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Soren · Journeyman Joined: 03 Sep 2009 Posts: 102

Unlike previous parchments this one smells of berries and sage. It is smudged, but with cake batter instead of ore. And once again it is attached to one very large waddling beetle that answers to the name of Stormy.

Dear Adrian-Gypsy type person and friend,

I had an interesting night. That is really not even the start of it I'd say. And it occurred to me that I need to think of someone to take care of my beloved beetle should anything ever happen. I have been told that nothing is going to happen. I believe them when they say this. But you never know and I love my beetle. Bry would take care of her for me but she is deep in thoughts of skinning lizards and learning the ways of Oblivion. I think she would forget to feed her. I don't think you would however. Or perhaps, if you think I am asking too big a request, maybe the lady Gypsy, Xana would care for her if needed. Again, I have been told nothing is going to happen. But I like to know I have options in case. The Drow people seem nice. I think I will take a bag to catch what my stomach gets rid of at their next ceremony though. Can you ask Lady A'Dae for more of that elixir please. I'm not sick anymore, but I want to make sure I have it for the next event like that one. Do those happen often? Should I ask the Lady Gypsy Xana that instead?

Also, please thank Xana for the seeds. I have some for her in return I need to send. Maybe I should write her a letter as well. Oh well. I'm rambling now and her Grace, Lady Lenoir would give me a stern look for that.

Sincerely ( which should say your friend but I have been told Sincerely is manners),

Soren Calestra
Dragonstorm Artisan and Blacksmith and sometimes baker

Adrian Bishop · Adventurer Joined: 08 Oct 2009 Posts: 95

Adrian returned home from a long day of hunting. Worse, he returned empty-handed. The snow was deep in many places, and the night was suffocatingly silent. The animals were likely burrowed in for the duration of the blizzard, much like he should be. But the snowfall refreshed his perspective of the world. It made everything clean and new.

Doggedly, Adrian trudged as if through quicksand toward his tent. The camp was quiet, with lazy tendrils of smoke winding up through the snowflakes here and there. The fresh snowfall throughout the day had left his tiny tent looking more like a snow cave than his home.

He opened his pack and took out a handful of kindling, then pulled a few logs from inside the flap of his tent to start his own fire. As the warm glow grew around the fire, he heard a clicking and chattering from inside his dark tent. His eyes widened as the familiar giant blue beetle waddled out of his tent, drawn by the warmth of the fire.

“Stormy!” Adrian chuckled at the chatter that sounded like a giggle as he petted the head of the beetle. He took the letter and read it, furrowing his brow with concern. He carried it to the tent of the Rootworker, who enthusiastically loaded his arms with supplies to include. He returned and piled them in the corner of his tent, leaving the beetle to warm her backside by the fire. A basket of fruit he’d left behind was overturned, and nothing was left but stems and a few pits. He smirked as he lit a candle, sat on his bedroll and took out a stack of parchment to respond.

Dear Lady Artisan and Blacksmith (and sometimes baker) Soren,

I must admit I am flattered and honoured by your request. Please know that, should such unfortunate circumstances as you mentioned come to pass, I would be more than willing to take care of Stormy and see that she never wants for anything.

I am afraid I must admit my concern at the mere possibility of your endangerment. I have heard rumours of Umbra that undermine the current friendly and open façade that is presented by both you and Her Grace the Lady Ariana Lenoir. The thought of any harm or pain coming to you is more than I can bear. Please be safe, and please know that should any danger befall you, we would welcome you with open arms within our clans while the threat of danger passes. I am not a fighter by choice, but I am skilled. Should you need my assistance, my hand and blade are at the ready, and you would be defended.

I send with this letter warmest wishes in this time of renewal. I am also loading Stormy with four bottles of elixir and a garland from Llyrian a’Dae. The two red bottles are for general ailment, and the two pink ones specifically for nausea. The garland, I’m told, is to hang in your sleeping quarters to ensure ease of breathing as you slumber. I am also told that events like the one you referenced do not take place all that often, but perhaps next time I will attend personally to see to your safety.

I have conveyed your thanks to Lady Xana, who most humbly welcomes you. Should you need anything further, anything at all, please feel free to seek us out.

Yours most sincerely,
Adrian Bishop

~*~Affixed with melted wax is a paper snowflake nestled in tiny sparkling beads and a jingle bell~*~

Adrian allowed the beetle a long nap near the fire and gave her a couple of apples before attaching the letter and hiding the Rootworker’s supplies beneath Stormy’s wings. The beetle chattered lightly as he patted her fondly and watched her waddle off to the east with a spring and a jingle in her step.

