Trapper fealt shiver running up and down her spine, walking back up to the portal room she heard the other Kobolds tapping their claws on the stone stairs, her scales were all agitated like she was about to pounce on prey after stalking it for days, this was the Conclave's dream for so long, to understand, in the past seven years it was also her personal mission.
Having a class almost wholly devoted to luck and making chance encounters yield the highest prizes and also allow her some crafty and imaginative escape plans work against all other odds made her one of the few members from the Conclave to interact with the outside world while searching for a direct connection to their creator, the first Allen, the one still alive in the real world.
Now was her moment, her luck played out and let her one time attempt at resurrection bring forth the closest thing she ever heard of to the first Allen, and she was going to share it with the Conclave, their dream, her prize and maybe finally some answers.
She stepped through the portal to the guildhouse, another new thing in their lives, along with seven new Kobolds and the new guild interfaces that let them communicate with the whole Conclave at once through the guild chat and message boards.
On the warren side she saw only a few guards, signalling Herb Picker Kobold to approach her, the small grey scaled Kobold walked over timidly, "where are Oracle and Bonesmith?", Trapper asked about the leaders of the Conclave without adhering to proper ceremony, sending a sure sign that this was important enough to lose community points if her message didn't prove worth delivering.
"Oracle is exploring the new Warren Trapper", Herb Picker replied softly, "Bonesmith went through the other portal to see the farmhouse", she finished with a curt nod signalling she was finished talking, idle routines made it awkward in continuos chatter because you could never know when the other person was still in attendance or completely ignoring you, and in Kobold reptilian bodies it was a lot harder to read gestures and facial expressions.
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Herb Picker looked at something behind Trapper and her first reaction was to tighten the grip on her trident but then her jaw dropped when she recognized her own face, the one she expected to see every day when waking up and looking at her reflection, it was glowing with a blueish tinge and surrounding a human skull but the facial features were unmistakable, this was Allen, the first Allen, dropping the trident called attention from the rest of the room and she heard gasps and surprised calls as she fealt her kneed buckle and hit the ground.
Someone started shouting, hundreds of feet ran into the portal room thinking the Warren may be under attack only to meet face to face with something out of legend, a dream to many and nightmare to a few, Oracle walked into the room and immediately rushed out and returned wearing the regal robes of the prime Allen priest.
Trapper didn't expect that response, then she realised it was an obvious oversight on her part, a few of her friends were religious fanatics in the cult of the first Allen, while nearly all other members of the Conclave held some faithful tendencies that their lives had meaning beyond just playing fodder to mad Player schemes that were hunting them relentlessly.
Only the new members of the Conclave and the few who were there at the revival seremony seemed less affected by the appearance of the spirit she brought in their midst.
"WAIT", she cried before anyone started to speak, "don't ask any questions", she wanted to explain everything but her words seemed to get the opposite effect and she idly thumped her tail, "the summoning ritual only allows him to answer two questions and he will disappear in 47 minutes" she finished with a hopeful wish, "unless we find a way to keep him with us".