As Shosden introduces himself, a half-orc with the cross of St. Cuthbert tattooed on his chest cheers and punches the chair next to him, causing it to splinter and break. Various others provide polite applause for those who did not mention a particular deity. When you have all introduced yourselves, the chatter subsides into a nervous hush. Fluttering her wings ever so slightly, the angel speaks once more.

"Thank you all for displaying the courage to serve, and possibly die. Surely, you are aware of the threat that the Hands of Fate poses. For months now, they have been making veiled threats, but we did not take them as anything serious. Until we received this."

With that, she hands you the scroll she has been holding. Unfurling it, you find the following note scrawled in what appears to be blood:

Your time has elapsed. Millenia have been given unto thee, and they have been wasted. Your secrets are known, and they shall be revealed. Prepare to see the coming of your end. A new sun rises in seven days. You have all been warned.

The letter bears no signature--simply a crude drawing of a hand with a circle drawn in its palm. As you come to the end of the message, the angel explains: "Yesterday, a copy of this letter was delivered to every temple in the city under the cover of early morning darkness. It is clear that they are serious; the Hands of Fate are mobilizing. Brother Quickstep has more information for you." The angel sits, folding her wings around herself.

The one-eyed halfling you had seen earlier limps forward. "Sure enough," he rasps, "I was coming back from a job when I saw the little sumbitch drop the scroll on my temple's doorstep and walk away. I trailed him for a few hundred yards, and then we had a little...talk." The rogue laughs as he shares his tale, resting his hand gently on the hilt of his dagger. "It turns out the Hands are meeting tonight in the old graveyard off Daw's Field. That might be as good a place to start as any. Y'all have any questions?"