A Pen-Pal

[Goldd 126]

I for the first time have come upon these messages and I would like to add the you are all not alone. I myself am very lonely, I have no mate nor children. What little fertility I still have, soon ends. I would like you all to know that I am lonely, but not alone. I feel the same way about many things as do you.

-Anonymous

[Mercury199 86]

Kolyat slips the letter under the desk making sure no one is looking, though readable it appear hastily scrawled and as if on a surface less than even.

Dear Lliran,

While this is my first letter my hope is that I will be readily accepted into this group while I have little to write at first, my skills being mainly verbal, I seek to use this as a confessional, a place to hide my deepest secrets, and know they will keep hidden. So little I write, Lliran you have my apologies. Perhaps, as I ask for clemency I can grant such a treasured gift to other as well. For below I will share my confession lliran, I hope that you may share yours as well.

Not long ago, I confessed the sin that has weighed heaviest upon me all my life, a crime committed out of love and survival. It was a heartfelt and tearful confession though, a discussion in which I divulged that which has shaped me as I am now.

For I was not raised as most, the luxuries of childhood were not a nectar of which I drank. I was never raised as a proper Mali'aheral, that is my first confession lliran.

The second confession to be contained in this letter, for this is one I dare not even let myself admit but I must. I was at one time in mt life consumed by a sole focus of revenge. I let such an emotion control me and shape me to it's sinister will. I soon began to realize that such things cause one to commit evils they never wish to commit, murder, deceit betrayal. Maybe it is true and I did not have any other choice besides dying, but that still does not excuse them. Oh I do beg forgiveness for such things my lliran.

My third and Final confession is a bit less of an action that I am confessing to doing. I cannot seem to help this but it seems that every time something goes wrong, I feel just a little guilty. I cannot help such feelings. Though sometimes I feel less guilty then other things, even if there was nothing I could do the guilt still exists. I have grown very adept at hiding this but hiding it does not solve the problem. I hope my lliran here can help me.

I hate to leave on such a sorrowful note, so I will leave a small token of joy and amusement, perhaps one of you will understand.

With love and a blessing,

Llir

P.S. Ah yes there is a space in the right most bookcase, upon applying pressure, a rather large space will open between the wall and the shelf, perhaps I shall look there when next searching.

Two feathers are tied to the bottom of the note, one is red and unkempt the other is neat and white, with silver streaks

[Samler 1565]

Seth sighs as he sees no one else answears this new writer, he writes back a message, hoping he do not have to write many more, the paper is bone white as new fallen snow, the ink is black as the purest form of darkness, it reads.

"Lar'iheiuh is writing again, we all forgive you Un-named llir, I am sure Ehierir will find a name if you do not, The other writers tends to be more active then this, I would have expected three mesages to you already, yet it seems as this idea is dieing sadly, I do hope the other writers soon will write to you.

-Lar'iheiuh, the self choosen guardian of the letters."

[Mercury199 86]

In the safety of solitude Kolyat quietly deposits a letter his footsteps accompanying him from the college

The arcs and lines crossing the page are familiar to that of a letter read not long ago, though this one just at first glance is obviously much greater in length, you begin to read

Dearest Lliran,

These letters have been for an undesirably long period of time, stagnant, unchanging devoid of the breath of life we shall mark by the lack of youth in these letters. It brings a tear to my eye to think that the silent voices entrapped by the gentle scratching of parchment and quill, have faded. So I shall re invite them to enter my company once more. So please lliran of the silent whispers, the trust of the unknown in one another, fall silent not once more. To what though shall I aim my exhalation of life ? Perhaps a friend that I owe a great deal to ? Perhaps a soft and serene memory of a friend I have for ages missed. Perhaps both, we shall see.