Soren · Journeyman Joined: 03 Sep 2009 Posts: 102

Soren had woken early. She hadn't slept all that well and she was anxious to get started on the days chores. The more space she could put between herself and the other two household members, the happier she would be. Arguments, conflict and sadness was not something she handled well. Quietly she rounded the corner to her shop. Most of Umbra was still deep in slumber and the only sounds she could hear were a large inhale and exhale of massive snoring. Opening the door to her shop she found the cause of the ruckus. There, half buried in a pile of cloth scraps, next to her forge was her beloved beetle. Running over to her she grabbed her neck and nestled in.

"What kept you?" The question was soft and probing. Soren petted the beetle gently, her hands running over the shell. A tell tale clicking of happiness and filled belly was the reply and she couldn't help but laugh. Her night may have been horrible but it seemed like Stormy's had obviously been very happy. A return letter had been attached and she gingerly removed both the bell and the snowflake. She turned the paper snowflake over in her hands looking at it closely. Clutching it to her she opened the letter and began reading.

Her eyes raked over the words and a smile slowly spread across her flushed face. The sadness of the previous nights happenings was slowly replaced with joy. He had agreed to watch over her beetle. Considering the scolding she had received she was very glad she had not asked Bryelle to do it! There were many things she needed to reply to. The first of which was to thank both Adrian and Lady a'Dae for the second round of elixir's and the garland. Carefully she removed the packages from underneath Stormy's wing and carried them to the chest in the far corner of the room. She left Stormy where she was and grabbed a new piece of parchment.

"Dear Adrian- Gypsy type person and possible beetle caretaker,

I am so glad that you said you would take care of my beetle. I really believe she would be happy with you. Her Honor, the Drow Matron and the stranger of Oblivion they call Dealthagar reassured me nothing would happen. I don’t like to think they would lie to me. But I guess you never know when someone would do that, do you?

It makes me feel very warm that you would defend me. And even more so that you would sit through an event just so that I would feel better. I love to help and I love making things. These days everything I seem to enjoy is starting to get me into trouble. I’m supposed to run this letter through Bryelle before I am allowed to send it. I should, there are severe consequences for disobedience, especially if Tierna (Bryelle calls her lady britches too tight), finds out. But I just don’t want to give up my friends. Aren’t I allowed to have ones that are just mine? I guess that sounds like I think you don’t have other friends. I’m sure you do. But I don’t want to have to share you or Xana or Lady a’Dae with Bryelle. And I don’t want to share your friendship with Mistress Tierna. I understand Her Grace, Lady Ariana. I can’t say anything bad about her. She is after all the one who introduced me to the two of you. I don’t think I’m making sense any longer.

I know exactly what you mean by undercurrent. I just can't talk about it. Bryelle has now forbidden me to talk at all unless she sees it first. Knowing that, I am sending this letter anyway. Please tell Xana, the Gypsy type person that I say hello. And thank you again and thank you to Lady a'Dae for the garland and the Elixir's. You will find I have included a light blue cloak for Lady a'Dae, a deep blue dress for Xana, and I have included a new runebook of deep deep red for you with a marker to my shop. It isn't much but I always thought the little things mean the most.

Sincerely,

Soren

P.S. I hope Lady a'Dae is alright with being called Friend."

Soren attached the parchment once again to the beetle and placed the tightly wrapped parcels beneath her wings. "You need to make sure to hurry this time girl. This could be big trouble. I don't like trouble, but I have to take this last chance. So hurry and don't get caught." She stroked the beetle, listened to it's clicking and clacking in agreement and watched a decently paced waddle as it tried to obey her command out of the shop.

Adrian Bishop · Adventurer Joined: 08 Oct 2009 Posts: 95

Adrian lay face-down, buried in his bedroll. The tentflap was tied tightly, but still vibrated as the icy wind cut through the narrow gaps. The bedding was piled so thick and pulled so tightly around him that he would have looked like a giant, fat caterpillar to anyone who had seen.

The lantern oil was running low, as he had fallen asleep reading, and the flame barely pushed back the darkness in the tiny tent. No snowbirds yet beckoned the morning with song, but there was a soft thud against the flap of his tent. Adrian peered out from under the mountain of thick Umbran blankets toward the tent flap, unsure he had heard anything at all. But there it was again, slightly louder this time….THUD.

Adrian pulled his robe around him tightly to seal in any warmth he could, and untied the tent flap to investigate. As the last tie fell loose in his hand, the tent flap burst open in a giant flash of shiny blue beetle. Adrian was bowled backward into the pile of bedding behind him. Stormy, unimpressed by his unintentional acrobatics, snuffled around a crate in the corner while a letter dangled precariously from her antenna. Adrian took the letter, petted the beetle on the head, and kicked up the corner of the crate lid to expose a small pile of apples. Then he settled onto the pile of bedding to read.

