Alcoholic Alchemist, Vix, The High Wiccan Vixen says, "Pally the Pelican?"
Vix blinks.
You nod your head emphatically.
New Celest Postal Service.
This location is flooded with shallow, crystal clear water. The floor of the
lobby is an almost indefinable greyish brown. At the counter, everything has
the dull grey luster of being at least fifty years old, and anonymous in form.
From the scratched, vaguely translucent glass bowl for wetting stamps, to the
stacks of outdated forms, everything seems grey, sticky, sun-faded, or unused.
Through a small window, can be seen rows and rows of carrier pigeons in small
cubbyholes, and disgruntled pelicans waddling back and forth, their beaks
brimming with parcels. A large desk of sturdy wood is here, sitting regally
upon the floor. A plump pillow rests upon a finely crafted chair of pale wood
here. A portrait of Pally the Pelican, the postal mascot, hangs near the
service counter. A wiccan broom floats here, vibrating with energy. Alcoholic
Alchemist, Vix, The High Wiccan Vixen is riding on a wiccan broom. She wields a
winged celestial shield of heraldic bearing in her left hand and an athame
dagger in her right.
You see a single exit leading north.
You say, "I have -no- idea."
Pally is a cartoon caricature. He looks exceedingly exuberant, and has a
package in his smiling beak. A poem covers the lower half of the poster, in a
festive script.
It weighs about 18 pounds.
You read what is written on a portrait of Pally the Pelican:
A wonderful postman is the pelican! He holds post in his beak to deliver all
week, and I don't see how in the hellican!

Leave our Postman alone