A note delivered to Bromn's bakery.

[Carnath-Emory]

And a very simple one, at that. It is penned against all better judgement, except that in this case judgement must be tempered by recollection -- of Kylerryth, of what had come of that encounter.

Disaster, in a word.

[INDENT]Altias
In the matter of Ser Vraal, and of Galasia Tarin-Talus Vraal,
you might do well to exercise some caution.
[/INDENT]

[Altias_Bromn]

The note was read and studied. A single eyebrow would loft over the emerald green eye, as a soft chuckle rested upon his lips.

"Oh Ariane, you still think me a childish fool. I have no wish to run head long into yet another disaster."

Of course, she might know this, had she come to call. To visit. His bed had been cold for many weeks. His only real companionship came from Renne's nightly visits. The occasional stop by Treadwell. And, of course, the never ending parade of people with wishes and wants, believing him to be some miracle worker. Thank heaven for the Fick girl. She was quiet, careful, and a quick learner. She had been taking notes, writing letters, basically taking very good care of a very frazzled governor.

"Someday...Ariane...we shall do better face to face, then on paper."