"Did you meet any of the other champions yet?"
"Not yet, though I don't suppose that will be the case for long."
"True enough," Arandur agreed.
"As for my journey, it was about as uneventful as you'd expect from a day long walk on a road leading to High Council Hill. But enough about me. How have you and the rest of the council been faring? I trust Sadron didn't have too much trouble in dealing with the aftermath of my last visit?"
Arandur flinched again. "It's been...trying."

"Indeed," came another voice, this one deep and powerful. Sadron had come up behind the Storyteller. "But the conflict is over now, one way or another. A new threat has taken its place, one that threatens all of us. But more on that later, once everyone is here." Sadron paced over to his seat, inched himself down, and pulled out his pipe. "Nothing quite like a good smoke, eh?" he commented as he lit the tobacco.

Arandur glanced at the third unoccupied seat. His shoulders drooped momentarily before he turned back to Sadron and exchanged with him a knowing look.
Sadron puffed out a little cloud of smoke resembling a sailing ship. "What do you think, Storyteller, of the state of affairs in Aetherion? I trust you've had a good look around since the last Council."