A Letter That Brings the Past to Life

The city of Suzail sprawls beneath the pale glow of the setting sun. Its streets are alive with the bustling energy of traders, scholars, and common folk all going about their business. Yet, for those who know the city well, there’s an undeniable pull in the air today, a sense of something forgotten stirring back to life.

Each of you received a letter, carefully folded and sealed with an unfamiliar rune. The paper is slightly frayed at the edges, the ink dark and precise. The message is brief but enough to spark a flicker of recognition — or perhaps confusion:

“The door you left closed has begun to open. What you have forgotten remembers you.”

For some, this summons evokes memories of a time long past — the quiet, often solitary years spent at the School of the Arcane, where bonds were formed over quiet study sessions, late-night debates, and the discovery of something greater than any of you had imagined. But those days are gone, buried under layers of time and choice. Or so you thought.

The letter’s arrival feels like an echo from a forgotten past, pulling you back to a time you left behind, to the memories you’ve tried to suppress. But it’s not just the city you’re returning to. It’s each other.

The spires of Suzail stand as proud and gleaming as they did in your youth, each familiar corner and cobblestone calling to memory the days you once spent here. For those who never left, it’s a city that has remained vibrant with opportunity, growth, and echoes of your time at the School of the Arcane. For those returning after years away, the sights and sounds bring a complex mixture of nostalgia and unease.

With your paths converging once again in Suzail, questions and memories rise to the surface, accompanied by the lingering shadow of your group’s fifth member. Though the years have blurred the details, there is no question that something — or someone — has drawn you back. It is here, in the city that was both the birthplace of your friendship and the source of an untold mystery, that your journey begins again.

And as you cross the city toward your old meeting place, you feel a spark of familiar anticipation — and perhaps, the distant echo of a warning. Whatever it is you’ve come to uncover, it waits in the heart of Suzail, as eager as you are to reveal its secrets.

There’s a shared unease as you gather in the dimly lit café, the soft murmur of voices the only sound in the room. What is it that calls you back to Suzail, to the Academy? And what is it that you’ve forgotten?

Diego Goldbow disembarks from the ship he had booked passage, thanking the captain and crew as he does. Checking his pack and his lute, thinks to himself yep, all here and here we are...home. As he makes his way down the lane toward Torch Street, his muscle memory kicking in and guiding his steps, it's like I never left he chuckles to himself. The sea breeze blowing through his should length black hair and the across his exposed chest from his opened vee neck shirt. His blue paisley over coat almost too much for this day but it completes his outfit, so it stays. Around one corner then another street up to Swordstars Lane, now he starts paying attention to those roaming the streets, making note of the current fashion and what updates he'll need to make while in town. 

Without hardly a thought, he steps onto the porch of  Vardrim's Rooming-House and spots the old rocker still setting there, his thoughts drift back in time. This is where he first met his mentor, his teacher...that ol'bard Elendar Stormfall. Placing his hand the empty rocker, he whispers to himself, those were simpler times old friend, I haven't forgotten, his hand moves to his breast pocket where he keeps the last letter from his friend. Shaking the thoughts of yesteryear from his mind, he enters and secures boarding for a week. Heads to his room and drops his back. A smile crossing his face, now to the Old Dwarf and let's see if anyone else is here yet.

He makes a right at the next street and comes out on the Promenade, the heart of the city. Street vendors with all sorts of wares, food carts and street performers crowd the busy street. Diego navigates it with ease, he passes the Dragon's Jaw, recalling it used to be called the Red Sword back in the day. A meeting place for business dealings and over priced watered down drinks. They never tip well at that place, he recalls. The next street up the Old Dwarf comes into view, with it's grand front porch with a view of Cormyr's Royal Court directly across the Promenade from it. He remembers spending many a night on that porch with his friends, laughing at some of the current fashions, debating, and speculating about just what happens in the royal court anyways? 