Without warning, an icy blast of wind burst through the tent door and swirled around the room, nearly tearing the letter from his hands. The lantern was extinguished, and Stormy startled, dropping her third apple on the ground, mid-munch. Then the wind was gone. He narrowed his eyes, squinting in the darkness toward the door, but crumpled the letter to his chest instead of relighting the lantern.

He stalked out into the night and around to the tent of Llyrian a’Dae with Stormy on his heels. Upon explaining the night’s events, she invited them into her tent, tied the flap tightly behind him, and sprinkled a powder on the ground along the walls of the tent. She opened the lantern, tossed in a pinch of the powder, which burst into a bright crimson before disappearing into a puff of white smoke. She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear and looked to all four sides of the tent before nodding to him. Adrian nodded as well, then opened and read the letter carefully, repeating the more important parts to Llyrian. A whispered conversation ensued, as Llyrian shook her head each time Adrian tried to plead his case.

“She needs to know. I won’t let her think….”

Llyrian shook her head. “Not in a letter. Bring her here, Adrian. Anyone could get that letter.”

Adrian signed resignedly and agreed, then endeavoured to write a response as quickly as his hand would take dictation from his brain.

Dear Beetle-Loving Artisan (and occasional baker) Lady Soren,

I have news of joyful celebration that simply must be shared! Your friends, Llyrian, Xana, and I, are most thankful for the gifts that you have sent, and would like to request your company at your earliest convenience. I realize that the Her Grace the most Honourable Lady Lenoir has need of you, and we have no desire to keep you from your appointed duties. But as time permits, please come and share with as we celebrate the engagement and intended wedding of two in our clan. Your company would be most appreciated, and we promise not to keep you (much) too late!

Till soon, in song and jubilation,

Your Friend (and sometimes messenger),
Adrian Bishop

~*~Affixed to the rolled parchment are two odd-looking herbs and a curious small stick wrapped in twine~*~

Adrian turned to Stormy and petted her head gently, speaking softly to her. “Sorry, no jingle bell this time. We don’t need any more attention than we already have.” He affixed the letter to her antenna, and stepped aside as Llyrian closed her dark eyes and murmured a silent chant, placing her hand lightly upon the great beetle’s head. When they were done, Stormy turned toward the door.

“Swiftly now, Stormy,” Adrian urged. “Hasten to Lady Soren. And we will see you again soon.” With that, Stormy darted out the door and disappeared quickly into the night. More quickly than even six legs should have carried her.

Soren · Journeyman Joined: 03 Sep 2009 Posts: 102

The rotund beetle had to have traveled faster than any warrior, for she showed up at the Blacksmith shop in the main foray of Umbra in record time. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a flash of metallic blue as it streaked across the tile floor. Backing up to get a better look she landed with her newly crafted black kilt in a forge, singing her tender parts while she tried to regain her balance. "Ow," she muttered haphazardly rubbing the smoked area. Her hand still firmly on her rump, Soren finished trading in her wares and quickly looked around for any observers. It was late evening and only a handful of townsfolk were milling about. Bending down to the beetle's level Stormy reached to the antenna and removed the return parchment. "Thank you my friend for your quick return! I will get you the best slabs of raw beef you have ever seen for this!" Stormy clicked in agreement of the deal, her antenna twitching in the night wind. Stroking her shell in tender appreciation Soren began to read.

The thought of an invitation to the camp was thrilling and scary at the same time. She desperately wanted to go, but she was almost on a chain since her run in with Merrique. Perhaps while Bryelle was out hunting her lizard skins, she could manage some time. Yes, yes! A mixture of anticipation, joy and fear encased her arms and she felt a shiver run the length of her spine. She couldn't take the risk of sending another letter this time of night. She would just have to show up and hope that her timing was alright. Tomorrow night after sundown she would make her way to the camp. As a side thought she wondered who was getting married and what type of gift she should bring. After all, she couldn't show up empty handed.

Soren · Journeyman Joined: 03 Sep 2009 Posts: 102

Twenty minutes after the door closed behind her, Soren heard it open again. Peeking around the corner where she was rummaging through a chest she saw Bryelle. They exchanged only stares. What few seconds they connected seemed like hours to Soren. Breaking off the gaze Bryelle slipped her armor off her shoulders and headed for the transporter. At least this night she had gone relatively unnoticed.

- - - - -

At dawn Soren set out for the workshop. Thinking back on the night before, she remembered Adrian had done something with powder. He seemed to think it would make it safer. Maybe it was time to ask for a lesson. She had never understood magick. Metal, she understood that, and cakes and cloth. But spells and protection had never rubbed off on her. Quickly taking out a piece of parchment, she started in on a letter she knew could get her in trouble just for writing.