There was once a white haired woman who in our city did reside. I have heard what I would not doubt is her mention before in these letters. The inn was quiet that late night, a soft warm summer breeze made it’s way through the open doors, tussling our hair. She was uncontrolled, unrestrained in her expression in her unstoppable divulsion of herself. I talked little preferring to listen to the two women discuss the matter at hand, it was long winded and through much an emotional twist and gust the direction was ever changing though the encompassing destination remained constant. Her hair was a light blond oh what a common color but one I do find most pleasing. Though wrought with the tremors brought by the utter shock of emotional upheaval her voice kept it’s foundation, and what a sweet soft melody it is.

A gift was promised next. A silvery circle alive solely in the velvety ebony of night. A lonely silver circle watching over, observing us as in the night we whisper the final words to our lovers before laying our heads down to rest. As we softly sing our children to sleep or tell them hushed stories to sweetly lay them to rest. Lilting melodies, a loving trick, and all that we do silently is observed. But how should one acquire such a thing ? The softly troubled spoken llir ventured a defeated melancholy answer “ One cannot “.

I was inclined to believe, sip my wine let the bitter taste dance with sharp heels across my tongue. But a revelation spread across myself and I exclaimed softly “ I can bring you the moon “. Surprise quickly shaped to reason by the hand of an artesian well refined at her trade posed the challenge “ Then fetch it”. As I stood, the look from the other was quite clear, alarm. Her thoughts must have hammered as such in her mind; "How could this stranger to me know how to fetch the moon ? " As I lead them out to the court yard a soft smile spread across my face, the expression a whisper to the moon divulging all I was about to do, and in it’s radiance the moon smiled back.

“ There it is “ I gestured slightly all attention, focus, pointing unrelentingly to the circle, the brilliant gleaming disc. “ There it is for you to enjoy, to bask in the light your’s to share, your’s to keep, but always you shall have the moon. “ a soft smile, one of hidden amusement, a silent revel hidden from observing eyes, subtle approval, these were my rewards. The moon however was not impressed it had seen a loving trick before.

What the moon doesn’t know is that after ages passed, sunsets shared without a whisper, embraces that never concluded, I find that the one to whom I gave the moon has faded. As the warmth of the sun stricken stone under nights lonely darkness, fades so did she on a gentle breeze. Perhaps I could give once more that silvery disk, perhaps, oh if I could. For that other woman, the one who has not faded with the passing breath, the quickening of the step. She has remained, as a llir for which none could fathom to desire. So unto you my llir, I give the moon. Should you ever need see my gift. Let the nights soft rapture pull you in and the light bask you as you know the soft voice and lilting melodies that your llliran send on the lips of the silvery moon.

- The nameless Llir

[dalia44 (Bacon Goddess) 10]

*Dalia leaves a small note attached to the underside of the desk.*

"To any that read,

I am both afraid and amazed. Has anyone else seen this disease that spreads almost unnoticed throughout the land?

I worry something bad is coming. The crops and animals posses strange symptoms, the plants wither up and die. What is coming to us? Someone needs to do something. This is getting serious, and I fear that this may grow, and possibly become deadly. Even if it was only to affect plants and animals, it would be dangerous: We would surely starve. Something must be done.....

-The Blue Raven

[Mpana 40]

*A blue jay flies toward Normander carrying a large bundle of papers. It lands on the wall in front of an elven maiden who is staring at the stars lost in thought. The bird chirps and the girl turns to see that her bird has returned. She picks up a single piece of paper that she has looked over many times before, it is a letter to her beloved and it remains unchanged. Then she picks up the stack of papers that her little bird has brought her. She reads them over, once, twice, three times. Then she turns to her bird again, addressing the blue jay she says "Again I wonder what mother did to you, you always seem to know whats good for me, where to find it, and you never cease to remind me of her and father." at this the bird flits to her shoulder and rubs it's head against her ear. In this fashion the girl begins to write.*

