"It seems we are all of us definitely bound to a new land, eh?"

And the voice, low, gentle, and warm, came from a woman in her elder prime, wearing a gown of old fabric, but rich, nonetheless, and leaning on a staff, one gnarled, bent, and golden as only some oaks can be. Merlin smiled and waved a hand in a salute.

"Greetings, milady, and welcome to Medietas." She too had a map, and a phone, floating near her, to one side, and paid them no attention.