"Dear Adrian- Gypsy and Friend,

Thank you for having me at camp last night. Please tell Xana-The Gypsy type person I said thank you too. I made it home pretty fast. It's funny, I never thought about being unnoticed before. Now I'm glad when that happens. Does that make me a bad person?

It was nice to meet your friend, Gustav. Did he ever return from hunting his mice? Does he always ask you those questions, or was that my fault? I didn't mean to put you in an uncomfy spot. He really wouldn't like my workshop. It's funny when he turns red though, like he did when you said he fell on his fiance. I would like to meet his fiance some day. She must be a very interesting person.

I don't know any magic, but I was wondering if you can teach me the trick with the powder. You have faith in it, maybe it's something I should learn. I'll keep this letter brief so it can get out to you. If you don't want to, can you ask Lady a'Dae to teach me? It might come in handy.

Your friend and blacksmith who is looking for a new shop,

Soren

P.S. Notice how I changed the sincerely. I hope that was okay. "

Carefully and quickly Soren tied a strip of cloth around the parchment and attached it to the antenna of her precious beetle. The beetle chirped at her as if a reminder of what she was doing. Soren understood the risk but there was something in the act of writing the letter's that gave her comfort. Like a warm blanket was being thrown over her when she needed it most. As she finished attaching the the parchment she thought back on Gustav's questions of his friend. Maybe? No, she wouldn't ask that. She wouldn't even know how. "Alright girl, you go.. and hurry back." Stormy took off at break beetle speed careening around the corner and over the eastern bridge. The scent of ore and smoke once again trailing behind her.

Adrian Bishop · Adventurer Joined: 08 Oct 2009 Posts: 95

Adrian stirred the fire to life. The morning was clear, and so cold that steam eminated even from his bare skin. It was the coldest morning he had seen in years. As he leaned over the dying embers and tried to coax flame from them, he felt something strange. Eyes, watching him. He was being observed, closely. Like a bug in a jar.

The hair on the back of his neck prickled and he slowly rose. But as he did, he lost his balance. He fell, almost in slow motion, toward the fire. He could hear a clinking, or clicking…or chattering as he fell.

Adrian jerked awake. His breath fogged before him inside his tent. The cold, at least had not gone away. Nor had the feeling of being watched. He blinked twice, focusing his eyes. Two great black orbs stared at him unblinkingly, only inches in front of his nose.

“Stormy...” Adrian yawned and sat up, wishing he’d thought to put on his robe before retiring. He sprang quickly off his bedroll and dove into the robe he’d left hanging over a chairback. “You…should…learn to knock, or…something. Maybe I’ll teach you about personal space.” He patted the beetle on the head gently and took the letter, reading it carefully. The night before had not settled well with him, but at least Soren wasn’t closing herself off to them. He thought back to the conversations she mentioned and half-smiled as he took a pen and parchment, stopping to stir the fire before ducking into the tent they’d used the night before and sitting down to write.

Dear friend, and hopeful blacksmith Lady Soren,

I thank you for coming last night. The Lady Xana regrets that she could not have stayed longer, but she was feeling a bit under the weather. Lady Llyrian was off gathering rare herbs and still has not returned. The powder you mentioned is a part of the gypsy magic that Llyrian practices. She is our rootworker, and her talents range from herbalism to what you might call herbal magick. This is a lesson best taught in person, and she will need to be the one who makes that decision. I have learned precious little of her practice, and only in dire circumstances.

Gustav has not yet returned, although I am assuming the mice long ago lost his attention. He roams most nights, and sometimes does not return to the camp for days, or even weeks. Though with Lady Cezanne here in camp, he has returned much more frequently of late. I do apologize if he put you on the spot, so to speak, last night. He is a very private person and I’m afraid sometimes questions put him on the defensive. I can assure you he meant no ill in his chiding questions. But by the blush on your cheek I could see that he had overstepped his bounds.

Please keep in touch, and let me know if there is a time when you can come, and I will arrange the Lady Llyrian to speak with you regarding your inquiry. I would not hesitate to teach you myself if I did not fear I would teach you incorrectly. Till that time, please be safe. And remember my offer. Peace be with you.

Your Friend and subject of close-up beetle study,
Adrian Bishop

~*~Attached to the parchment is a small crystal nestled in a tiny evergreen bough~*~

Adrian lacked the spell that Llyrian had used to protect the last letter, as well as the speed charm that she had given Stormy the last time. He read through the letter several times to make sure he had not said far too much before attaching it to Stormy’s antenna and giving her a piece of dried beef.