To those who write to the shadows,

I do not know you and you do not know me, but like all of you I seek a light in this never ending darkness that is life. I am from far away and once lived happily with a loving family. My parents were kind and caring and my brother was the best friend anyone could ask for. For reasons that do not matter we had to flee to Asulon but our boat went down and my parents were lost to the sea. When my brother, I shall call him wild one, and I reached Asulon we where in sorry shape, we crafted rough bows and wild one had his sword. Not long after we set out in search for salvation we encountered a threat. I raised my bow, and in a cruel twist of fate wild one, the only thing I had left in this world, drew his sword. He charged as I shot, the hand of fate drew the final mark, how I wish I'd missed that mark. Later I swore to him and to my self that I would never again tempt fate with instruments of death.

I moved on my vow still haunting me I made some friends and got a job and a home. One by one all my friends came to the brink of death and all right before my eyes.

Eventually I found love, my heart beat for someone other than my self. And as if it had been planed my love nearly died before our wedding. Because of this he walked with a limp from then on. We continued to plan the wedding but regular as clockwork something would come up. Finally a week before it was finally due to happen I received a messenger that told me my love had passed. Later I found out that it had been his messenger he was concerned that because the wedding was constantly being canceled and that he was always a way that I'd either lost interest or that his safety was becoming to much of a burden. And now I write to you a day after we were to be married, the same messenger that told me he was dead last time told me he had quit his job and left our city of residence.

As I write this letter I question. I question myself, the world, and everything that ever is or was. Today I broke my vow the vow that became as much a part of me as my heart and my mind. I wielded a weapon and set out to find my love. My bird has failed to bring me his reply the only other time that has happened was when the recipient was dead. Instead my little blue jay brought me your letters how he found them or delivered them is beyond me he was enchanted by my mother.

Now I ask you will you hear my troubles for I will hear yours, will you be the water that cools the fire that burns my heart and mind for I will be yours, will you be my stars while the sun refuses rise for I will be yours. And lastly you all are nothing if not wise names hold power and meaning, I like you will keep mine a secret.

-Sincerely

She who walks in shadows and in light

*The girl sighs as she rereads her letter, she then gives her blue jay some seeds and says, "Rest now my little friend, but when the sun rises I want you to put these back where you found them, heaven knows what you do when your not here." the blue jay coos softly and plays with a lock of the girl's light brown hair. She takes one last look at the letters the latest handwriting looks slightly familiar.*

[dalia44 (Bacon Goddess) 10]

*Dalia steps into the library, when she sees the new note. She runs towards it, and reads it. She turns it over in her hands, and then begins to write a reply.*

To "She who walks in shadows and in light",

I know what you feel. It seems as if the world is pitted against me. I think to myself, about what happened to my family. Sometimes, I think I can remember something, a distant memory of my family... I still wonder if they are alive. What hardships are they bearing as I write this? All I can hope is that they're safe in a deep grave, instead of living in the darkness that shadows everyone. I wonder if I may be walking by them, if I have seen them, and yet I never recognize them. Trust me when I say, hold onto your memories. There is nothing worse than to forget those you love...

-The Blue Raven

*Dalia reads over her letter, a tear rolling down her cheek, as she tries to remember. She brushes her tear away, and drops the note on a desk. She stands up, and walks out.*

[Mpana 40]

*A blue jay lands among the enormous branches of The Elder Tree, it drops 2 papers into an elf's lap then perches on the girls shoulder. Next to the girl is a small stack of books, and a traveling cloak black as night. The girl picks up the papers one is the note she sends out every day at dawn, and the other is a note sighed the blue raven. She begins to write a response to the second note and as she does a tear rolls down one cheek.*

