From One Tea Connoisseur to Another

From One Tea Connoisseur to Another

Postby SinVraal » Thu May 03, 2007 3:24 pm

Dear Madame Swinton,

I am recently arrived to Myrkwood. Imagine my surprise when I arrived shortly before an apparent coup was to take place? It was a most distressing affair.

My understanding is that it is still distressing to you, or more precisely, your place of business. In my travels I have become quite the tea connoisseur and have studied how various cultures and peoples celebrate the simple but often important affair of drinking tea. The fact that you have allowed your tea house to be used for the good of the wounded speaks volumes of your character.

I endeavor to meet you in person, if this would prove possible, preferably at this tea house of which I have heard many good things. I believe we would have much to discuss concerning the tea traditions that we both take pleasure in.

If meeting is not too forward a request, perhaps this conversation might continue then? I look forward to your response, Madame Swinton.

Sincerely,

Vraal


***

Sin'Vraal leaned back in the wooden chair of the deserted Broken Dagger and scrutinized his letter. Thin lips pursed as he blew softly upon the drying ink and considered, between his knowledge of things tea-related and his heavily stylized penmanship, that such a letter would hopefully catch the tea Madame's attention.

All big plans started small.
If you are near to the dark
I will tell you about the sun
You are here, no escape
From my visions of the world
You will cry, all alone
But it does not mean a thing to me...
SinVraal
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Postby Wendy » Fri May 04, 2007 6:18 pm

Something as simple as parchment was in rare supply at the teahouse. The Madame was forced to make use of stationery that had been stored for true occasions. Vraal would receive a letter on finely pressed, high grade silk blend. It tortured the woman to use this sheet, but she could not spend another minute looking for something else to scrawl on.

She used the tea counter as a place to write.

Mister? Lord? Baron? Prince? She glanced at his letter. It did not specify. Simply, Vraal.

She had to be careful with the ink as it was not of the same quality as her paper and would smear.

Vraal, she penned:

Thank you for your recent letter request of a meeting. As you know, the teahouse is in use for purposes besides those which we are accustomed to. If meeting is required, then we should find another venue such as one that is free from any matters concerning the recent coup.

She sighed with a need to get away.

Your kind words pertaining to the character of my self and my business are well received. Do send word when you have a setting in mind, as we can not meet here in the teahouse.

Fare thee well,
Mme. Cambree Swinton


A few of the words bore excessive ink, but hopefully the reader could understand them. She left it sitting open on the counter while it dried to tend to other people and things.

Once those small pools of black had dried, she curled the letter into a scroll and secured it with a slim ribbon. One hand passed it to another, and it was soon on its way to the one who anticipated this reply.
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Wendy
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Postby SinVraal » Mon May 07, 2007 3:52 am

Sin'Vraal smiled as he regarded the letter. He caught the occasional blot of ink which, he noted, seemed somewhat out of place given his correspondant's delicate and precise hand.

*

Madame Swinton,

While the Broken Dagger is certainly not comparable to the quiet dignity of a tea house perhaps, given current circumstances being what they are, it will suffice for the pleasantry of meeting and discussing our mutual interest.

*

He suggested a time and place in a quick, slanted hand and signed the letter, simply,

"Vraal"
If you are near to the dark
I will tell you about the sun
You are here, no escape
From my visions of the world
You will cry, all alone
But it does not mean a thing to me...
SinVraal
Member
 
Posts: 74
Joined: Sat Apr 28, 2007 10:29 am

Postby Wendy » Mon May 07, 2007 11:17 am

Vraal's reply found the Madame before it left the tavern. She was requested to visit a patient who was healing there and had just arrived when a kitchen boy brought the letter, on errand, to the private room.

She read through the missive quickly, as it would have been rude of her to take her time in present company. She barely noticed that the servant, a serpent, was sent away to matters of another importance.

Her lips moved as she re-read the important facts of date, time and.. well, ironically, she was already in the place. These necessary details joined her pool of a memory, then she looked across the room at her friend.

"It seems I have an appointment. Here, at the tavern," she said, at least informing her audience of the letter's meaning. She then knelt to dispose of the letter by folding it and tucking it to the bottom of her satchel. She had a girl before her that was in need of holistic remedy.
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