“Thank you, Stormy. Be careful, girl. Careful and swift.” Stormy seemed to answer with some sort of chatter, then trotted out of the tent and disappeared into the morning fog as fast as she could waddle.

Soren · Journeyman Joined: 03 Sep 2009 Posts: 102

The deep red of Soren's hair had come unbound for the fifth time that morning. Annoyed at it's inability to stay in place she puckered up her cheeks and blew it out of her face. She placed her hands on her hips and stared at the various chests stashed haphazardly around the room. "What do you think Stormy? The left or the right side of the room?" She was answered by a matter of fact clicking. "You really think it would look better there? In the Center?" Here eyes widened as she considered the possibility. The beetle just stared at her unwavering. "Alright, we will try it your way." With an emphatic oomph, Soren put all her weight into the push of the brightly colored metal chest and shoved it against the wall. "You know girl, you could help me push. This was your idea!" The answering clack suggested another matter of fact answer and Soren could not help but bust out laughing. "You're right."

Stormy had been back for hours now. When she had arrived Soren had excitedly opened the letter and placed the accompanying crystal with the rest of the small treasures Adrian had sent her in her most treasured tiny chest at home. The one trinket that had not found it's way to that box was still firmly atop her head. She had been pouring over his words all day. What was bothering her though wasn't what he had said, it was what he hadn't said. Soren was so used to taking people at face value. This new world of politics and secrecy confused her. Her own thoughts and what if's confused her all the more. She wished everything was black and white and not the grays that seemed to keep coming up. "I need to write him back." Taking a deep breath she grabbed a piece of parchment and did just that.

"Dear Adrian, Friend and subject of beetle attention,

Don't feel bad about Gustav's questions. He really didn't overstep. I'm just not used to having to think about those things. I have questions of my own. You will be happy to know that I got a new workshop and I am in the process of moving everything over. That is going to take awhile as the Matron of the Drow is the one who helped me get it! It has a lot more space and I think you and Xana, the Gypsy type person will like it once it is finished. If it is alright with you I would like to visit either tonight or tomorrow to discuss my questions and how to do the powder. I know you said Lady a'Dae had not yet returned. Do you think she will be back in the next day or so? If not I can put off my visit. I have a lot to say. Which is funny again, as I am so used to not talking. Or was up until lately. All of it should be said in person though. Although I do love letters.

Your Friend and Mover,

Soren Calestra
Dragonstorm Blacksmith, artisan and packing expert!"

"You know what to do girl." Carefully she attached the parchment to the beetle's antenna with a leather strip and tiny replica of a blacksmith hammer. Make sure to hurry back! I need your help moving the rest of this stuff! Without another word the beetle sped along the bridge. Blowingthat same tendril of loose hair out of her face, Soren returned to the task at hand. It was going to be a long day.

Adrian Bishop · Adventurer Joined: 08 Oct 2009 Posts: 95

“Lady Soren!” Adrian raised his arm and waved as he shouted. But the wind tore the words from his lips and scattered them to the south. She led Stormy with determination away from the camp. Adrian paused near the entrance of his tent and watched after her. Perhaps she meant to return later in the evening.

Hours passed, and there was no sign of the girl. Adrian saw Llyrian carrying a lantern and a skin of water to her tent in the darkness. His curiosity won out, and he finally approached her, fearing she was about to retire for the night. “Llyrian?”

Llyrian turned, her expression softening when she looked into Adrian’s troubled blue eyes, and answered his unasked question. “She was here, Adrian. She has some thinkin’ to do, that child. I think she’s finally seen the danger she’s bringing to you by sneakin' over here.”

Adrian narrowed his eyes and spoke evenly. “What did you say to her?”

“You saw your cards as well as I, Cousin. It’s unmistakable. And that girl, runnin’ around here, bringin’ the eyes and ears of Oblivion into our camp. Into your tent!” Llyrian shook her head. “No Sir, I won’t tell a body what to do, but I also won’t let ‘em be uninformed in the doin’ of it.”

Adrian’s eyes darkened with anger and he looked back the direction that Soren had left hours earlier. “She won’t come back, you know. Not unless someone talks to her.”

Llyrian tilted her head and nodded once. “I figured you’d say that.”

Adrian fumed for a moment before turning on his heel and stalking toward his own tent again. Inside, he lit a lantern and took out parchment, settling on his bedroll to write.

Dear Lady Blacksmith, Artisan, and Packing Expert Soren,

Here, he hesitated, writing one line, then scratching it out and replacing it with another. He had scratched out four sentences when he crumpled the parchment and tossed it unceremoniously in the corner of his tent. He took out a new sheet and started again.

Dear Lady Blacksmith, Artisan, and Packing Expert Soren,

We need to talk.

