There is but one man which Arkenor of Britain calleth “Liege”. He who called out across Britannia for virtue to be sought above all else, and ushered in an age of peace and learning. There were those who sought to bring us low. The Shadowlords. Blackthorne the usurper. The Guardian in all his guile. But none proved equal to the good people of Britannia, strengthened by our dedication to the Virtues, lead by our wise monarch, Lord British.
Now our Lord calls out once more. I know not to what ends, but it is a call I have never refused. I shall wend my way to that special spot, down the lane beneath my house, where the Moongate shall be waiting. Whither shall it take me? It matters not, for adventure and injustice may be found throughout creation, and I go willingly where I am needed.
But not yet. The time is not *quite* right. When our lonely moon is in just the right place, then, and only then, shall the Moongate open.
There is but one clue. This picture:
By mine eyes it is a stone circle of kind betwixt I hath stepped so many times, but eyes may deceive. I shall prepare for all eventualities. Runestones must be polished and recharged, and my sword sharpened. I had best also reconfigure my old power armour and plasma-rifle, for the paradigm of our destination is unknown.
The Raven see. The Raven saw. And in the corn he sayeth “Cah!”.
We ,too, shall watch, and see. Here.