Dear Blue Raven, and shadow quills,

I write to you as my heart continues to break, every day I do not hear from my love the night gets darker. Is it possible for a heart to never stop shredding it's self into ever smaller pieces? As well as my broken heart I fear my mind is going to pieces. Ever since I broke my vow I've never stopped questioning myself. I feel as if part of my identity has been stripped from me. Last night I had a dream in my dream my brother was scolding me for breaking my promise to him, and for hurting others, I begged him to forgive me and he just shook his head. And a day before that I could have sworn I'd heard my mother's voice calling my name. It's as if my head and my heart are at war. Blue Raven you are desperate to remember your family, but you don't know the pain it will bring to you to know your loved ones are no more. I would switch with you in an instant, not a day goes by that my heart doesn't ache for my family. Memories are pain. It is as simple as that. Do not disrepair over what cannot be found, it will only cause you more worry and turmoil than if you forget it. Also I'd like to say that you are strong. To wish someone alive when it would hurt them is easy, to wish them dead when it is best is hard. The shadows that stalk the land are those that we remember, ignorance can be your enemy, but it can also be your protector. If no one were to remember hate, or fear, or loss, or love, than we'd see the day nobody was hurt at the hands of another. I don't know how I can say that when I am guilty of all of those. I used to think that if I could refrain from harming, then I could better myself and the world. Ha and now like everyone else I have a dagger tucked up my sleeve along with my quill. The light and the dark cloud my mind each desperately struggling for power. My heart and my mind fight to the death my every waking moment. My past and my future battle for control of my actions. I am being torn to pieces form the inside out! What am I to do? *the girl stops and jerks her head back hard, banging it against the branch she's leaning on. As she presses her now throbbing head into the bark of the tree, silent tears form waterfalls down her face.* It is easy to battle with others, but it will kill you when you battle with your self. My favorite piece of poetry reads: Long ago there lived a man, a man with yellow eyes. To me he said beware the whispers for they whisper lies, do not wrestle with the demons of the dark else upon your mind they'll place a mark, do not listen to the shadows of the deep else they'll haunt you even when you sleep. When I read it the first time I didn't know what it meant, but now I understand all to well. The whispers are broken promises, the demons of the dark are pain, grief, guilt, fear, hate, and love, the shadows of the deep are memories best forgotten. To all the shadow quills, have you wrestled, have you listened, are you marked, are you haunted? Have you ever felt as if everything you've ever stood for is a lie? Have you ever grappled with your self to the point where you fear you'll be torn to pieces? Do you know what the pain of the past and the pain of the future are like? Do the light and dark cloud your heart, mind, and, soul?

-Sincerely She who walks in shadows and in light

*The girl dabs the paper gently with her traveling cloak to try and remove the tears that are causing the ink to run. Noticing her crying the little blue jay pulls at a stray lock of her hair. The girl strokes the blue jay, and as she does a single tail feather, the color of a cloudless sky on a summers day, drops into her hand. She stares at it for a second before tucking it inside her note. She looks it over one last time before setting it down, and trying to forget her troubles. At dawn the girl's blue jay carries three notes, as it flies into the rising sun it whistles a sad mourning tune that seems to speak of lost hope.*

[GloryorSolitude 94]

*Serva walks into the library. He immediately picks out a large, unmarked book from the shelves. He sits in the desk and opens the book. He sits there for hours, studying everything inside. After four hours of reading, and slams the book shut and curses. He tries to slam the bottom of the desk with his hand, but something is in the way. He pulls out the letters and reads through them. He picks up a spare quill and ink jar lying around and begins to write.*

To she who walks in darkness and light,

I cannot spare my name in a place like this, but I'm He Who Wears Falke's mark. Most of us only go through any one fraction of what it means to battle against yourself. You may be the closest thing to the whole. If you are who I think you are, you are not alone. I see your handwriting, and I cant help but read the words over and over. I may never know, and you may never tell me, the choice is yours. I am a soldier, I fight in a manner of weapons. But I am marked, in more ways than you'd ever know. I have next to no allies. The world is out of it right now, a complete mess. It seems to me, that we need not focus on riches and gold, but ourselves. Each one of us here is going through a battle in some way. If my beliefs are right, She who walks in shadows and light, then you should know who I am as well. I know how you feel. If the name Sorenya means anything to you, then you have proof of my struggle. I am void. I have no purpose, my home is no longer, my duke is dead, I have nobody to trust and nowhere to go to. Time is short, walker of light and shadows, I have said all I can. I must leave now.

