Notes to Home

A letter arrived in Allemantheia to one of the deeper grand apartments and homes of the elven elite. A servant nearly as dapper of the men he cared for left the folded origami of lovely printed paper upon the desk of one master.

Arellon,

I do hope this letter finds you and the others well. I do apologize for the tardiness in replies, but I never knew what to expect when arriving in Velika. No sooner had I settled than the federation seemed to have need of a healer. An island has appeared from the heart of the ocean, strange in so many ways. As if it had always been yet never found. Risen from the waters and teeming with life, yet all around it is hollowed dropping into nothingness. I am unsure if any have traveled far enough over the cliffs to find where the ocean finally ends.

Of course, I did not send this letter to merely speak of things you certainly know of already. I doubt the news of the far lands and this federation remain outside of your scrutiny. But there has been an interesting twist. I do ask you not impart this to my mother. Undoubtedly, she would not understand, assuming the very worst of my morals and standing.

The Valkyon have endless goals all for the good of this fine federation. They play at conquest, even go so far as to say it is protecting the world from the would be dangers. Frankly, a great deal of it is all so boring. I would much rather spend my time elsewhere than their tedious demands. It was that sentiment that led me to find new company.

I have embarked on a different journey than we first spoke of. I met a few Castanics, surprising as that is. We have formed a company, young still but with a chance of promise. The long goal it seems revolves around import and export. All well and good.

But the mastermind of this endeavor seems to have another idea. Strange as it seems, this Castanic fancies bringing an exotic taste to Allemantheia. I would say it a maddening idea, but I thought if any would have a clear understanding or consideration to give, you may. He wishes to open a brothel, private as the Mysterium chambers for the elven to indulge their desires.

He wishes to meet and discuss such opportunities, as well as make connections into the business affairs of our own.

If you fancy a trip abroad and a possible venture, do reply. If nothing else, the waters and sunshine here are far different and a welcome change if only for a holiday.

In care,
Voriel

(may look something like this, with multiple pieces being letters etc)

Deft fingers made the paper flower bloom; unfurling petals revealed words until the folded paper was laid open, smoothed flat against the desktop by the pass of a hand.

A window spanned the far end of the chamber from wall to wall, a thin sheet of water running continuously down its outer surface, making the green vista of the garden beyond gently waver. Aurellon slowly paced its length as he read by the rippling light.

When finished, he carefully folded the piece along its creases until it became a furled blossom again. Tucking the folded letter into an inner pocket of his robe, the elf sat himself at a desk carved from wood as pale as ivory, and began to pen a reply.


Voriel,

It gladdens to hear of you at last. We had such concerns when you left on your sojourn in search of opportunity abroad. And it seems we were right to do so.

None can fault our new allies' commitment nor zeal in service to the Federation; neither can one disregard that the Castanics' fiery natures oft result in hasty decisions and ill-prepared ventures. This alone would raise question of whether your choice to invest yourself in this nascent enterprise was prudent.

But now I find my reservations fully realized by this proposition you bring before me - I cannot even pen the notion to repeat it. If this is indicative of the company's ambitions, then truly your involvement was ill-judged.

I shall not bring word of this to your mother; I could not bear to lay upon her the weight of despair for her only daughter's integrity and virtue. Not while opportunity yet exists to reform. It is for this reason that I now journey to Velika.

Be thankful that I come alone - though I will not refrain from calling upon the full circle of my fellows if I deem necessary. I pray my counsel alone will be sufficient.

-- Aurellon

Addendum: You may tell your patron that I will indulge his desire for an introduction. I would see the sort of man who would think to solicit my complicity in such matters.


While the words inked were stern, the countenance of the elf who writ them was serene, perhaps the hint of an amused smile pulling at the corners of his mouth and eyes. Having addressed an envelope and sealed the letter within, Aurellon flexed his fingers and leaned back in his chair.

"Anders." The name brought forth a young elf waiting attendance with the stillness and silence of a statue. Clad in the supple, stylized leathers favored of Allemantheia, and with a sword on each hip, he was too militant to be a servant - and too servile to be military.

"See this couriered with haste to Velika. I want it to actually arrive before we do."

The young elf bowed his head as he accepted the letter. Without raising his eyes, he asked, "This one begs to ask, what business takes you beyond Allemantheia, master Constellas?"

"Just that," the elder elf replied with a thin smile. "Business."

For long minutes, Voriel just pouted reading the letter over and over. Arawn had spied the parchment that unfolded, raising a brow but thinking it best not to press. He simply pushed across a glass, and kept writing with flourishes and his ever present grin.

With a tiny huff, she made a little space and prepared to reply.

"Letter from home?" He had to know. She never looked this put out before.

Her eyes glanced up, then back to the page. "Quite. But from someone that shall be meeting you soon. My uncle Aurellon. I sent word of your interest in the refined brothel in Allemantheia. He is most...intrigued in meeting my patron and reminds me of my mother, and a veiled threat of bringing all of my uncles."

They both scribbled away at their parchment.

"And this is bad?"

"That depends on their mood, you could say. Either they will seek to tear apart the building in anger, or challenge you with a rousing party to experience your Castanic ways." Something of her voice held a touch of...humor? He laughed, and she could not help but smile in return. But she knew from rumor alone, a few of her uncles were just terrible when adventuring!

"When shall I expect your uncle?" His pen laid aside, flipping through a ledger.

"That entirely depends, but I imagine...shortly. I doubt this letter with arrive before he does."

Dear uncle,

I do often think upon mother, and hold her best of intentions close to my heart. But I sought this journey to broaden my sights. I do hope that is something you can appreciate.

Of course, my chosen company can seem terribly inappropriate. But I have learned a great deal of other cultures, seen a new world, and have tasted such a few excellent delicacies. Please, I ask you not to think ill of me until we can meet. I take your concerns and warnings to heart.

As to my patron, Arawn, he is most intrigued and eager for your arrival. Preparations shall be made. I do so look forward to seeing you, uncle. It has been far too long.

Voriel