have no idea where I will find the money to buy her the present she deserves... not that I'll be seeing her, in Warbrayvia and all, but it wouldn't feel right not to buy her a new set of toothpicks, and after all, I don't know what she's been doing without...."
Keldar continues talking, but it's doubtful that Tarag is still listening.
