hemomancy

A Haelun'orian mage picks up her pen, sending a missive the Archbishops way. "Good evening Archbishop, Should you like to speak on that of the Void, I would be happy to oblige. I will accept your invite to Balian in due time. Signed, Cresence Sythaerin"

Cresence Sythaerin sat in front of sheets of paper- plans, drafts, writing alike, an ice-cold tea in a cup of frost lightly lofted. "Maehr'sae Hiylun'ehya." The Mage muses.

Cresence slides an advertisement over to her husband. She silently pleads. Just a tad.

Cresence can appreciate some good gossip... 'least she got a compliment from it.

please god please give us more fun

The busy Okarir'tayna ignores any rogue missives that come her way, focus kept on work and plans. This one, of course, gets slid her way, and Cresence Sythaerin gives an eyeroll, tossing the missive into her fireplace.

A LETTER TO NEVEAHLEN Issued by the OKARIR’TAYNA 11th of the First Seed, Y. 175 To those that once inhabited the Vale, As time progresses, your once-home has since become overgrown and reclaimed. With such a large piece of land I find it a shame such a beautiful city remains empty. Plans have arisen where I seek to begin change to the islands. I first ask if there is anything of importance still left. I would be remiss if I were to allow anything significant to others to be damaged or destroyed, and would be quite upset if something of my own culture were to be discarded. Therefore, I extend the same courtesy. Please contact me if there is anything we must be aware of, as I would be happy to return it to its rightful owners. As signed by, Cresence Sythaerin Okarir’tayna of the Silver Empire of Haelun’or

It's egg day... they never specified which eggs!!

A mage sat, pen tapping against paper. Long had she tried to stay out of that of the vassal-state. Though long did the mage grow tired of the whispers in her ears. She stares at the jarred head on her desk.

MARRY MY UNCLE (Or court) A PLEA I, anonymously, implore that the single elven ladies of Aevos take a chance in dating my uncle. He is a fine mali’ame-aheral mage, a short-king as the valah would say. I trust that he would be a wonderful father to any oem’ii, as I believe that I have not come out too badly with him raising me. His name is Lucis Avila, any birds with an interest may be sent directly to him. He likes magic, reading, music, debates on philosophy that he can then use for his own advantage at a later time, food (even if he is thin and should eat more), poking fun at people, and not being short (lies). And BOWTIES. He dislikes people scared of his magic, his crippling loneliness (although he won’t admit it), alcohol- unless others are drinking, green brownies (my fault, sorry), headstrong people who do not think things through (also my fault), not being listened to, and being called short (he is). An automaton's rendition of the man in question.

Marusya Sarkozic eagerly awaits some sort of new job to do...