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Phyrexial opened up the flap and pulled out her mail at the end of the day as she always did. With a yawn she sifted through a few fliers claiming cash4elementium, and one selling Mojo "enhancement" pills. She chuckled as she pulled off her helmet to read the items more clearly, musing over each one before she tossed it in the trash basket until she came to the last item in the pile. The edges of the folded paper were burned, tattered and torn; it had certainly seen better days. She blinked rapidly when she realized she was reading some sort of journal or diary entry:
"The Bakers are now sick, too. Father took us to the city to keep us from getting infected. He says that they can work with the other Apothecaries to find a cure for the Plague. Most of Brill is sick. I'm surprised none of us have gotten it. Father has told me not to leave to go to the library. I hope he finds a cure. Liz's mother...it was terrifying! I hope Liz doesn't come back, too... I miss our walks by the lake. She was my best friend."
She read the paper a few more times, her mousey face scrunched up in dismay and more confusion than usual. She thought to toss it in the trash, but stayed her hand just before she let it join the fliers and leaflets in the trash basket. ...if someone found a piece of my journal from the time before, I'd want it back. Maybe I'll hold onto it, in case someone comes looking for it. She stuffed the letter in her bag to join a sea of loose papers, half eaten food and a leaky flask before heading inside for the night.
(( I dunno what this is, but seeing as there was a big rp thing with some misaddressed/whatever letter Nymaway got, I figured I'd post it up here. Seemed pretty similar. I'll post anymore that I receive.))
((Would seem this person likes to send things to the undead. I'm hoping this item goes with this all))
[The small ragdoll is dressed as a soldier, holding a sword and a shield with the emblem of Lordaeron.
"Mail call!" an annoying nasal voice called out to the undead, causing her to fumble the herbs she was sorting.
Kangia sighed, catching herself from snapping at her helper. "Miss Ironshell, you are well aware how I feel about being-"
The undead was cut off by a thud of a box crushing the same plants she had just been messing with. "Yeah, yeah, busy, busy. Look, toots, ya got mail, an' I dun know 'bout you, but I want ta know what's in it!." The gobin had already started undoing the ties before the former quel'dorei had given her a simple gesture to okay her opening the package. Once the flaps were pulled back and the stuffing was properly tossed about the desk, a clear sound of disgust mixed with disappointment was heard. "Da 'eck!? Why would someone send this ta ya, deady? Ya couldn't get much from hawking it."
"What is the item?" Kangia's tone had a vague annoyed tone, something growing characteristic around the other.
"Some kinda toy," Zelfrix answered, turning the item around in her hands. "Looks worn an' stuffs. An' burned." She inspected the shield, adding, "An' old-ish. Dis seal's from Lorderamberon. No one's gonna want this! ... I'll just... uh... take care o' it 'or ya..."
The undead shook her head, grabbing her deformed pendant that once belonged to her own husband. "Leave it. Something like that would have great value to someone else. I shall see to is it is returned. And if you dare to remove it from my possession, your pay will be docked for a week."
The goblin was left speechless. "Wha, ya can't, but I..." She gave up trying to form a sentence, and left the rag doll on the desk, grumbling as she left about "da blind, undead thin'" being no fun.
Edited by Kangy on 12/30/2011 7:50 PM PST
Athena flicks through her stack of letters quickly, scanning through them with the intent of finding something that has nothing to do with official business. She sighs and mutters that, perhaps, one day, the art of writing someone a friendly letter 'just because' might resurface. A burned piece of parchment catches her eye as she nears the end of the stack.
"Father and Jonathan are arguing again. The yelling is scaring Delilah. Jonathan wants to join the Silver Hand, but Father thinks it isn't wise. He says the Orcs don't pose a threat to the town here since the uprising is in Hillsbrad. I think Jonathan is right. We need more soldiers to defend the people. I do admire my brother for his desire to help. I hope father is right and that it isn't necessary. I'm trying games to distract Tobias and Delilah."
Athena frowns, rereading the snippet. She carefully folds the paper and slips it in her journal. She dumps the rest of the mail into her bag with little regard.
85 Undead Rogue
Do we know if these letters are related to:
(( But. But. I wanna play, toooooooo!!! ))
1 Blood Elf Priest
((If you receive a letter and do not want to participate, please send me an in game mail so I know what letters to resend. I've sent out two groups of letters now, but only the first few have been posted. I'll wait another day before resending the second group.))
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