-He who wears Falke's mark

[Mpana 40]

*Ada's blue jay flits among the branches of the Elder tree, watching it's master. She is sitting on the edge of a branch her feet dangling off the edge, her black traveling cloak is draped around her shoulders, but her hood is down. The little blue jay hates it when she wears the cloak, she always looks so sad when she wears it, and he can't find her as easily. He flies down and drops a single letter into her lap. Ada look's up at her blue jay as it flies off with what she recognizes as the note to her beloved. She wonders what the little bird is doing with the note, it is obviously unchanged from when she last sent it out. She pushes the topic out of her mind, and picks up the letter it has given her. The handwriting feels more and more familiar as she reads. Ada's eyes grow wet as she realizes who has written. She draws her quill from the sleeve of her cloak, and as she does her hand brushes against the dagger that weights on her arm, heart, mind, and soul.*

To He Who wears Felkes mark

I can't come close to telling you what ran through my mind when I saw your letter. My home feels like home no longer and I am hard pressed to find allies in a world such as this. However in you I have found more than an ally, I have found a friend. When lost in the dark, a void where such little light exists, you glow like a warm fire. When the light of the sun and the stars vanishes, you have been there. Yet I fight a battle one can only fight alone, every day I fight, I fight a doubt that stabs at my heart like a sword made from ice. Also I fight the shadows that cloud my being. I fight the grief that covers hope the way the clouds cover the sun. I fight the guilt that drags at my soul the way a weight drags at a burdened horse. I fight the emptiness that was left when I shattered the one thing I clung to for many years. And I fight the fear that this is all for not. My heart breaks like glass, and is stabbed by doubt. My soul twists and turns around it's self like a storm that doesn't pass. My mind is clouded by thoughts that originate in the darkest depths of my being, and by thoughts that shine like the sun. This is why I am She who walks in shadows and in light. I fight a war that cannot be won or lost, the battle grounds are my heart, mind, and soul. I fight for the shadows, yet I fight for the light. I live in the darkness, yet I dance in the sun.

*Ada rereads her note, wondering if anyone including her recipient will comprehend the meaning behind her words. She sets her letter down and lays back on the branch of the Elder Tree, her legs still dangling off the edge. She closes her eyes for a brief moment and forces all thoughts from her mind. In these moments, the moments of clarity she hopes to see past her worries. For a brief minute she dozes off. Within her mind Ada is standing in a field divided directly in two. One side is dark the grass is brown and dead the trees are lifeless and stiff. On the other side the meadow is thriving and full of wild flowers. On the side that is dark stands every one she has ever loved and lost, her mother, her father, some old friends, and her brother. Her brother is standing in a pool of red that drips from a wound on his back, he is standing five paces from where Ada stands with one foot on one side and one foot on the other. In the side with the wild flowers stands all of Ada's friends that she has known that still breaths, as well as every plant she has ever laid eyes on. Her beloved stands five paces from where Ada is mirroring her brother's position. Her blue jay circles over head passing from the dark side to the light side and back again. It let's out a sharp cry as both her beloved and her brother reach out for her hand at the same time. In that instant Ada's eyes snap open, and she finds herself again among the branches of the Elder Tree. She picks up the note and continues to write, as she writes a strange since of clarity fills her, like a crystal clear pool.*

As I write the shadows threaten to overcome me, my reason for existence feels as if it is slipping away every time I exhale. I don't know what compels me to tell you these things He who wears Falke's mark, or any of you, shadow quills. Yet I have, and so be it, I have yet again laid myself down, helpless, to the whims of fate. I can again only hope for it's mercy. I know not of control, I never have, even my own weapon double crossed my intentions. I am not even in control of my own being. The only thing I have ever truly commanded is ink and quill. The day my dagger becomes my quill and blood becomes my ink is the day I submit to the dark. It will also be the day I end my time among the mortals. I will be the day I take a step into either shadows or into light.

