To all members of the Shadow Court, who are currently in existance in this era or have the ability to reach this era by methods that will not cause a fracture in the very fabric of space and time*.

A note is received by you, a member of the Shadow Court. You're not quite sure how the message found its way to you, but you quite clearly remember unfolding the richly bound parchment, and getting the distinct waft of coriander as you unrolled the paper.

After struggling to keep the thing open (it kept on trying to roll back up) you managed to wedge part of it under a book, and the other end under a chair. The scroll itself went on for about 10 foot, with nearly that much blank, apart from some carefully printed words in the middle. Some of the words seemed to swim in and out of focus and move around a bit, but as best as you can tell, it read...

...so, you resolve to be there. As you step back, the parchment snaps back into place, rolls itself up and vanishes. It has presumeably gone to bother someone else.

*Only people who have a pair of exquistely crafted Pinking Shears of Time and Space Fabric Manipulation may contravene this requirement.

Muldran looked up, and dusted his hands off. Then he looked to either side of him, and saw the chunks of masonary slowly disappearing under the drifting snow.

He chuckled to himself, and flicked his hair over his shoulder - he hadn't had this much fun in ages! Looking at the small, sealed compartment in front of him he laid a ward on the door and whispered some words, feeling the magic flow back into the building.

"Something to show, something to guide. Something to light, and something to darken. Something found and something to purify. And here we will be."

Muldran stepped through the open door and whispered the closing ward - and another drift of snow washed over the Vinyamar, leaving the strange chamber in its place...