When evening arrived, Msaka emerged from his seclusion and took a seat in a corner of the dining area. There were fewer people around than normal, though they still seemed just as upset as those there earlier in the day had been. They were still as hushed in their conversations, which Msaka found to be something of a relief. Unfortunately, it also made the room seem like it was full of people engaged in conspiratorial plots. Obviously that wasn't the case, but Msaka still felt uneasy about it.

He ate his dinner slowly, and once finished, requested a large mug of the rich black coffee that was served locally. Msaka didn't find the taste to be particularly enthralling, but it was a distraction from the whispers around him, and the alertness it brought on didn't go unappreciated either. He sat quietly for nearly an hour, sipping it and pondering the matter of Raseir's water supply.

He couldn't place the water elemental back in the fountain. His people needed the thing, and the shaman wouldn't stand for him returning without it. Summoning a new elemental was out of the question, at least until word could reach Aziza for her to make the trip to Raseir to do it. Tunnelling down to the underground rivers would take a long time and a lot of resources, and while it normally might have been possible, with the city short of water already, Msaka didn't think it likely that it could be accomplished. That left importing the water from elsewhere or bringing it down from the mountains, and neither would really fill the city's needs in the long term.

None of those solutions were ones Msaka could really help with. His spells simply weren't suited to the task, and he had neither the time nor resources to try to develop ones that would be. That being the case, Msaka concluded that he'd simply have to leave the Raseirians to deal with the situation. Suppressing a frown, he drained the last few drops of coffee from his mug and set it down on the table. That done, he stood and left the inn.

Emerging into the gate plaza, he stood silently near the front of the inn for several minutes, observing the last business of the day being transacted and the stalls slowly starting to close as the sun sank low on the horizon. There were fewer people present than there were normally, and they seemed even more upset than they had been earlier that day. The simple worry of earlier was now accompanied by irritation and short tempers, and Msaka wondered how long it would be before a fight broke out during all of the haggling that went on. Shaking his head, he started walking towards the street leading out of the plaza.

A flicker of movement in the corner of his vision caused him to stop and turn about, crouching slightly in the event an attack was coming. The fact that things had been quiet lately on that front hadn't caused him to relax his guard, as there was always the chance that that was what his unknown assailant was waiting for.

It quickly became apparent that he was not under attack, however. The movement he had spotted was a small wooden box fluttering through the air, a pair of feathered wings sprouting from its sides providing its apparent means of flight. It meandered through the air in the direction of the inn, disappearing within as it flapped quietly through one of the windows.

Msaka stood staring for a moment before it dawned on him that the box had flown into the window belonging to his room. He was immediately concerned about what it might have contained, and strode back to the inn, entering quickly and hurrying through the dining room and down the hall to his room. Stepping inside, he saw that the box had set itself down upon the table. The wings it had previously possessed were no longer anywhere to be seen, though a few loose feathers were scattered to either side of it.

Msaka frowned. He only knew of one being who would be likely to send him a box in such a manner, and was thus rather wary of what surprises it might contain. Standing well back, he used his spell of detection to divine its nature.

The box itself seemed to be nonmagical, but there was a spell worked into its lid. It didn't look dangerous, but there was something decidedly pranksome in its nature. Msaka backed away even further, Triggering the enchantment when he felt he was at a safe distance.

A small flare and cloud of black smoke erupted from the box lid, the latter quickly curling up to hang in the air below the ceiling. Msaka scowled at the sight, not at all amused at Keapon's attempted humor. It would have taken a lot of work to clean the effects from his fur, assuming none was burned off entirely.

Though its top was now slightly darkened by the foiled trick, the box remained on the table. Another detection spell revealed no further magic upon the box itself. The contents were another matter, but there was no way to be sure of what lay within until he opened it. He didn't see any point in delaying doing so - perhaps the thing had been sent simply to annoy him, but there was a much better chance that something important lay within. Still, he thought it best to be careful, given the nature of the sender.

He stepped up to the table and stood to one side of the box, then opened its lid. His instincts proved correct, as a small jet of ink squirted forward from under the lid as it was raised. Being to one side, he wasn't endangered by the ink, but it did splatter over a small section of one wall and the floor. Msaka sighed in resignation as he stared at the mess, knowing he'd have to clean it. If he didn't, he'd probably have to pay for the innkeeper to do it.

Looking down into the box, he saw two items lying within. A well made leather bag tied at the top with a string, and a wax-sealed letter. He picked up the letter and examined the seal, finding himself somewhat surprised to discover the city seal of Shapier upon it. He glanced down at the bag, wondering what might have been important enough to deliver to him. With a shrug, he slit open the seal on the letter with one claw, unfolded it, and began to read.