-Sincerely She who walks in shadows and in light

*Ada looks over her letter, her mind still teaming with memories of her dream. She looks up from the paper to see that the sun has risen. She feels no inclination to move as the morning wind tousles her hair. Her blue jay has returned but it leaves the note to her beloved on a branch that is out of her reach, it wants to hide that again it has failed to avoid seeing it's master disappointed again. She needn't see the note to know their is no response though. Ada tucks a small round object, a melon seed, into the note before giving it to her blue jay to deliver. She then looks to the rising sun, it's rays warming her face, she thinks about her dream, and what it means. She is finally beginning to understand the true nature of her fight, and of her choice.

[Lynesse {Celia/Jazzy} 398]

*Ada's blue jay flits among the branches of the Elder tree, watching it's master. She is sitting on the edge of a branch her feet dangling off the edge, her black traveling cloak is draped around her shoulders, but her hood is down. The little blue jay hates it when she wears the cloak, she always looks so sad when she wears it, and he can't find her as easily. He flies down and drops a single letter into her lap. Ada look's up at her blue jay as it flies off with what she recognizes as the note to her beloved. She wonders what the little bird is doing with the note, it is obviously unchanged from when she last sent it out. She pushes the topic out of her mind, and picks up the letter it has given her. The handwriting feels more and more familiar as she reads. Ada's eyes grow wet as she realizes who has written. She draws her quill from the sleeve of her cloak, and as she does her hand brushes against the dagger that weights on her arm, heart, mind, and soul.*

To He Who wears Felkes mark

I can't come close to telling you what ran through my mind when I saw your letter. My home feels like home no longer and I am hard pressed to find allies in a world such as this. However in you I have found more than an ally, I have found a friend. When lost in the dark, a void where such little light exists, you glow like a warm fire. When the light of the sun and the stars vanishes, you have been there. Yet I fight a battle one can only fight alone, every day I fight, I fight a doubt that stabs at my heart like a sword made from ice. Also I fight the shadows that cloud my being. I fight the grief that covers hope the way the clouds cover the sun. I fight the guilt that drags at my soul the way a weight drags at a burdened horse. I fight the emptiness that was left when I shattered the one thing I clung to for many years. And I fight the fear that this is all for not. My heart breaks like glass, and is stabbed by doubt. My soul twists and turns around it's self like a storm that doesn't pass. My mind is clouded by thoughts that originate in the darkest depths of my being, and by thoughts that shine like the sun. This is why I am She who walks in shadows and in light. I fight a war that cannot be won or lost, the battle grounds are my heart, mind, and soul. I fight for the shadows, yet I fight for the light. I live in the darkness, yet I dance in the sun.

*Ada rereads her note, wondering if anyone including her recipient will comprehend the meaning behind her words. She sets her letter down and lays back on the branch of the Elder Tree, her legs still dangling off the edge. She closes her eyes for a brief moment and forces all thoughts from her mind. In these moments, the moments of clarity she hopes to see past her worries. For a brief minute she dozes off. Within her mind Ada is standing in a field divided directly in two. One side is dark the grass is brown and dead the trees are lifeless and stiff. On the other side the meadow is thriving and full of wild flowers. On the side that is dark stands every one she has ever loved and lost, her mother, her father, some old friends, and her brother. Her brother is standing in a pool of red that drips from a wound on his back, he is standing five paces from where Ada stands with one foot on one side and one foot on the other. In the side with the wild flowers stands all of Ada's friends that she has known that still breaths, as well as every plant she has ever laid eyes on. Her beloved stands five paces from where Ada is mirroring her brother's position. Her blue jay circles over head passing from the dark side to the light side and back again. It let's out a sharp cry as both her beloved and her brother reach out for her hand at the same time. In that instant Ada's eyes snap open, and she finds herself again among the branches of the Elder Tree. She picks up the note and continues to write, as she writes a strange since of clarity fills her, like a crystal clear pool.*

