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25 years ago, an unlikely band of heroes defeated the evil that plagued Waeldeshore. Sure, everyone may have their own version of the tale, but in the end the group was victorious. A monstrous dragon was slain, demons were pushed back into the abyss, and the objective of their mission, to obtain an item, one that was much more than it seemed, had been successful. 
 
The key was now in the hands of their sage, Genevieve; a mysterious woman with such knowledge and power, handed down to her by the elders of her order for one purpose - to snuff out the evil in this world. The order Genevieve had once belonged to, was dedicated to preserving the balance, and keeping the demons of the abyss at bay. Unfortunately, treachery and deceit were more than just side notes in a story book; ultimately, they were what caused the downfall of the order. Remnants of their true purpose had gone into hiding, until one fateful day, the gods decided their knowledge and power was needed once more. Genevieve had skulked around town for a few days until she found their group, informing them of the details of their situation. She fought with them, aided their battle as best as she could. She had done her duties and eradicated the evil that attempted to overtake Waeldeshore. Their mission had been a success, and those who had lingered within the city walls beyond that first night, had learned of many other mysteries that plagued their realm.
 
Many other powers came into play over the years. The Jarjeatys Magi are an order of professional mages, all talented in magic at varying levels and species, but all having the same degree of discipline, mental control and a good degree of knowledge. Their sphere of influence extends wide, although they aren't known for using it often. Individual members are rare to come by, but many courts in the world have at least one member serving as some sort of advisor. They are also known to take refugees in, and maintain a library containing various items of value. Their power and influence has grown over the years, yet there is much about them that remains a mystery, unless of course you know where to look.
 
[center][i][b]Present Day[/b][/i][/center]
A woman clad head to toe in fine silks and jewels, sat at her throne, bejeweled the same way as her gown. Her brow wrinkled slightly, her muscles tensed, her very presence echoed with impatience and frustration. She drummed her long and painted fingernails on the arm rest. She hadn’t seemed to have aged very much over the past twenty five years. For any that had known her previously, they may stare at her with wide eyed disbelief, to look upon her; they would see the same face that had stared at them 25 years prior. The new comers may think their host is but a young lass, barely into her twenties. 
 
Suddenly there was a knock at the door. "Enter" the sage bellowed. A small and frail man entered, the sight of him suggested quite an opposing lifestyle than what was displayed in the throne room. He wasn't horribly well off, but his clothes were torn and worn. The dirt under his fingernails suggested he was a laborer of sorts. His voice was meek, and he trembled as he grew closer to the woman.
 
"Pardon the intrusion m'lady, ever-one got yer lettas. Sum o dem a here in town alrede." He began to stumble over his words and cleared his throat in frustration. "I told em' ta come here." He nodded to her, keeping in his place until she gave any other instructions. 
 
“It is about time”, she grumbled. “I had sent those letters out over a week ago, I shouldn’t have had to wait this long. So where are they?!”
 
“I ain’t sure m’lady.” He winced. Her temper had only gotten worse with time. .. Time … It was something she seemed to have a lot of, but it was never enough. Nothing was ever enough. “Bu-but I’m sure they be here soon.” He nodded once more. 
 
She looked him over briefly. The stammering annoyed her, but she knew he was only doing it out of fear. [i]Good[/i], she thought. [i]He should be afraid of me[/i]. [b][i]”Calm Yourself”[/i][/b] it was but a whisper, a faint echo of a voice that only she could hear. Part of her knew she was being harsh with the poor man, sometimes she just could not help herself. She sighed softly, leaning her head into the palm of her hand, her elbow propped up on the arm of her throne.

"Thank you, that will be all." She muttered to the messenger. Her demeanor had changed somewhat, but she couldn't bring herself to apologize. It hadn't been in her nature to do so in a long while. Nevertheless, the group she had assembled would be gathered in her abode soon enough. And upon their success, she would regain the item that was stolen from her. [i]...and all that is rightly mine[/i], she concluded her own thought with words just above a whisper. Now all that was left to do was to sit and wait.