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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Erudite" data-source="post: 2672071" data-attributes="member: 31400">Winter was as cold as memory said it was, but Corund simply wrapped his cloak around him to prevent it from tangling around him due to a sudden, powerful gust blowing from the river.  The cloak was fulgin, the color that is blacker than black, and of incredibly tight weave and quality.    Though he was deep inside Silverymoon, it felt more like being in a carefully sculpted parkland.  Corund, who felt a deep kinship with the majestic forests of his homeland, appreciated the unique touch.  His newer home was sorely lacking in trees, although beautiful in other ways.He had been back for only a few days, and had sought out an old friend.  The facade of the store front was covered in thick, green ivy, an obvious illusion, and an advertisement to the nature of the establishment.  Of course, the second illusion above the door of a scroll surrounded by a nimbus of golden light also served to beckon clientele to The Shining Scroll.As he stepped into the recessed doorway to open the deeply stained door, he seemed to flicker, waver, and ultimately fade into the shadows, except where his left hand and heels were struck by the sun.  It made him seem to be a fragmentary creature, like a partially illuminated window of stained glass.The jingle of a bell announced his presence, which suddenly appeared out of the shadows again, completely, as if being birthed from the recesses of the ceiling and floor.  The plastered ceiling was illuminated by mage light, and the actual customer area was merely adequate for three or four people to stand together before the very high counter top which ran completely around the entry, barring the entrance.  Two narrow windows let in the pale wintery light that competed with the magic to show the many writing supplied stacked with precision behind the counter.  A doorway, open at the moment, led to a scriptorium and , Corund knew, supplies of infintely more valuable magical scrolls."Salutations and glad tidings, future prospect, and delighted shopper.' This came from a charming voice that reminded Corund of wind chimes, and which belonged to a small dragon lazily draped along the counter, light playing off of irridescent scales, filmy wings of diverse colors flapping once or twice to assist the creature to sit up and prance a peculiar jig before it sat up straight and looked squarely at the stranger. "Scrolls for all purposes!" it announed cheerily. "And for a-l-l purposed, bubbo, if you catch my drift..." it announced in a conspiratorial whisper, leaning forward like a Waterdhavian criminal.A scroll case flew across the room, though the dragon executed a jump that carried it into an aerial dodge, and the projectile clattered behind the counter."No we don't, you nasty, evil beast!" a feminine voice announded, heralding the arrival of a pretty, moderately plump woman, dark brown hair braided down her back."That is two days pay, docked from your wages, missy!" it chirps as it takes a seat on the counter again."Still think you own the place, don't you Villynk?" Corund chuckles, dropping his hood around his shoulders."That's 'cause someone has to look out for business! It is a terrible burden..." the faerie dragon complains, indulgently.  It seeks out a scratching from Corunds fingers, insistently presenting it's neck for attention."Corund!  Your back!  I had some concern that you had met a pretty woman someplace, and forgotten about me." She comes over and wraps her arms around his waist.  She places her head on his shoulder, then punches his arm, hard."Ouch!"he exclaims. "Xara." he says more softly."Next time, send me a message, my wayward lover.  About time you get yourself your own familiar, like any decent wizard.  Then at least you could have someone remind you about those you've left behind!" She  kissed him, then stepped back. "A year, and two weeks, and three days.  And probably twelve hours thrown in for good measure!"Together they walk to the back, and up a narrow stairs above the store where he and Xara retire, and where she lives. After a period of reaquaintance, Xara Tantlor pulls the sheet over her breasts, a small sigh exclaiming her feelings. "You've returned at a bad time, love.  Allustriel is dead these past two months, and Adbar has withdrawn from the Alliance."  The young wizardess fills in Corund on the doings and troubles of his home town, while he fills in his latest efforts as well."The departure of the Netherese Archmages from Shadow follows hard on the loss of Tilverton" he explains. "I've tracked the shadow storms, and they are increasing in frequency, but I'm chasing dead ends now, because the Prime is part of the equation. Now, I come back to find more immediate troubles waiting for me.  What can I do?" he announces. "I must see my home safe first, before tackling the larger issues.  Resolving the stability of the Alliance must take place quickly, though, for I fear the issues of stability between Prime and Shadow fortell some predicament greater than the return of the Archmages."Both spend the remainder of the day renewing their relationship, as the sun disappears below the horizon, and the shadows of night lengthen.</blockquote>

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