*As various monsters mill in and out of the Shrine, they discuss various events. Some (most?) brag about their recent victories, over the succulent juicy uglies. Others (lots) are too busy settling their own problems, arguing, insulting, and challenging. A lone troll sits in the corner, wading through some grunt intestines with a severed shriveled foot that seems to have once belonged to an orc.

The ones who bother to recall the troll mention that he was performing some kind of an augury. Apperantly unsatisfied, he decided to use a less effecient, more boring, mostly useless and rarely effective method of divination. He started asking others

He asked them of the clans. He asked them of the powers. What kinds are out there, What are they about, What is special about them. He asked, some answere, most shrugged and continued on with their own individual bickering and bragging.*