Your friend,
Adrian Bishop

~*~Affixed to the rolled parchment with melted wax is a sprig of dried lavender and a tiny sunbleached seashell~*~

Adrian attached the letter to the leg of the ring-tailed hawk that stood on a perch in a central tent and sent it on its way to Umbra.

Soren · Journeyman Joined: 03 Sep 2009 Posts: 102

(Sent prior to running errands in Minoc)

Mornings tended to start out the same for Soren. It was relatively routine. Unless of course you counted drow, beetles, oblivion, late night meetings, letters and gypsies. She paused mid thought over that word gypsies and a smile appeared on her lips. It was funny she thought how things could go from so dark even a candle would be eclipsed to so bright that the dark wasn't even a shadow. Alright so she was exagerating. Light and dark still existed. Everything she worried over was right there, downstairs actually, ready to stare her in the face. And everything that kept those things at bay in her mind and in her heart was beyond the shadow doors of Restless Manor. Pinning up the sides of her instead of her normal ponytail, Soren reached down, pulled out a piece of parchment from the chest where she kept her barbed leather and began anew.

"Dear Adrian, friend and occasional card turner,

Thank you for having me in your camp once again. I am trying to do as you say to. Every time I begin to worry I try to think about something else. It happens a lot you know. But I am trying and hearing your words in my head seems to help me switch over! I am going to speak to Her Grace Lady Lenoir, if I can, in the next day or so in regards to tasks she might have available that would make the goal we talked about possible. Unless you have changed your mind? Yes, there is the worry part again. Maybe I should pinch myself to help fix that. I'm not fond of pain though. I will be in your area at some point today. I have an endless amount of errands to run and I need to get them done before I can finish moving my shop over. Also, I believe the construction on the new recycling center will be complete soon! Oh, I have so much to tell you about that!!!! I think I will want lots of time hearing your friends' stories after all that work! I finally did get the seeds from Xana, the gypsy type person. That's something to tell you about in person though when I get the next chance. Please tell Xana, I said thank you and give my best to both her and Lady a'Dae please.

Your Friend,

Soren
Dragonstorm Blacksmith and flour fetcher"

Pulling out one of the red dragon scales from her supplies she tied it to the parchment and placed it in her pocket. Humming a tune on the transporter and braving a "What got into you," glare from Mistress Tierna; Soren grabbed her list of must haves and practically danced out the double doors. Halfway there she attached the parchment to her blasted ethereal unicorn and sent it on it's way.

Adrian Bishop · Adventurer Joined: 08 Oct 2009 Posts: 95

First it was the murmurs through the city. Quiet conversations whispered in dark corners. Then the panic had begun to spread. A few shops had been closed up, boarded up, and deserted. The provisioner’s shop was a madhouse as all walks of life bought rations and supplies.

Adrian consulted with Xana and Llyrian before taking parchment and quill to the scryer’s tent and penning a quick letter.

Dear Soren,

Time is short. You are in danger. We need you to visit the tent city before you go home. Please be safe, and try not to be seen…

Peace, till soon,
Adrian

He placed it on the table before Llyrian, who smudged all four edges with a bitter-smelling herb, rolled the parchment, and wrapped twine around it thrice before tying a sprig of the bitter herb into the knot. She handed Adrian the rolled parchment, and he quickly tied it to the foot of his ring-tailed hawk. He gave instructions in a low and foreign tongue, instructing the hawk on locations to seek the girl.

Once the hawk had flown, Adrian also took flight, as fast as his horse’s hooves could carry him. He tore out of the gypsy camp into the chill of evening, lifting aloft a lantern to push back the encroaching darkness, and caring not which of them found her first.

Soren · Journeyman Joined: 03 Sep 2009 Posts: 102

Somewhere in parts unknown of Sosaria, flies a courier pigeon weighted down with a singed piece of parchment. It's tied with a strip of pale blue ribbon and has attached to it two fresh Cherry Muffins.

"Dear Adrian,

The night was calm here. Nothing happened once you left other than the wind picking up every now and then. It's funny, I wasn't in camp long but I already miss the way the lights of the fire dance underneath the moon. And I miss the smell of the smoke once they have gone out. It reminded me of my forges back at the workshop. I miss the constant chatter and the way news goes all the way through in seconds. I miss how friendly every one was. I never knew friendly people like that other than the staff of the shop. Her grace, Lady Ariana was always nice to me. But I tried not to give her a reason not to be.

I can be strong and I can do what I have to do. I promise you I can. I have to be able to. After all, I swung a hammer and a shovel every day since I was 4. But I don't want to lie. I miss Xana, I miss the camp. I think I even Miss Lady Llyrian even though I'm not sure she feels the same. And I miss you. There I said it. I probably shouldn't but I did. So there.

