Letters, brief and fast:

[Carnath-Emory]

Both of them penned with the Rememdium's own supply of ink and paper, and set into the hand of a lad instructed to move with all haste, ignoring what few concerns regarding courtesy and late hours which he might retain.

To Darkenhold gates, some brief thing expressing a swordswoman's presence at the Rememdium itself, on account of no personal injury at all. For Glenn Burnie at Esreaux, indication that a morning's lessons will be missed, to continue again the next day. For Governor Calomel, however...
[INDENT]
Housed in the Rememdium Edificium is a concern of which you ought be aware.

- Ariane[/INDENT]

[Cinnabar]

Typical of the swordswoman; a message so terse, so urgent, and yet so singularly lacking in details, in explanation, in anything that might hint at whatever it is that this concern involves.

And yet what can he do but trust that she will not waste his time with trivialities, that this truly is something of which he ought to be aware. He can ascribe it perhaps to her ironclad sense of discretion, of her wariness of having such a note read by others, even of her notorious frustration with words that will not obey her in conveying what she means.

So it's some short while after that note finds its way into Calomel's hands that he in turn finds his way to the Rememdium, a pleasant but brisk greeting to the healers on duty, and an inquiry as to anything there of which Miss Emory felt he ought to be aware. Because there are some things that one must trust.

[ShadowRose]

Amid confused healers came one, a Miss Nurse Fairwell, who offered the Governor a caring, yet shy smile.

"Concerns?" she began, her brown eyes turning inquisitive for a long moment. "No, none that I can think of. Is.." she paused while the others whispered to themselves--perhaps there was a concerned hidden behind those kind and helping faces. ".. this about the dark elf?"

And perhaps that was all the information he needed.

[Cinnabar]

Unfortunately the Governor can only shrug uncertainly, perhaps growing less patient with the swordswoman's vagueness as nothing seems to be obviously awry. Not on first inspection, anyway.

"I'm really not sure, to be honest. I was told that there was some matter here which I ought to be aware, and nothing more than that. Is the dark elf a concern?"

Huh. A drow in the Rememdium. Well, Constables hadn't been summoned by the staff themselves, which would imply against the dark elf being an urgent concern. For now.

[ShadowRose]

Nurse Fairwell took a moment to ponder the situation, and ultimately shrug her shoulders. "No, she is not a concern. In fact, with all of the increased attacks from the Ashfiend, our load has been.. well, overwhelming. Sarayn has helped us tremendously. We're all surprised."

She smiled a becoming thing and indicated with the slight sweep of her hand, "Please, Governor. Feel free to look about. It would no doubt lighten the hearts of the sick if you would albeit briefly visit with them. Please let me know if you need anything else. I must return to my duties."

And with a curtsey, she wandered off.

[Kait]

At midmorning there is another letter penned by a hand that struggles to be brief and keep back much sentiment and worry from the flurry of scrawled words. To a small house in Myrkentown, this day time messenger is sent, with his own sense of urgency gleaned from the state of the author and the look of those tired features as she asks to add one thing more to this letter before he is away.

"Ma'am," to the older woman who opens a sturdy door, and he is allowed time to say nothing more as wrinkled fingers have already snatched the letter away. He waits as she reads, and relaxes his own posture when the frowning woman slumps with a sigh of relief.

"Stay boy. I've a reply and some errands for you to tend to on your way back there." Obviously from the way the door slams in his face, he is not to be invited inside to wait. The minutes pass with a great deal of shuffling and mumbling to be the messenger's only clues that the woman has not yet dropped dead (Gods rest her dour soul,) and then she will dignify him with her presence one more to hand over: a letter, a list, a small paper-wrapped bundle of what he takes to be clothing, a small pouch with the tell-tale jingle of coinage, and a handful of shillings for his own pockets.

"Be quick about it now, every last thing on that list is to be with you when you deliver that letter. Oh, and that purse is counted, you may be sure of that, so don't go helping yourself to a fatter tip." With that the disagreeable old bat slams her door shut once more, leaving a more stunned than offended messenger to his work.

He does not return to the Remedium until late afternoon, and then his arrival is laden with a jumble of assorted small packages and the remainder of that purse to be delivered with the woman's reply. The messenger departs with a smirk of satisfaction and another tip drawn from the coins he was warned against taking, if only because he knows it would vex the old lady that they had been given so freely.