The late afternoon sun staggered weakly toward the horizon. It's final fitful rays of the day created tiny, flickering rainbows amid the droplets of surf that hung in the air, tossed there by the tides. A lone fenovak shrieked and wheeled, full of avian wrath at the lone figure straggling up the path.

Clad in greys and crimson, she limped along, among the rocks and over the sands, pausing briefly to examine the castle that stood at high tide, until she reached the edge of the Bay.

Picking he way along the narrow path, she approached a hooded figure who stood, a lone sentinel before a silver gate. Eyeing the black marble walls with obvious curiosity, she exchanged brief words with the figure, who, after some thought, gave her a curt nod. She handed the figure a pouch of coins and a rolled up length of parchment, bowed her thanks, and shuffled back off toward town.

The hooded guard, chuckling to himself, unrolled the scroll, and tacked it artlessly to the gate. His manner suggested he didn't expect it to be there long.

The parchment read:

Esteemed Members of the Sorcerer's Guild:

I, the Witch Serseri, am bid by Klinast Hos'tau to seek a Master or Mistress in the sorcerous arts, by way of assuring that my education is both complete and correct.

Any who have interest in taking on a student or apprentice are encouraged to seek me out, wherein we might discuss the terms of such an arrangement.

Forgive my temerity; new to the area, I knew no other way to reach out.

The scroll is sealed with crimson wax and a crude sketch of a black krolvin skull superimposed on a red starburst.