In-Character E-mail 1
Darkplane Descending In-Character Email # 1
Tobias Orindel – played by Adam
Vashvari Gahnalende – played by Mike
Ichtaca Ollin – played by Jared
NPC’s – played by Kristy
Professor Ayelsheth Jennish has invited everyone to an early breakfast in his office at the Abrianna University in Athelshoth. The third-floor office is cluttered, but well-furnished and roomy, with wood paneling, shelves of books and papers, models, taxidermy, and wide windows overlooking the palace gardens across the street. A door in his office opens into his apartment, with a washroom, a latrine, an unmade bed, piles of laundry and more overloaded, poorly organized, bookshelves.
As you each arrive, Professor Jennish sits at a small table on the balcony, pouring a steaming beverage into mugs. A tray of cheeses, fruit, hot buttered bread, and honey is set out before him. Sitting across from him is a man Vash recognizes, Losoran Anelathem the Eladrin diplomat who had attended the conference he stormed out of. Losoran is a tall and athletic eladrin man, wearing expensive blue silk robes worked over in intricate embroidery with what seems to be real silver thread. He also sports silver jewelry, including a circlet and an amulet set with sapphires. Professor Jennish is a study in opposites, a short man with an average build. His wild grey hair bushy and unkempt, a patched vest lies open over a loose linen shirt with long, loose sleeves gathered in at the wrist. His dark trousers are simple, and his boots scuffed. He wears a few pieces of gold jewelery, but they are understated for the heathfolk style of the region. The skin around his bright green eyes are delineated with a pattern of dark umbers. (This might look like makeup or tattoos to the uninitiated, but most of you would realize that these markings are natural skin pigmentation for the heathfolk.)
As the first of you enter the room, Losoran falls suddenly silent, and turns a stony-eyed glare on you. Ayelsheth, however, waves you over to the table, and promptly pours you a mug full of shlekocha, a spicy-sweet drink made from hot fermented sheep’s milk and honey.
Vash enters the office after Professor Jennish invites him in and looks around briefly, noting the presence of the Eladrin ambassador, before bowing to both the professor and the ambassador. “My name is Vashvari Gahnalende, thank you for inviting me this morning professor. I have a number of things I’d like to discuss with you. I must say though, I was surprised to receive your invitation, I have not made many friends in this town since arriving.” Vash then makes his way to the table and begins fixing himself a plate.
The Ambassador’s lip curls slightly, his stare withering as his eyes rake over Vash. He turns his gaze pointedly back to Professor Jennish. “Surely this isn’t the talent you were referring to. I’d almost rather do it myself.”
Professor Jennish snorts, handing Vash the mug. “Now, Losoran,” he chides in an amused tone. “Your manners are suddenly suffering. Hardly in keeping with the reputed Fey charm.” His eyes twinkle as he turns to Vash. “Sit down, friend. Sit. Please ignore my companion’s churlish demeanor. He hasn’t had nearly enough shlekocha yet, especially for this unnatural hour.”
“I doubt that.” The eladrin wrinkles his nose at his untouched mug with cold distaste. He shoves it away roughly. “Gods! It’s barely past the eighth bell, Ayelsheth, and you’re already clouding your mind. Where’s your nursemaid?”
“My brilliance requires lubrication.” Unruffled, Ayelsheth drinks deeply. “And don’t let the boy hear you call him that. His glare might singe off those delicate eyebrows.”
The eladrin smiles slightly at the comparison to his companion’s full mane and bushy eyebrows. All trace of warmth leaves his angular features as he looks back at Vash, however. “So, tell me, Bolethil. (The Losandrae word for Dregs, a common pejorative for the Drow.) Does it actually surprise you that you’ve not found friends in the northlands?”
“Surprise me? No.” Vash forces his face to show no outward malice before turning back to the ambassador. “I only knew of the famous Chayrshellech curiosity and hoped to find someone who might be more knowledgeable than the scholars of our people. I see you hold the same regard for Eladrin physicians, ambassador, which must have also brought you to this conference. I am glad the leaders of our people have decided to seek assistance for something so beyond their own powers. I hope we can work together to find a solution to the wasting disease that has afflicted our people.” Vash outwardly ignores the ambassador’s obvious baiting and continues to eat.
Footsteps come sounding from the open door, and Tobias’ thin form appears in the doorway. “Sorry I’m late, Professor, I got caught up working on-” his sentence cuts off when he sees the company his professor is keeping. He quickly takes note of the tense feeling between the two eladrin. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize… perhaps I should come back later?”
Professor Jennish beckons, setting out a plate beside him and heaping it with food. “No, come in, boy, this matter concerns us all.”
