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Crowfeather
 
PostPosted: Thu, Dec 22 2016, 9:35 AM 

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Written in Gnim [Gnomish] in a flowery and artistic hand is a simple note, left with the nearest representative. The envelope and note are made from a good grained paper of barrelstalk fibers; the ink is a glowing vibrant pink ... one wonders how the author got such a bright ink, or not, considering it is being addressed to one of Gnomekind, even an Underdark one at that. The wax melted to seal the note is simple, but bears the aroma of a pleasant scented fungus; the mark in the seal seems to be that of a stylized moth, wings outspread.

To the Esteemed & Honorable Meonyc, greetings.

I am a new resident of the Stalactite District; no doubt you have already heard of my unusual arrival here as I am not a Svirfneblin, but of Glouran lineage. It is my wish to better service our district's needs. To this end I request that we speak at some point at your earliest convenience to discuss these matters. I understand times and the status of trade are dire and I believe I can assist the Svirfneblin kin and the residents of this district.

~Samcroi, Linthar D'aron-Sut'rinos of Rek'larst d'Tirthi


Edit: // OOC After Christmas probably best for availability. Have a Merry Season :mrgreen:

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Lutra
 
PostPosted: Sun, Dec 25 2016, 12:22 PM 



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The Svirfneblin Chieftain sends a response.

Samcroi, Linthar D'aron-Sut'rinos of Rek'larst d'Tirthi,

I would be happy to speak with you at your earliest convenience.

~Meonyc of the Lense

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Crowfeather
 
PostPosted: Sat, Jan 07 2017, 0:48 AM 

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The lovely winged figure oft seen about the Rek'larst d'Tirthi is spotted notably once again, speaking with the Chieftain of the Svirfneblin, Meonyc of the Lens, in the center of that district. After a while she concludes the discussion, perhaps looking a tad unbalanced, and crosses the bridge to the main settlement and searches out a few well-established mushroom patches. As time passes she seems to have regained her composure, though she glances towards the Svirfneblin settlement once or twice with a speculative mien.

How interesting, she murmured to herself. Then her wings fluttered behind her, and she turned back to begin harvesting.

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