As I write the shadows threaten to overcome me, my reason for existence feels as if it is slipping away every time I exhale. I don't know what compels me to tell you these things He who wears Falke's mark, or any of you, shadow quills. Yet I have, and so be it, I have yet again laid myself down, helpless, to the whims of fate. I can again only hope for it's mercy. I know not of control, I never have, even my own weapon double crossed my intentions. I am not even in control of my own being. The only thing I have ever truly commanded is ink and quill. They day my dagger becomes my quill and blood becomes my ink is the day I submit to the dark. It will also be the day I end my time among the mortals. I will be the day I take a step into either shadows or into light.

-Sincerely She who walks in shadows and in light

*Ada looks over her letter, her mind still teaming with memories of her dream. She looks up from the paper to see that the sun has risen. She feels no inclination to move as the morning wind tousles her hair. Her blue jay has returned but it leaves the note to her beloved on a branch that is out of her reach, it wants to hide that again it has failed to avoid seeing it's master disappointed again. She needn't see the note to know their is no response though. Ada tucks a small round object, a melon seed, into the note before giving it to her blue jay to deliver. She then looks to the rising sun, it's rays warming her face, she thinks about her dream, and what it means. She is finally beginning to understand the true nature of her fight, and of her choice.

[[ Uh, just saying. It shouldn't be possible for you to get into the library. The notes are left inside a pile in the silver city of Haelun'or's library which is only accessible by high elves. A blue jay can't deliver a letter from Normandor into a small nook in a library. ]]

[Dohvi 622]

Delonna and Seth walk along the path around the college, deep in discussion as they head from the farms towards the inn.

Delonna speaks with in a contemplative tone. "I'm telling you, I agree with some of the messages the referendum stands for, but it goes too far."

A hint of regret is detectable in Seth's voice as he starts speaking. "Yes.. Maybe the death one is.." He quickly changes his tone though, as he begins to question another aspect. "But there is one little thing I do not understand, you get a fine if you found guilty in showing your love in public, but if it someone of the same gender, you get two."

Delonna listens respectfully, before adding his opinion on the matter. "I'm really not sure about those ones, Seth. I suppose it does make sense, but no one had previously seen any need to write a law about them. It's always just been implied that public shows of affection, and same-gender relationships are not appropriate. I'm not quite sure that making them illegal is the right approach."

Seth nods slowly. "I do not see that much wrong if two of the same gender loves each other.. As long they would make some kind of agreement that would keep our race alive."

As they pass by the college entrance on their way to the inn, they find themselves bumping into the stranger, Serva as he exits the college. Delonna frowns as he stops midsentence at the sight of the stranger."Exactly! Making an actual law about it seems abit-- Errmmm..."

Seth tilts his head a little to the left. "Now, who is this? Another farmhand of yours, Delonna? If so, he should not be here."

Delonna shakes his head slowly as he begins to speak. "No...I've never seen this (elf?) before... Karin'ayla, stranger. Might I ask who you are, and why you were in the college? For that matter, why are you in the city at all? How did you get in?"

((OOC Note: We decided it best to respond to RP with RP, but the main point is; just because it's forum RP, doesn't mean you can go somewhere which you wouldn't have access to ICly. Most of us let the blue jay thing slide, since it looks like alot of effort was put into those posts, but a random stranger not only being in the city, but in the college is abit too far.))