I hope you are safe and well wherever you are. I hope the stars I see at night watch over you. The Cherry Muffins are for you. They are room service!! I hope you like Cherry. If not the pigeon will I hope. I will be moving on today to another inn just as you told me too.

Your Friend, Your Sparrow

Soren"

Adrian Bishop · Adventurer Joined: 08 Oct 2009 Posts: 95

Adrian looked over the fresh clearing. The weather had been cooperative as he worked to build a new camp, to the point that he’d had to strip to the waist as he felled trees and split logs to lay out for firewood. It would season quite nicely by midsummer, and be usable for campfires by the time autumn set in.

He hadn’t realized how pale he had gotten during the winter months, but maybe the sun would help on a day like today. He sat on a log by the fire and tipped up an ale, reminding himself that it was made from grain – practically a health food! His hair clung in damp curls to his back, the sides tied back in a knot, and the thin braids and charms dangled, jingling, over one shoulder.

A pigeon flew over and landed on a branch above his head. Adrian looked up precariously, squinting one eye, and moved out of bombing range before resettling. The pigeon carried a parcel and a scroll, and seemed to be sizing up Adrian to decide whether he was the intended recipient. He stood and called it down. It fluttered down to the log and allowed Adrian to remove the parcel and scroll before fluttering up to the tree again. He read through the note and unwrapped the muffins. The first he ate ravenously, having to brush the crumbs from his beard afterward. The pigeon, he noticed, watched the tiny crumbs fall, and he pinched off a bit of the other muffin and crumbled it on the end of the log. The pigeon was overjoyed, nearly crashing to the ground in its attempt to tackle the morsels. The rest of the muffin was wrapped up and packed away with the meager rations that Adrian had brought with him.

Parchment….of course. I knew I’d forget something…Adrian uttered an oath and sighed, looking around him. He took a log that hadn’t burned through in the last fire and split off chunks of the charcoal until he found one of suitable size and shape. He whittled it to a point with his dagger and turned over the letter to write on the back side.

Sparrow,

I’m so glad to hear that your night was uneventful. In days like these, uneventful means safe, and safe means you will wake to face another hopefully uneventful day. I am sorry this is so hard on you. You weren’t meant to be sequestered in an inn. But you also weren’t meant to be locked in your quarters to await the fall of Umbra, and die in the aftermath. Someday you’ll spread your wings and fly, creating a life that is to your liking, and all your own. But for now, Fortune smiles on us as long as you are kept secret and hidden away from those who would do you harm.

The room service was much appreciated! There’s only so far that dried venison can take a man’s stomach. I’d never had cherry muffins, only those made from the wild berries of the forest. It was a welcome change. The pigeon had his share as well. Can’t send the little guy home on an empty stomach now, can I? Pidgy and I send our fondest thanks.

I will be a while longer working here. The clearing is coming along, and soon I will have enough timber to build shelter. I’m afraid that, for now, it will be nothing like the cabins and inns you’re used to. But it will be safer, and if by my sweat and blood I can protect the people I care about, it’s worth a bit of sacrifice. Some people live all their lives and never know a roof or a full stomach. We should count ourselves blessed.

Till soon, take care of yourself. If you should catch wind of Umbrans in Skara Brae, you should probably move on to another city. Bryelle will be looking for you. Please be safe.

Peace be with you,
Your Friend, and sometimes birdfeeder,
Adrian

~*~The parchment is rolled and tied with a piece of twine and one of the tiny silver feathers from his hair~*~

Adrian rolled the parchment with Soren’s writing on the outside, to keep the charcoal from rubbing off in-transit, and tied it to the leg of the pigeon. The bird, still in a drunken stupor from his feast of crumbs, took some prodding, but finally flew off on his way. Adrian smiled as he watched it go. “From whence you came – You know where to find her.”

Soren · Journeyman Joined: 03 Sep 2009 Posts: 102

Soren stood on her tiptoes and leaned over the wooden slats of the stable pen. Holding out a cut of ribs and a handful of grapes there was a blur of bright blue as her beloved beetle charged, mouth gaping open, straight for the food. She should have known better than to offer it that way as now she was once again on her backside, on a dirt floor and being smothered by Stormy. "Get... (breath).... Off... (breath)... Me..(breath)... Please... (breath)... Girl... (breath)." Clattering and smacking in an apologetic tone echoed off the wooden walls as Stormy's form retreated to just past the gate line of the pen. Grabbing onto one of the posts, Soren pulled herself up and dusted off her dress and apron. "I'm sorry I haven't had you out of here much. Soon I promise." Lovingly she stroked her hard head.