He stops at the door, runs his hands through his hair in an attempt to fix it, checks his breath and wishes he had a sprig of mint to chew on. Taking a deep breath he pushes the door open, a smile crossing his olive skinned face as he enters, and announces himself,  Is this the best that clan Obarskyr has to offer the fine folk of Suzail? A run down tavern that serves elven wine? The old dwarf at the bar slams his fist down, his face flushed with anger as he turns to eye the loud mouthed newcomer. Now youz listens to me and youz hears me good, weez don't be needed no outsiders com'n in my place, why my father built this fine estab'ment with his own two...his voice trails off as he looks upon Diego, 6'2, olive skin, flowing black mane and a smile that could melt the heart of a frost giant, a smile the size of the head of his warhammer spreads over his face, Diego me boy! he hobbles over to him and wraps him up in a bear hug, where'yaz been laddie? And wherez da reast of yourz bunch? 

Diego watches as he makes his way to him, noticing the leg has gotten worse with the passing years. He looks around the inn, not seeing his friends, I was hoping they'd be here, looks like I've beat them. Say, you still got a bottle of the Kings Ransom laying around? I'd love some if you do. The old dwarf slaps his shoulders hard, Youz bet'cha lad, and the first ones on the house iff'n you can make me cry with a song. Never one to turn away local talent, Obar was a godsend to the local players. Just for you old friend.

Diego makes his way to the front of the hearth, perching himself on the table there, it used to be their table when the weather was bad out. Pulls his lute and plays a song of a beautiful young lady and a handsome tramp, of unspoken love and missed opportunity, growing up and apart without either ever realizing what was at stake and what was lost. performance 18 

A wizard in a frumpy grayish wizard’s hat and grayish / black traveling cloak stands leaning against a post in Suzail, looking at the front doors of the Academy.  This is where it all began…. Memories rush to his mind, as he looks at the front door his arms go out in front of him, there are a couple of tattoos of wavy lines and stars on his forearms as he extends them, hands moving as if in a familiar pattern, he is reproducing something from a memory, closing his eyes as he remembers.  He starts laughing to himself.  Scared the bejeezus out of me!  He puts his arms down and focuses on the door again, then shaking his head brings himself back to the current day.  The letter.  The calling to return.  And now, here you are....

As he's standing there getting his bearings, he sees a familiar face walking by him in the street, he hasn't observed him.  And he wouldn't recognize me, would he?  He pulls off the whitish beard, putting it into the interior pocket of his cloak, scratching his brownish gray stubble on his cheeks and then he starts to walk, following him.  I bet he's heading to the Old Dwarf.  The softie.  Probably step right up to play again, just like he never left... Vorenus follows at quite a distance back, following the familiar route that was taken after class to their old haunt, licking his lips as he imagines the first pint hitting his lips.  He keeps walking, lost in his thoughts.  He pulls out the letter, glancing at it for a moment, then stuffs it back in his pocket.  

He walks into the establishment and takes an immediate turn to the left, pulling his hat low and he angles up to the bar, away from his friend and co-conspirator Diego.  Let's see what he does, see if I'm wrong.  He finds the darkest corner table, hunches over his beer and takes a few gulps and waits for it.  Yep.  There it is, here we go.  He listens to the song for a moment, losing himself in the words and the tune despite himself.  He comes alert as the song nears the end, a mischievous grin appearing on his face.  He stands and moves forward a little, leaning against a support post he moves his arms a little, first one way, then another.  He has learned how to hide the motions such that anyone seated around would feel that Vorenus had an itch or was stretching, he's careful with how he does this.  

Vorenus sends a message into the mind of his friend, saying "You old crooner you, soon you'll have 'em all swooning in here.  We should have a beer together, ole buddy.."  Right at the end of the song he sends it.  He observes that Diego manages to hold it together despite his message, so he adds a little bit of his own tune to the end of the song, for comedic effect.  He projects toward Diego the sound of a trombone playing funny failure notes.. "Womp womp womp womp - - waaaaah."  Right as it finishes, then he starts giggling to himself, holding his hand over his mouth.  

The young-looking woman passed quickly through the East Gate as she entered the city of Suzail.  Her long brown hair is worn loose, thin whisps of it going all over after her travels. She wears a heavy, off-white robe with purple trim, giving the appearance of a cleric of some sort.  She moves with purpose, not running but certainly trying to go swiftly. 'If only I hadn't stopped to help those merchants get their contract written down,' she thought. 'I hope the others haven't had to wait too long. Ah! I hope I haven't worried them!' 

