3. Letters from Spellweaver

Letters from Spellweaver


  • Messengers are again seen delivering letters to all City Offices and Dignitaries.

    Dearest Notable,

    It is with mixed emotions I must report that our beloved Keeper Aleum Kumma has ceded his post. Chaevre Valen, Knight of the Cerulean Stars and Notable merchant of the City of Peltarch and other less notable realms will serve as the Keeper of Spellweaver.

    Anyone seeking audience with the Keeper to discuss diplomatic ties are to contact Arien Ashald, Envoy to the City of Peltarch.

    May the Light of Siamorphe's Chalice Shine on You all,

    Lady Arien Ashald


  • ::Varen Rivera is seen laughing and smiling:: Hah! A new head-master of spellweaver? What they really need is a new chef! I didn't see a single one of those spellweavers eating any kind of noodles whatsoever. Tut tut tut. ::Sighs sadly:: And I think I would make a lovely noodle chef too. I mean really, my mom always told me that I made the best darn noodle soup in all of faerun! Really, she did. Of course, that was before her untimely death, I mean.. ::Sighs again:: Who'd of thought my noodle soup would be high in cholesterol? Her poor heart couldn't take it.. regardless, my dad kept on eating them. He's still alive, too! Heheheh… He even payed my boat ride from Cormyr to peltarch! I mean, really, what a swell guy. Did I ever tell you about the time he saved the entire city from those ravaging killer lemmings? Those lemings, ooof.. ::He shivers, huddling on his seat:: THOSE were some scary lemmings. They had brown furr and big big teeth. Oh man. The horror… the horror... I cannot begin to describe there TAILS. Oh! Gods... gives me nightmares just thinking about them. Those tails, oh gods.. the tails.. those alarming, chilling, scarey, shivery, shuddery -- Whatever it is, you name it, those tails were it. Ooooh brother. ::He shivers some more:: …but alas! ~My~ father, sir John Rivera, slew them all! Hah! And that's not all, he also -- ::He strikes a pose, with an imaginairy rapier, before stumbling on a rock and hitting his head on a bench in the commons::

    ::He is then carried away by a few commoners to the temple of Tyr, unconcious::


  • Oreth frowns

    I told you about my dire badger plan, right Zyphlin? For Luskan? Yeah.


  • Oh…blood...E...hell.

    Well...the...place...has...gone...come...pleat...lee...down...the...shit...her...now.

    ::chuckles slightly to himself bitterly as he mutters his words as he relaxes upon his normal seat in teh commons, taking a breath between each of the one syllable words::