"They were few at first, those who came to peek at the Rift. Mostly farmers and shepherds, local villagers from the surrounding towns just curious or bored. Then came the scouts, the knight-errants, those who had seen the battle and came to investigate. Before long, a tent city sprang up. Merchants arrived, hoping to sell anything to the assembled throng. Then came the warlords, the bandit-kings, the generals and leaders, who agreed to spill no blood while gathered here. The potentates and fallen merchant princes, informed by their retainers of the tragedy that took place. On the former site of the town of Llewellyn, devastated by a dispute between sorcerers, a great gathering took place. Words, threats and lies were exchanged. Information, goods and services were traded, and before long they left, one by one. To tend to their holdings, their palaces or their farms. For a brief period they were all gathered in one place, drawn to the site of this tragedy, and then they returned, to plot or war or indulge and spend their final days as they see fit, until fate or another event shatters their routine and they assemble once more."

- Evi Mosse, wandering bard (died of hunger one year after the Disjucntion), writing in Eallian, a language no-one still alive can understand

"Stuff Happens"

- Iridican Proverb

It's practically a given that every once in a while, an event simultaneously comes to the attention of the majority of people. Whether it's rumours drawing throngs of believers to a sighting of the Harlot of Ix, one of the Prophetesses of the Church¹⁾; or a battle that devastates the countryside drawing everything from looters to merchants to Kings who want that bit of boring grassland and hills because it will one-up their neighbour.

These occurrences are hard to predict, and impossible to plan for, but when they do happen it gives the attendants a chance to socialise, trade information or services, blackmail each other and everything else that tends to happen when the powerful are gathered.

Of course, not everyone attends. Those with enough power tend to send representatives or emissaries, as not everyone can afford to take time away from the throne to go gawk at the crater where a former town used to be. Most people in the City need to sneak out unless they have special permission. Some pay outsiders to attend in their stead and do their bidding.

In the last few days heralds and messengers have spread across Anicca carrying word from someone signing themselves simply “Hope”. They have called for the first convocation in twenty five years requesting the presence of Rulers, Warlords, priests, those of ability and those with power who wish to hear what he has to say. They have named the time and the place as The Everlasting City, the great city of old that now lies within the shadow of the Disjunction. What they have to say remains a mystery as do the names of those who will attend.

"Around the Great Convocation the Magisterium wove a mighty ward of Will so that those who attended seeking violence or treacherous murder found their blade stayed and their poison curdled in its vial..."

- An Account of the last convocation held before the start of the Will War

The diplomats, politicians and rulers of old were no fools and to attend a meeting of foreign powers was always risky even when sanctioned by the watchful eye of the Church. To make the Convocations more appealing to even the most paranoid Lord or Lady the Church had the Magisterium Sorcerers ensorceled the meeting places with magics that prevented the attendees from harming one another. Of course that was in the age before the breaking of the World. The Magisterium no longer exists to provide the protections of old but if another Convocation were to be called, especially in this time of discord, there would have to be protection of some sort…wouldn't there?