[Ariadne's never made a public post with her crystal before. She tends to prefer keeping a low profile. As it is, she doubts more people who don't know her than do know her will receive the message. But that's just fine. If there's one thing to be said for her, it's that she's always kind to strangers.

Maybe even especially to strangers.

Still, she's a little hesitant as she begins. Her voice is gentle and girlish. It has a musical quality, like she's a person more accustomed to humming than speaking. Which, really, she is.]

I realized something. It's been over a year since the Rift brought me here. A whole year, I've been living here, as a stranger, I guess.

I think it's only fitting that I take this moment to thank everyone for the kindness they've shown me. You didn't have to take me in. You could have sent me off into the wilderness on my own.

I know none of you asked for us Rifters to be here but...

Thank you.

[For not killing them. For not calling them demons. For not locking them up away from the sky. You can decide what she means.]

...that's all, I guess.

Um...bye.

[ It is late, and the voice coming through the crystal is quiet. ]

My mother used to say that the day of one's birth was not a celebration of that moment, but a celebration of all the moments after that led up to you being alive, and a bit older.

[ Pamelia sighs. ]

But what does one do when they find themselves regretful of being a bit older? Of surviving, and living, through strokes of luck and stubbornness when others have not?

[ Happy 21st to her. ]

[Beginning this message takes some doing. Sending crystals are unfamiliar--but after a moment, fumbling gives way to the ambient noise of a fairly crowded pub. Conversation, the clink of dishes and mugs. Laughter. Music, in the background.]

Right. So-- [At last he's got this messaging thing worked out now, all right; he's nothing if not adaptable--] I don't know how it's done here, all right, but I've got t' complain.

This bard won't shut up.

And d'you know the worst part? The worst part is, he's playin' Tom Jones. [The horror.] Tom Jones! Come all this way, and there's still some prick doing 'What's New Pussycat' in the corner of the pub in the middle of the afternoon. It's suffocating. And that's the only thing he's playing, by the way. You ask him anything else, no matter how nicely you ask--no, that's the only thing. Tom Jones. 'What's New'. Nothing else.

I mean, I'm going out of my mind here. Anyone know how t' get this to stop? Jesus--

...hello.

[The voice that comes through the sending crystals is--well. He's clearly hesitant, for one, and its easy enough to tell that this particular person is not that all used to speaking at large. Not that speaking into a crystal counts as such, but. The effect is still there, knowing where these messages will go to.

The awkwardness lingers for a moment, but then Bruce clears his throat and speaks properly, this time.]

This is Bruce. [Pause.] And I have news to deliver for anyone who is familiar with Kain Highwind, the Rifter.

[Another pause, and a quiet breath, because no matter how many times he does this--delivering news such as this is never pleasant business.]

He is dead--killed in a fight against a desire demon and its companions. All the healers at the scene did whatever was possible to save him, but the wounds were too extensive for chance of a proper recovery. Kain Highwind passed away a warrior, fighting to his very last breath.

In his last words he sends his apologies and well wishes to everyone who knew him, and to not mourn his passing - these are the words I pass on now to those concerned. For those who knew him, he will be remembered in our hearts.

Thank you for listening.



[Private to the Advisors only]

[Switching over now, and in a quieter voice:]

To the advisors: I will send you a detailed report as soon as I am able to.

ATTENTION

Whoever has been nicking from the preserves at night cut that right out or the next time youll get the entire pan

DIRECTLY TO THE NOSE

Everyone else if you have any information that leads to my bashing this thief about the face with a rolling pin there may be a reward in it for you

Either way youll find me in the kitchens i promise you that

--Avery

There's... a nug out here.

There are lots of nugs out here. Restless rustling in the bushes, foraging for food, tiny ones learning how to run and hide. This one's different.

She's wearing boots. They're bright, and red.

Someone must have made them. Nugs aren't born with boots.

She isn't lost. She doesn't know she's meant to be anywhere else. But someone might be missing her.

This is Obi-Wan Kenobi. I apologize for the delay in doing so, but I'd like to make an announcement; I've been appointed as the liason for the Rifter population.

For this reason, if you have a concern about a particular Rifter which cannot be peacefully resolved on your own, or if any Rifter has need of information, or support, please don't hesitate to contact me. I know we may not seem like any kind of cohesive group, but you aren't alone. Please, try to remember that.

[He clears his throat, then and continues.]

As for the rest of you, I have a question. Nothing too serious, just a little... oh, call it a thought-exercise: I first heard this one as a child.

If your house was on fire, what's the first thing you'd take out of it?

Good afternoon, All. My name is James Norrington, Knight Commander of the Inquisition's Templars, and I am here to inform you that I have been named as the Templar Liasion. That means that if you have a concern about my fellow Templars, you may bring it to me. If it is deemed important enough, or it is an issue that we cannot take care of internally, then then I will bring it to Inquisition Leadership. I will be more than happy to listen to any of your complaints, and try to resolve it peacefully and with great expediency.

[And now, a pained sigh.]

However, if it is you just saying that you think templars smell funny, or you don't like my hair, or if you just want to randomly throw a fireball at a templar? Then I am going to make fun of you, and send you on your way. If you want to get all your rude comments out now? Then I am sitting outside, enjoying this fine summer weather and finishing up my reports. You can do it here, or come and sit across the way from me, if you're feeling daring.

Hello. Some of you already know me, but for those who don't, my name is Solas. I was the mage who first helped the Herald with the Anchor. I have been researching the remaining shards, and I ask that each of you that possess one come to see me - I will be able to soothe any related pain, and assess the condition of your shard, and of the anchor as a whole.

Also, if anyone has any questions, feel free to contact me here. Thank you.

[The sending crystal message is abrupt, right in the middle of the afternoon, and the voice is Katniss's. Excitement and slight trepidation fills her tone, as she speaks to a select number of folks about her recent delivery.]

Mia, Ariande ... ah, honored members of the Mage Council! I just wanted to let you know that the chest from the Duke has arrived and, well, I think we are well and truly set to begin building.

[A pause.] Er, once we clear the space. What say you, Mage Council?

[Another pause.] And ... find someone to design the buildings. Not to mention purchase the materials -- ahhh, Mia, could you ... please help with that? All of my contacts are in the leather and meat business. After that! ... All we will need are volunteers, and people to help move the refugees into their new homes. The soldiers will move their own things, but if anyone has any ideas, or suggestions or ... knows where I can hide all this coin so Sera doesn't get her hands on it?

Please. Let me know.