Staring at Vash with renewed interest, the ambassador grunts, his face bitter. “I don’t see how. The dream-fever discussions seem to be the lowest in priority, even though our cities are full of the dead and dying.” He turns his glare to Athelshoth now. “Your much-vaunted experts are overrated, friend. Their discussing the heavens and the gods every day, in all three universities, but the next panel discussion on the illness topic has been put off for two weeks. The research team didn’t come back with their data, and the key expert didn’t bother to make the trip south.” He looks intently at Vash, as if trying to peer into his soul. “You, meanwhile, claim to be here looking for a cure? You’re sure you’re not just running from the mobs? A growing majority of our people are blaming the Bolethil for the plague.”
Tobias enters the room and sits in a corner chair, but addresses the ambassador: “Surely you must agree that astronomical events, which affect the entire world, are more worthy of the attention of such great minds than a disease which affects only a small region? Do you not admit that it is the more pressing concern?”
Losoran’s blue eyes flash fury as he stands, turning towards the young man. “You would not say so if the plague was taking your people, your family, human! A healthy man with no more than a mild fever might worsen in the night and die before morning! Others burn long, waking up each morning with more and more of their mind gone! My wife doesn’t recognize me, doesn’t remember her own children!” His voice drips with angry venom. “My daughter, perhaps was more fortunate. Her memory loss came overnight. She died within two days of the first flush of fever! Our priests can do nothing!” His fingers are clenched into fists, shaking at his sides. “So don’t you sit there and tell me pretty lights in the sky are of greater concern!”
“For all you know, my lord ambassador,” Tobias says, the words reeking of disrespect, “those pretty lights may well be related to your plague. Evidence seems to link them to more than one or two strange phenomena. Hell, it might even explain the impotence of your priests.” Tobias folds his arms, defiantly. “Though my money’s on a much simpler explanation for that,” he says with a smirk.
“Simple. Right. What’s your theory, overlarge fireflies? Anuyet!” Losoran sneers. He takes a few deep breaths, then gets his breathing under control and turns away. “This is your current favorite, Athelshoth? I’m hardly impressed.” He glances back and forth between Tobias and Vashvari speculatively. “These two children are your ‘Promising talent’? Who’s up next for our little task force, a trained dancing bear?”
“Trust me.” Professor Jenneth comes over and presses a hot mug into the eladrin’s long fingers. “My instincts are never wrong. Well, hardly ever.”
The ambassador drinks deeply despite his obvious distaste for the beverage, wrinkling his nose as he swallows. “Clearly I was wrong. It’s not too early to get drunk after all.”
Vash raises an eyebrow at Losoran’s “running from the mobs” comment, but seems relieved that Tobias interrupted before he had to answer that particular question. After listening to the exchange between the others he leans toward Athelshoth, “Are we waiting for someone else then?”
“Two someones.” He smiles. “Ah, and here they are!”
Ichtaca walks in, looking embarrassed, led by one of the most beautiful women Tobias or Vash has ever seen. She is a heathfolk with waist-length dark brown hair, smoky green eyes, and ivory skin. Her simple vest accentuates a slim waist and ample curves. She wears snug dark trowsers and a loose linen shirt, but none of the traditional gold jewelery Tobias has come to expect from heathfolk women. Her fingers are smudged with ink, and more has rubbed off in a dark streak across her cheek and rose.
“Here’s your barbarian, father. It seems he got lost in the southern complex-” she begins, then sees the eladrin ambassador. “Uncle Losoran!” She cries, and throws her arms around his neck in a hug.
Losoran breaks into the first genuine smile any of you have seen on his face. “Lyda! Look at you, you’re even taller than last year! You’re huge!”
“Er…And even lovelier than ever!”
Her smile fades suddenly as she adds, “I was so sad when I got your letter. Alindre, and then your wife… I’m so sorry.” She hugs him again, and he looks uncomfortably toward the near strangers in the room, patting her back awkwardly and trying to hide the moisture welling up in his eyes.
“Yes, well, we can talk about that later, child. There is a matter of business we are discussing-”
“Of course.” She moves quickly past Tobias to take a chair against the wood-paneled wall, the scent of spiced vanilla lingering behind her.
The ambassador quirks one delicate golden eyebrow. “Wait, what’s this? Athelsheth, surely you don’t mean to include the child in…this will be dangerous!”
The petite heathfolk woman laughs. “I’m hardly a child, uncle.”
From the breakfast table, Professor Jennish waves a fork towards the ambassador.
“Right, then. Shall we explain ourselves?”
Tobias nods and offers a small smile to Lyda as she passes. “Would you, Professor?” he asks. “I must confess, I’m most confused about what’s going on.”
This conversation was continued in-session. Good job everyone! Action points all around!