Iromae Quinaea had been on this path innumerable times before, though it had been over a year since she'd last been in the city.  Today her thoughts were on her friends, but she couldn't help but think of the many times she'd come this way with her parents. Returning home from delivering crates of spices to the various cities to the north.  Or perhaps some meeting to establish a new trading partnership. Whatever the reason for going, it was always nice to be back. 'But all that business was long ago.'  She smirks to herself. 'A different life! I should be thinking on my schoolmates. We'll finally all be together again!'  The thought brought a smile to her face. 

As she continued on her way along The Promenade, her attention was also drawn to her right as she passed the temple of Oghma. The building had served as the residence of those who followed Deneir here in Suzail as well.  'I wonder if Lesarys would be in? I'll have to try to check and see while I'm here'.  It was that woman who had helped turn Iromae from her struggles as a merchant to becoming a priest of Deneir.  Not to mention urging her into studying at the School of the Arcane in the first place. 

From there it was just a couple more blocks to The Old Dwarf. The tavern looks just as she remembered it. Her steps slowed a bit as she took in the place and thought of all the times she and her friends had hung out there. 'And now they're all waiting inside, probably wondering where I'm at!'  When she eventually reaches the door, she doesn't stops, swinging the door open and stepping inside. 

Those inside see a slightly built half-elf woman with pale skin and a slight natural blush to her cheeks.  It appears she wears scale mail beneath her robe, and carries a backpack and a few pouches at her belt. An amulet around her neck prominently displays the purple eye and candle symbol of Deneir. She peers about the room a moment with her bright blue eyes, but it is her elvish-looking ears that pick up the strange trombone notes at the end of the performer's song. 'Vorenus!' 

It is Diego though that she finally spots first.  Not too hard as he is perched on the hearth and has the attention of much of the crowd. 'Of course, right there at our place by the hearth!'  It takes a bit more looking around to spot Vorenus sitting in a dark corner. It's really his giggling that clinches the fact that is him. 'Why can't he ever be serious!'  The tiny bit of Diego's music she had heard had seemed quite nice.  'Why did he have to spoil it?' 

Then she realized she hasn't seen Shenua. 'Oh no! Did she not make it?'  A worried look starts to pass over her face. 'Could something have happened to her?'  Preoccupied with her concern, she failed to realize she was still standing right in front of the door.  It's only when a pair of dwarves tries to enter and almost bump into her that she snaps out of her thoughts. "Oh, excuse me! I'm so sorry!"  She quickly steps aside and slowly starts to make her way towards the hearth. 

"There they are", Shenua thought as she peeked through the window of the Old Dwarf, her slender, claw-tipped fingers resting lightly on the glass while the faintest of smiles curved her lips. How many years had passed since she had last seen her former classmates? Too many, she answered silently. It was odd—she had always believed the bonds she had forged with them were shallow, yet here she was, her heart stirring at the sight of them gathered in their old place. For a moment, if felt as if no time had passed at all. But it had, they had changed and so had she.

As she reflected on this, her gaze shifted briefly from her old companions to her own reflection in the glass. Noticing her hair was still tied, Shenua reached up and removed the slim lockpick securing her bun, letting turquoise strands tumble to her shoulders. It was an old habit of hers—why bother with a ribbon or elastic when a tool at hand would suffice? The lockpick, which worked as her arcane focus, was more than enough.

She smoothed her hair, tucking it behind her pointed ears, and lingered on her reflection. The turquoise hair matched her irises, while the black sclera hinted at her Tiefling heritage, all contrasting her gray pale skin. Tall and slender, Shenua’s figure was almost willowy. She wore a well-fitted, high-collared coat in deep brown with intricate embroidery along the edges. Beneath it, an slightly lighter brown tunic was fitted to her waist by a broad belt. Fitted pants and tall leather boots complemented her look, that was both elegant  and practical. Back in her student days in Suzail, she’d cared about her appearance but hadn’t had the means to dress as she liked. Fortunately, that had changed. Gone where the days where she and her family struggled about money, as she had finished her studies and earned earned a well deserved place at the Guild of Naturalists and Artificers. But still, she preferred practical clothing over too many needless embellishments.

