"I have read a few things about the Vale of the Archimage," said Gord. "Whether the tales are fanciful or not, it is said that strangers are… most unwelcome there."

"You'll be welcome enough if you should care to come along," Rexfelis purred reassuringly. "I, of course, am no stranger at all, and whomever I bring with me is accorded acceptance and respect. Besides, Basiliv has asked to meet you."

This last statement made Gord very uneasy. The reputation of this secluded land and its ruler was anything but amiable. And why would the Catlord be discussing him with Demiurge Basiliv in the first place? Gord didn't think he wanted to know, so he suggested to Rexfelis another course. "Hmmm," he murmured, pretending to consider the matter carefully. "Perhaps another time, Master Cat, for I have things to attend to in Greyhawk soon now. Perhaps thereafter I can travel westward and pay my respects to the Demiurge. Meanwhile, could you not simply transport me back to my home city?"

Rexfelis laughed softly. "Diplomatic, very diplomatic! I would indeed fulfill your request if I could, Gord," the Catlord said with a sincere smile, "but many powers weave and interlock over the Flanaess now, as they have done for some time past. All is not well there, you know — but I suppose you do not need to concern yourself with such matters any more. To give you a short answer, though, I am able to send you back to Oerth via the terminus that Basiliv's force keeps open and operative. You must go there if you wish to return to your world. But you can feel at home here, too, Gord. You may spend all of your life here if you wish, for you are now certainly of my own ilk," the Master Cat added warmly.

His heart sinking, Gord asked, "Cannot one of your power go where he wills?"

"I? Yes indeed. I can go where I desire. You would not survive the rigors of such a work, however. Would you use another of those precious lives — only to end up back here where you started?"