[Mercury199 86]

Kolyat flips through the letters one by one slowly, making sure he is alone, it is very late at night there is no reason he should not be. As he continues this task , a frown germinates in his lips growing rapidly across his face as he finished the final letter. Without meaning to, the words spill out of his mouth, cascading silently like a tear falling gently and softly plummeting to the stone floor only to shatter itself. " Perhaps one last hope, llir, maybe you are here, maybe through the clouds I can glimpse a star, maybe " he mumbles, and slides his letter out from it's spot placing it on top

Dearest Lliran,

These letters have been for an undesirably long period of time, stagnant, unchanging devoid of the breath of life we shall mark by the lack of youth in these letters. It brings a tear to my eye to think that the silent voices entrapped by the gentle scratching of parchment and quill, have faded. So I shall re invite them to enter my company once more. So please lliran of the silent whispers, the trust of the unknown in one another, fall silent not once more. To what though shall I aim my exhalation of life ? Perhaps a friend that I owe a great deal to ? Perhaps a soft and serene memory of a friend I have for ages missed. Perhaps both, we shall see.

There was once a white haired woman who in our city did reside. I have heard what I would not doubt is her mention before in these letters. The inn was quiet that late night, a soft warm summer breeze made it’s way through the open doors, tussling our hair. She was uncontrolled, unrestrained in her expression in her unstoppable divulsion of herself. I talked little preferring to listen to the two women discuss the matter at hand, it was long winded and through much an emotional twist and gust the direction was ever changing though the encompassing destination remained constant. Her hair was a light blond oh what a common color but one I do find most pleasing. Though wrought with the tremors brought by the utter shock of emotional upheaval her voice kept it’s foundation, and what a sweet soft melody it is.

A gift was promised next. A silvery circle alive solely in the velvety ebony of night. A lonely silver circle watching over, observing us as in the night we whisper the final words to our lovers before laying our heads down to rest. As we softly sing our children to sleep or tell them hushed stories to sweetly lay them to rest. Lilting melodies, a loving trick, and all that we do silently is observed. But how should one acquire such a thing ? The softly troubled spoken llir ventured a defeated melancholy answer “ One cannot “.

I was inclined to believe, sip my wine let the bitter taste dance with sharp heels across my tongue. But a revelation spread across myself and I exclaimed softly “ I can bring you the moon “. Surprise quickly shaped to reason by the hand of an artesian well refined at her trade posed the challenge “ Then fetch it”. As I stood, the look from the other was quite clear, alarm. Her thoughts must have hammered as such in her mind; "How could this stranger to me know how to fetch the moon ? " As I lead them out to the court yard a soft smile spread across my face, the expression a whisper to the moon divulging all I was about to do, and in it’s radiance the moon smiled back.

“ There it is “ I gestured slightly all attention, focus, pointing unrelentingly to the circle, the brilliant gleaming disc. “ There it is for you to enjoy, to bask in the light your’s to share, your’s to keep, but always you shall have the moon. “ a soft smile, one of hidden amusement, a silent revel hidden from observing eyes, subtle approval, these were my rewards. The moon however was not impressed it had seen a loving trick before.

What the moon doesn’t know is that after ages passed, sunsets shared without a whisper, embraces that never concluded, I find that the one to whom I gave the moon has faded. As the warmth of the sun stricken stone under nights lonely darkness, fades so did she on a gentle breeze. Perhaps I could give once more that silvery disk, perhaps, oh if I could. For that other woman, the one who has not faded with the passing breath, the quickening of the step. She has remained, as a llir for which none could fathom to desire. So unto you my llir, I give the moon. Should you ever need see my gift. Let the nights soft rapture pull you in and the light bask you as you know the soft voice and lilting melodies that your llliran send on the lips of the silvery moon.

- The nameless Llir

[GloryorSolitude 94]

((Serva CAN get into the library, he IS a high elf. Half the people here probably cant get into the city or college, but dont just assume that we all cant.))

[ThanksChris 605]

((Actually, not all High Elves can get into the city, and being a really tight community, if we haven't seen you around often, we have all right to assume you do not belong in the city, and would not have access to it.))