Jump City, California
Present day, 0248 hours
A black raven flew over the sleeping city, almost invisible against the dark backdrop of the sky, except as a silhouette when its form extinguished a star for a moment as it passed under it.
It landed noiselessly on top of the Museum of Archaeology and waddled over the roof as if looking for something, pecking at the floor every so often.
Eventually it found what it was looking for, and after a few more exploratory pecks, it spread its wings and flew up. It was difficult to see in the dark, but the bird appeared to go through a metamorphosis, its shape becoming less defined. What could be plainly seen, if there was anyone to see it, were the two sets of red, glowing eyes placed one above the other on its head. The spectral bird dove towards the spot it had found, and flew through the roof like a ghost to reach what it was ultimately seeking.
After traversing several levels, passing with the same ghostly ease through solid concrete, it found itself in the museum's vaults, where specimens were collected, studied and prepared for display.
The object it was looking for was not locked or guarded. It was on top of a desk, among shards of pottery and stone arrowheads. Whoever left it there obviously did not considered it anything more than a curiosity. It was a small stone square, about two inches long and slightly less wide, with a strange symbol on it – a horizontal line with two curved, pointed lines descending from it, like long fangs, and a single dot in the middle between them.
The specter hovered over it. The small stone slowly floated up and disappeared inside the bird's ghostly body. Immediately, the bird seemed to collapse inward and vanish, together with its prize. There were no traces left.
College of Winterhold, Province of Skyrim, Tamriel
Year 4E 408, 12th Last Seed, 0302 hours
The Archmage's quarters were silent and empty. The emptiness was suddenly broken as a shimmering portal sprung up from the floor and a scamp scurried out from it. The scamp paused to take its bearings and then quickly moved to do what it came for. Its primitive mind was focused on the set of simple instructions that its master burned into it.
Find it. Take it. Bring it. If discovered, destroy yourself.
It padded soundlessly around the circular room until it found what it was looking for – a small stone disk or token with a serpentine rune etched into it in flaming red. It quickly grabbed the disk, and looking around to make sure it had not been seen, passed through the portal to wherever it came from. The portal vanished, and the Archmage's quarters returned to silence and emptiness.