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[Grignag]

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To the citizenry of Nujel'm, under the Feluccan moon, the sudden appearance of a cowled and dark skinned visitor on a high prow dragon boat was highly unexpected. The paranoia that wisely existed in those of the darker facet pursued the lone traveler as he moved about the city. It was not until he stepped up to the guards of the palace and displayed a pendant, accompanied by a pleasant grin, that many of the fears were allayed. The pendant contained the emblazoned design of a crown over the globe of Sosoria with two swords crossed behind the world, the heraldry and insignia of the Protectorate. An organization designed for the protection and forbearance of Sosoria, as they had been notified.

The stranger calmly explained that he was on a mercy mission for the sake of their Trammel brethren who had been experiencing structural concerns with their palace. He needed to determine the structural integrity of their own building and then use that information to assist with repairs. He produced several other documents declaring the legitimacy of his mission, signed by names they did not know. But then, there was so little these people knew of the politics outside of their island.

The emissary of the protectorate was permitted to walk about the compound, assuming he allowed a guard to be posted with him. The emissary readily agreed and departed to begin his study. Yet his guard often found himself with severe bowel cramps and had to excuse himself momentarily on a number of occasions, the emissary promising to wait patiently until he returned each time. Had it not been for a sudden spur of similar sickness for all the guards of the compound the poor warden might have found a replacement, but alas it was not so. Each time the guard departed to relieve himself and each time he returned to find the emissary exactly where he had left him.

Finishing his measurements, despite the numerous interruptions, the emissary thanked his ill companion and the rest of the similarly afflicted guard staff before excusing himself and returning to his ship, leaving the people with a faint sense of interest in him and his mysterious work for the good of their kin, leery as they were of anyone from beneath the moon of Trammel.

As the emissary sailed beyond the view of the island a wraith materialized near him, its mission having been completed long before. For a city as unused to external influence as this one, it had been a simple matter to poison the guards well water with a mild irritant. It would pass in a few hours with none the wiser as to why. As black lances of dark energy arced from beneath his cowl, the emissary focused his mind, sensing the inscribed runes burning into the walls of the palace, beyond the sight of those who didn't know how to look for them.

The emissary cast the emblem of the Protectorate into the ocean and burned the scrolls detailing his task and what he planned to measure, as well as his ledger which carried a collection of meaningless scribbles with arbitrary numbers written all over it.

Just as he had told his master.

"A task easily completed."
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