An Invitation

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Zen
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Joined: Fri Aug 31, 2001 5:01 am
Location: Michigan

An Invitation

Postby Zen » Sat Nov 16, 2002 4:01 pm

Falstad creaked slowly as he rose. His chair squeaked, and he couldn’t help but smile. That chair had been through a lot with him. It was the first piece of furniture he had purchased when he opened his shop so many years ago, and it had outlasted everything. Desks, quills, parchments, all had been used up, worn out and discarded, all but his chair. The chair, Falstad thought, might even outlast him.

He fished around for his cane, hooking it with a gnarled hand as he ambled across the small shop. Small desks with neatly stacked parchments lined the quiet room; his four apprentices had already left for the day, leaving Falstad to complete his own quiet ritual of closing the shop before he creaked his way home again. The shadows of the setting sun deepened against the racks of parchments scrolls and tomes along the walls, he smiled as the setting suns rays washed over his wrinkled skin and made his shock of white hair gleam brightly. With a slow blink he removed his spectacles, wiping the dust away before replacing them.

Falstad turned back to the room, checking to make sure everything was in place. In the far corner, Tomas, his old mastiff raised his head lazily before ambling to his feet. The mouse colored dog shuffled slowly to follow his companion. Falstad turned to the windows, and began drawing the shutter. The sun winked at him as he pulled and latched the heavy wooden curtains, creaking his way over to the second window.

By the time he arrived at the second window, the sun’s light had faded to a warm red. He stood for a moment, basking in the day’s cheerful afterglow. With a wistful sigh, he pulled the shutter towards him. A low growl at his heels warned him as the door swung open softly on well-oiled hinges. He would have to do something about those hinges, Falstad thought, he liked things that creaked: they made him feel comfortable.

His gaze turned to the door; the warm red light of the dying sun spilled in around the shadow of his visitor as the man stepped into the dim interior. Falstad squinted briefly, adjusting his vision once more.

“Greetings,” The newcomer rumbled, his voice gravely.

Falstad looked him over uncertainly. The man was dressed plainly, but well. His clothes were of a fine cut, and barely worn. Falstad might have mistaken the man for a successful merchant, but the rugged edges of the man’s face marked him as a northerner. The man snaked his hand through his rebellious hair, attempting to control its unruly strands.

It was late, and Falstad did not want to deal with an unruly uthgardt, but the man’s bearing and greeting were unusual. He hesitated for a moment as Tomas ambled over the stranger. The tall man bent down to stroke the dog’s muzzle and the aging mastiff licked his hand in greeting. Falstad smiled, straightening his face as he leaned on his cane. After all, he was not about to doubt Tomas.

“Good evening to you my friend,” Falstad adjusted his spectacles with his free hand. “I was just closing shop, but how can I help you tonight?”

“Well…” the tall man began, smiling a little uncertainly. “I need to have a large number of documents produced.”

Falstad chuckled softly, “That is generally what we do here, producing documents.”

The northerner’s smile turned from uncertain to amused as he opened his mouth to speak, but whatever he might have said was lost as the half closed door of the shop shot open. Falstad briefly wondered why Tomas hadn’t announced the newcomer.

“Hello darling,” A musical voice rang out in the quiet shop, and its owner followed closely. A lithe elf shot into the room, her curly red streaking like a flame behind her. Her small figure curved in gentle waves as she caught the northerner by his collar and swung up to kiss him, her feet dangling well off the ground. In one smooth motion she spun around, dropping to the floor and kissing Falstad on the cheek.

“Hello Falstad,” She called out as recognition gleamed in his eyes. “You won’t believe the trouble I had with the dress maker, Lorgan,” she continued, “but at least the caterer is helpful. And the florist… do not get me started on the florist. The man is an absolute cad, and he wants a small card that says ‘Flowers by Zenriel’ on every bouquet. I think you’re going to have to talk to him.”

She paused and peered around the shop, taking in everything with a piercing scrutiny and her emerald eyes narrowed.

“It is good to see you, Ashiwilyrienne. I’ve missed you all day.” Lorgan’s gravelly bass voice seemed to boom in the still shop.

Falstad looked at her curiously, and Ashiwi smiled at the unspoken question.

“He’s quite allowed to use my proper name Falstad. Allow me to introduce my Fiancée, Lorgan Blackmane.”

Her eyes continued their almost distracted sweep of the contents, finally alighting on an old tome perching over the corner of a desk. She swept across the room, falling silent in distraction as she began to carefully page through the ancient book.

“On that note, Master Falstad,” Lorgan rumbled, “The documents I need drawn up are…”

Falstad waved his hand in the air, silencing Lorgan.

“It is simply Falstad my young friend, no master. Come back here and let me find a quill.”

The old man turned and shuffled his way back to his creaking chair, Tomas and Lorgan following hard at his heels. The old chair groaned a greeting as Falstad sat, waving Lorgan to the seat across the desk. Tomas put his head on the northerners lap, licking his hand slowly.

