It is a fine day in Doma City. The sky is partly cloudy, whilst the newly-risen sun is setting itself to the task of absorbing the dampness left behind by the prior night's drizzle. Things have been mostly peaceful as of late. People have been able to live their lives with mostly normal trials and tribulations, thankfully able to escape the more unusual and deadly sort.
It is this day when a few people recieve a fairly official looking letter via the messangers employed by the crown. Those more familiar with the various emblems of the nation may recognize that it bears the seal of the Doman Navy upon it.
Jeridan Arrowfist and Jak Snide recieve similiar letters, different only in their addressee. You're probably wondering why you're getting a letter from this branch of the government. I want to ask you to do me a favor, one that is likely to take you from home for some time. I want you to aid me in helping my little girl, and exploring some unseen parts of Gaera in the process. Don't worry, I've already cleared it with the Captain, you'll have your leaves, as well as pay for your time. Meet me at the Jade Dragon around 3 in the afternoon, and I'll tell you more.
Kelne, whose letter bears no surname, reads: Kelne, you've proven yourself to be a capable and intelligent man in the past. So, I want to you to help me find a cure for my daughter. This'll involve leaving the continent, but I get the feeling that wouldn't bother you as much as most people. I'll make it worth your time, of course. Meet me at the Jade Dragon around 3 in afternoon. I'll at least get you a round or two for your time.
Paige Bookipper gets a somewhat different letter. Paige, I need you at the Jade Dragon at three this afternoon. We're putting the Royal Fortune to use soon, and I need you to meet some folks.
All are signed Admiral Aliester J. Purvis
, but those familiar with his handwriting will note the script is too crisp to be his own.
For Dia Rai, she recieves no letter. Rather, sometime in the afternoon after the lunch crowd has left, she'll see a familiar and long-absent face of an old regular walking into the front room. A tall and heavily man in his late thirties, his hair and beard unkempt and fiery red, glances about. Some might note the robes of a white mage that he wears, cut to look a bit more like a uniform than the usual loose garments that they wear. A pair of feline ears stand out from his hair, bespeaking mixed racial heritage.
Even if she isn't there to see him, she may well hear him bellow "Oy! Gobs! Get me a rum, quicksmart!"
(Alternate Title: Fun with Franking Priveleges)
Edited by: Uncle Pervy at: 2/25/05 23:27