The stables of Minoc were along way from an Inn in New Haven. She had thought about moving Stormy and decided not to. Minoc was home now. She knew it and Stormy knew it. Moving her around all the time wasn't going to do her any good. And keeping her there meant one less thing she was going to worry about. And right now she was worried about a lot. Adrian had told her not to. That had gone out the window the minute she stepped outside Gypsy territory knowing it would be more than a few hours until she could come back. "Soon girl." Reluctantly, Soren said goodbye and headed for the nearest moongate. She was just about to step through the brightly lit portal when she noticed a familiar pigeon circling above. Putting her hands up to block out the sun she watched as the bird curved and glided on the wind. Ten minutes of following the pigeon in circles made her dizzy and she had to look down.

That must have confirmed with the bird that she was the person who had sent him out to begin with because he flapped his wings and drifted down to sit beside her on the grass. The pigeon blinked it's eyes and tilted it's head to the left firmly pushing the piece of parchment out to her. Carefully she untied the letter and read it over, twirling the tiny silver feather in her fingers. When she finished reading she took the feather and placed it in her hair. The contrast of the silver against the deep red made her standout even more on the knoll of green. Taking her finger she reached to stroke beneath the pigeon's beak. Happily the bird nudged and pushed against her fingertips wanting more. Scooting her hand down to the claws of the bird she coaxed it onto her hand and completed her trip through the moongate.

Bird literally in hand, Soren made her way down the dirt path to New Haven. Her thoughts drifted back to the incident with the Dragon and the bull. Yet another moment when she had ended up on her backside. Not once, but twice in the same day. She had history here. Both Soren and Pidgy, as Adrian had affectionately named the bird, checked into the Gentle Rest Inn. And Pidgy gave a satisfied chirp when Soren immediately ordered a selection of pastries, cheeses and breads from the dining area. Taking a piece of pale blue cloth out of her pack, Soren gathered up bits of each of the baked goods and tied them with a piece of leather. She looked at Pidgy and sized up his weight to make sure she would not be weighing the bird down too much. "I don't want you falling out of the air.," she said smiling softly. Carrying bird and parcel to the nearest desk she sat down and penned a quick return note.

"My Birdfeeder,

Stormy sends her best. I stopped in Minoc on my way out of Skara Brae today to see her. I gave her grapes. She knows those only come from you. I know that Minoc really isn't on the way to New Haven, which is where I am now. But I wanted to see her. They take good care of her there but she needs to know I did not forget about her. I'm afraid I owe Minoc Stables a new pen. Stormy broke it trying to get to the grapes. Oh and the ribs. But that's another story I guess. I have attached some cheese and bread this time instead of muffins. I'll make sure I feed Pidgy before I send him back to you. If possible I want to stay here a few days. I love the blacksmith and tailor shops here. And the bank is nearby!!!! I wonder what it's like to fish! Can you fish? Maybe when this is over you can teach me. And those card reading things too.

There is so much out there to see and do. When this is over I will keep my roots in the camp and my wings in all of Sosaria. What do you think? What should we do first? Can I say we?

Your Sparrow"

Tying up the note with another piece of leather Soren attached it to the other leg of Pidgy and fed him a good sized hunk of pale white cheese. Pidgy's eyes blinked widely as he accepted the morsel. When he had finished Soren carried him out the front door and waited for the bird to lift off from her hand. Finally on the third try, Pidgy got completely into the air and headed off just below the cloud line.

Adrian Bishop · Adventurer Joined: 08 Oct 2009 Posts: 95

Let’s face it, I look like hell…Adrian looked over his bare arms and chest at the many scratches and cuts and scrapes he’d incurred while clearing away brush and trees to build the new camp. His face was red, burned by the wind and the heat from brushfires. Even now, he stood surrounded by the few remaining fires, burning hotly as they had been for days. But it’ll all be worth it in the long run…

He heard a scraping in the bushes behind him and turned, hand on his dagger, to face it. The sound stopped for a few seconds, then started up again. As Adrian approached the sound, it paused again. He pulled away a fern frond and found one very bedraggled grey pigeon dragging a pouch of bread and cheese. Quickly, he picked up the bird and untied the letter and pouch, allowing the pigeon to rest on the end of a fallen log as Adrian opened and read the letter. He opened the pouch and took out a piece of bread, sprinkling the crumbs in front of the pigeon so it wouldn’t have to move far.

Adrian sighed heavily and read the letter again, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. He shook his head slowly and folded the letter, placing it in his pack. He looked to the expectant pigeon and sat down on the log beside him. “Maybe you’d like a rest, Pidgy. Care to keep me company for a few days? That was a mighty heavy load you were carrying.” He looked back toward his pack and the letter tucked just inside. “Mighty heavy….”