For Volqui, the commodity that she craves most has always been – and will likely always be – the rush of being the first to hear. To some of her siblings, her cleverness was endearing. They let her deal their secrets like a currency, and they listened to her sweet words as she relayed to them what she received in return. The few who saw it as a betrayal learned to avoid her to prevent themselves from being swindled out of their deepest thoughts. There were others still – those who held dominion over things like discipline and order – who found the very sound of her voice to be a threat to everything that they had built for themselves. And so, they lured her to the highest peak in all of Mutantur, ambushed her, and they cut the words from her mouth forever. The final sound that her tongue forced free was a battle cry that shook the very heavens. Her roar caught the wind, and as it did all the falcons in all the world rushed to her aid and chased her assailants down the mountainside. It is said that they bear the scars of their betrayal to this day.

      You might think that prayers to Volqui would be met with resounding silence, but they are not. Though she can no longer speak, she is perhaps the most active on the mortal plane. She relays her influence with messages. These messages are all written now, of course, and delivered by the great birds that have served her since she lost her voice. You, however, will likely never see one of them. No, you will hear her messages in whispers, instead: in the idle chatter between a barmaid and the drunken regular she gossips with; or in love letters written between an adulterer and his mistress; or in strange carvings on the walls of secret spaces.

      The shadows of the world are the ones who receive her letters – the spies, the extortionists, and the assassins. If you choose to go into Volqui’s service, and you do not have the strength to be any of those things, then fret not. You only have to provide her with one thing to gain her favor: something that she does not already know.

      What I have given to Volqui will stay between my patron, myself, and the God of Whispers. That is until she inevitably regifts it for something more tantalizing. There are times when she sends me her messages in return for her patronage, and I become the loose lips in a crowd. There are times when I need to disappear, and she cloaks me in darkness and hides me away like one of her secrets.

      I know that she will reveal me someday. I know better than to ever try and stop her. After all, even if you took her hands, she’d just learn to write with her teeth.

       -From the Oracle Notes of Kaelmorn Teverin