The #Broken_Dagger Forum

The messenger sent to visit Sawyer also carried with him a second letter. Those same strict instructions were given to him, to present the letter to know other person than a red-haired glasses wearing elf named Darrin. However the woman who had sent on the letter couldn't give him a much clearer address than "just wander around a bit, you're bound to see him sooner or later". A little annoyed the messenger would do that, wait around to try to find this elf. He hated jobs like this.

Thankfully, it wouldn't take too long. The elf was indeed out and about, and enjoying the rain, despite its ferocity. Most of his time was being spent in the library, these days.. the roof wasn't in such great condition, and it was driving poor Kirillorne batty. She'd kept him busy moving books from under leaks and getting buckets beneath them instead. But when he could, he stepped outside to turn his face up to the sky, letting the rain scour it.

So, when the messenger found him, he thanked the boy, gave him a little something extra for his trouble, and headed back to the library to dry off and read...

As he stood and read, the elf's countenance remained impassive. When he was finished, he folded the note and tucked it away, eyes moving aimlessly behind his glasses in thought.

He'd finally found a disadvantage to trying to keep a low profile; if she'd known about the speed with which he could move, maybe she wouldn't have been so sure that he couldn't catch up with her. Actually.. The elf whirled and shoved back out into the rain, squinting, looking for the messenger through those gold-tinted glasses of his..

He still had an obligation to fulfill, but he could be gone and back within a day.

The messenger would be untying his horse at the stables, muttering away to himself as he goes

"Blasted women.. sendin' me o' in tha middle o' tha pourin' rain... where's tha bleedin' elf live I says... oh.. jus' go lookin' aroun' she says! Lookin' around where.. in the bloody rain tha's where.. sick an' tired o' gettin' all these wretched assignments I am."

Of course the stables.. where else?

"Alright, then," the elf interrupted the messenger's monologue, appearing out of the rain. "How about an easy one? Tell me where you recieved the letter you just delivered to me, and I'll pay you the price of the delivery again for your trouble."

The elf was smiling, pleasantly. Maybe this would work after all..

"Pay me tha delivery again?! Almos' makes it worth it then. Ain' no skin off o' me nose if'n I tell ye where the letter came from. Little place not too far off, 'tween here an' New Daun'less. Called Tresla... lass who sent the letter stayin' at a place called Jack's tavern. Gimme me coins then, tha's abou' all I be knowin'"

The man would grin and extend his hand for the coins. Once paid he'd be off and on his way, humming rather than grumbling this time. Nothing like being paid twice for the same amount of work!

"Wait five minutes, and you'll have three more fees for your trouble," the elf informed the messenger. A large book was withdrawn from his mantle, and he tore two pages from it, each with a picture of a woman drawn in charcoal; one was Sawyer, the other, Calandra.

Upon the back of the first, he wrote, simply, 'I'm going to try to catch Janessa. I'll be back within a day, two at most. I'll seek you out then.' He then signed it, folded the page over so the drawing was on the outside, and sealed it with an interesting stamp taken from his vest.

Upon the second, he wrote, 'I'm leaving for a day, perhaps two. I haven't forgotten my obligation to you--I will return.' He signed the second one as well, folded it similarly so the art faced out, then sealed it the same way.

He took a moment to eye the missives, nodding, and then handed them to the messenger, producing the promised three fees in his other hand. "The first goes to this lady, staying in a certain room at the Broken Dagger. Her name is Sawyer. Leaving it under her door should suffice." He names the room number. "Try not to stare at her," he adds, with a little smile. From the drawing, it would be obvious why that mattered.

"The second goes to this lady, named Calandra. She stays at.." He gives the location of Tyralor's home, silently hoping that the half-elf doesn't have any nasty surprises for unannounced visitors. "You're likely to encounter another elf at the door. Do try to deliver personally to Calandra, but if she is unavailable, he will do."

"And the third fee.. is to keep quiet about all of this. I don't want any of them following me. No mentions of my name. Make your exits with haste after you have delivered. If you can manage that, you'll have my patronage again," the elf promises.

That done, he turned to dash off into the rain once more. Kirillorne wouldn't be too happy to hear of his absence.. but it wouldn't be that long.

It would be an interesting task, for the messenger to arrive at the half-elf's abode. The half-elf had long ago, come across an ancient ruin. At one point, there had been others that had considered Myrken their home, and the half-elf resided beneath the crumbling ruins of one of their ancient cathedrals. Little enough remained of the ruins themselves. The remains of the roof collapsed downwards, and the walls that were still standing were covered with ivy and moss. Lumps of stone remained of a few of the towers that'd once marked the corners of the cathedral, and another lingered in a significant state of disrepair. The last, had a rather unremarkable oak doorway, tightly sealed underneath a menacing gargoyle.

The most difficult aspect for would be messengers and those idly passing by this long neglected corner of Myrken were the denizens that Tyralor had evicted from the rooms that he now called home. They were a hungry lot, disturbed in their eternal rest. While intelligence had long bled from their minds, they were left with a bestial cunning, and a hunger for warm blood. The rogue had spent many meticulous hours, convincing these ravenous ghouls that he was not prey, and those regularly found in his company would earn them equal viciousness. Nonetheless, most folk knew to make an approach during the daylight hours. Particularly those that wished to also make a departure.

With the storm clouds overhead, the difficulty was, exactly what constituted daylight hours.

"Sawyer? Already been ta tha' ladies' place... nice 'nuff I 'spose." The lad would comment, collecting the other letter as well. "Leave here in a haste? no skin off o' me nose abou' tha'... righ' strange place this is."

And with that the messenger would be off. He'd return to where he had met Sawyer before to deliver this new letter, and then next it would be off to the second address he had been given. Young eyes would fall on the rather forboading appearance of Tyralor's home and he'd shudder. The boy was no adventurer, hadn't even an ounce of heros blood in him.

"Like 'ell I'm goin' in there amidst all tha'... place is spooky 'nuff as it is." The boy would look around to make sure he wasn't being watched and then takes a large stone, plunking it down over the letter in the middle of the path, far away enough to not have to worry about the creatures. "There.. letter done be delivered an' I 'ave me 'ead." He'd brush off his hands casually as he heads back down the path whistling, the letter now subject to the rain, the weather and of course whoever would come across it.