“You come well recommended my friend,” Falstad smiled as he pulled his quill and ink close to him, “Tomas is very discriminating about who he takes a liking to. Now, what can I help you with?”

Lorgan shifted in his seat, retrieving a hard leather document case from a pocket of his coat. He undid the clasp and slid the case across the table to Falstad. The old man opened it, noting the seal embossed on the leather as he did.

“So you’re the new manager of Twilight Raven eh? Isn’t that the old Raging Boar Company?” Falstad didn’t wait for an answer and began shuffling through the papers. “Hrm… Some rather impressive letters of credit…” He shuffled through several parchments, frowning slowly. “This is the list of addresses?”

Lorgan nodded, his eyes following the contours of Ashiwi’s neck across the room.

“Falstad!” She shouted in the cloistered shop, “How long have you had this!” She gestured franticly to the book on the table.

“A week lady Autumnmoon, no longer.” He shrugged, “Andrew has nearly completed the first copy. I picked it up from a Zhentarim trader who was passing through. I can’t say where the city is, or was, but the script seems elven.”

Ashiwi nodded thoughtfully, chewing her lower lip. “I want the first copy when it is completed, Falstad.”

The old man smiled slowly and adjusted his spectacles. “Of course dear, I already have your name on the cover.”

She nodded and closed the tome with a sigh. “We really must be going Lorgan, there is so much to do. Have you finished yet?”

Lorgan rumbled something deep in his chest and turned back to Falstad. “The letters of credit are for you, cover your expenses as you need. Will there be any difficulty with the time frame?”

Falstad shuffled the list again, his frown turning to a slight smile before he set the papers down. “I have four young apprentices, for you and the lady Autumnmoon, it can be done.”

Lorgan nodded and stood to his feet smiling. Falstad’s chair creaked cheerily as he stood and ambled to the door.
“Farewell Falstad,” Ashiwi kissed him on the cheek as they left, “And don’t forget my maps!”

The old man closed the door after them, a little disappointed that it didn’t creak. From the window he could see the couple walking hand in hand down the street as the sun’s last red orange rays washed over them. He tugged the shutter closed and stooped to pet Tomas before walking over to his desk, blowing the candles out as he went.

Falstad sat in his chair, shuffling Lorgan’s documents into order under the light of his solitary candle. He might as well get started, he thought as he pulled a clean parchment from his desk and dipped his quill. It was his ritual to always write the first and last copy of a document his scribes created, and if he did it now maybe he could get tomorrow's work started that much sooner. He touched his quill to parchment, enjoying the feel of the paper as he began to write.

<table align="center" bgcolor="#F3F1C4" width="450" cellspacing="2" cellpadding="10" border="2" frame="box">
<tr>
<td align=center>
<font size="+1"><strong><em>Lorgan Blackmane</em></strong></font>

Son of Tark Ghostbear and Sanila of the Hawk

and

<font size="+1"><strong><em>Ashiwilyrienne Autumnmoon</em></strong></font>

Child of Corellon, Daughter of Silverymoon

Request the honor of your presence in the celebration of the joining of their spirits as they exchange vows of marriage.

Anna's cottage, inner balcony, Evermeet

9pm EST on November 22<sup>nd</sup>, 2002
</td>
</tr>
</table>


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The Lord of the Iron Wastes holds his hammer high in the air, shouting a torment... 'Weak fools!'

[This message has been edited by Zen (edited 11-16-2002).]
Ashiwi
Sojourner
Posts: 4161
Joined: Thu Jun 14, 2001 5:01 am

Postby Ashiwi » Mon Nov 18, 2002 10:55 pm

The invitation is open to all who wish to attend. There are some basic requests we make, however.

1. Please turn off all visible triggers.
2. Please refrain from unnecessary remarks during the ceremony.
3. Even though we consider this an RP event, please do not bring your RP'd disagreements into our happy occasion.

We look forward to seeing all our friends and family there.
Ashiwi
Sojourner
Posts: 4161
Joined: Thu Jun 14, 2001 5:01 am

Postby Ashiwi » Fri Nov 22, 2002 7:43 pm

Bumping and pulling my hair out. Tonight, 9 pm EST!
Gurns
Sojourner
Posts: 554
Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2001 5:01 am

Postby Gurns » Fri Nov 22, 2002 8:23 pm

<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="Verdana, Arial">quote:</font><HR><font face="Verdana, Arial" size="2">Originally posted by Ashiwi:
Bumping and pulling my hair out.</font><HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Ah, one o' them strange elven pre-wedding rituals.
Snurgt
Sojourner
Posts: 301
Joined: Sat Sep 15, 2001 5:01 am
Contact:

Postby Snurgt » Fri Nov 22, 2002 9:51 pm

Nod, Lorgan likes em bald.

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Snurgt take no prisoner.
old depok
Sojourner
Posts: 572
Joined: Thu Feb 14, 2002 6:01 am
Location: Philadelphia PA USA

Postby old depok » Tue Nov 26, 2002 6:10 pm

I was honored to be part of this event!

Happy hunting together!

Depok

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