Shenua stored the lockpick safely in the coat’s inner pocket and adjusted the shoulder bag that accompanied her everywhere. Small and light as it looked, it contained so many things vital to her. She opened it, taking a moment to find what she needed. Despite her usually meticulous nature, locating something inside a bag of holding always took a bit of time. Her fingertips brushed against the end of a rope, a crowbar, the smith’s tools. Ah! There it was—the letter. She pulled it out and checked the envelope, noting once again the strange rune on it. A rune Shenua didn’t recognize. At first, this had annoyed the artificer, but intrigue quickly took over. Was this connected to the Silent Runes? Had they not hidden them away as carefully as they’d thought? And why was this surfacing now, after so many years? Too many questions, and Shenua didn’t yet have the answers. She glanced back through the window. Perhaps, together, they would uncover them. This time, she didn’t have to worry about how the discovery of the Silent Runes might impact her studies. She was no longer a young student, but an adult woman with an established position in her guild and no longer a burden on her parents. This was the time to solve the mystery.

Moving from the window to the door, letter in hand, Shenua stepped inside. She thought only Diego and Vorenus had made it, but she quickly spotted Iromae too. "And what about... hmm...?", the tiefling had the sense that someone else was missing too, though she couldn’t quite place who. Weren’t there five of them, after all? Shaking her head at the odd lapse in memory, she entered the Old Dwarf, heading straight towards the spot where Diego was playing. Gods, she had missed his music, and she hadn't realized how much until she heard those familiar chords again. Standing a few steps away from him and from Iromae, she smiled slightly at them but didn't speak just yet. Shenua wanted to wait for the music to finish. As she did, her gaze met Vorenus’s, and the tiefling offered the wizard a simple nod.

As Diego's mind processes the words suddenly coming to him he can't help but smile, then completely caught off guard by the sound effects. Vorenus! as he leans over placing his instrument on the hearth, you childish son of... his words left hanging in the air as he looks up, scanning the tavern for his old friend and his eyes land on Iromae. He mouths her name, words failing the young bard for the first time. He moves to her in a flash, picking her up in his arms and swinging her around, Iromae! setting her back on her feet his eyes catch another familiar face, Shenua! as he reaches for her, embracing her in a tight hug. Taking a step back he sees the wizard, spotting him setting next to the door he quickly makes his way to him, taking him in a brotherly hug, pulling away his hands resting on the mans shoulders, still the trickster! Are you ever going to start acting your age?

Diego turns so that he can take in all his friends, his face suddenly slack as he realizes something's off, like he just got the end of a song and has forgotten the last verse. The feeling quickly fades, Obarskyr, bring the bottle and cups. Today we celebrate! 

His eyes scanning his friends, Vorenus looks older, but still has that mischief klint in his eyes, forever young at heart. Iromae wearing her hair down now, it suits her, the way it frames her face, the face that has stirred a thousand dreams. All decked out in her vestments? Ever faithful, and ever beautiful. And Shenua! Wow, she never looked like that in school. Grown up looks good on her. Wonder if she ever learned to cut loose? it's so good to see you all again, now which one of you sent me the letter? Vorenus?

As Diego’s performance finishes and approaches them, Shenua does the same. With a couple of long and precise steps, she moves toward the bard and the cleric, her smile softening as she stands before them. It would be the perfect moment for a kiss or a hug, but she does neither. In that awkward split second where she has to decide whether to make the final move or stay as she is, Diego decides for her. He first hugs Iromae, and then does the same with her. That moment brings the tiefling back to all the times anyone tried to hug her years ago, Diego included, and how she had reacted—stiffening in the best-case scenario, or pushing the other person away in the worst. On this day, not only does she welcome Diego’s embrace, she even returns it, resting her head briefly against his chest, and wrapping her arms around him for just a moment.

"Diego," she says, gracefully stepping back, "I’m glad to see you. Your music sounds as beautiful as ever. I’ve missed it." She turns to Iromae, cupping her cheek gently. Her hand might resemble a demon's, but it is as capable of tenderness as it is of tinkering with the smallest gears. "Iromae, dear, you look as beautiful as always. I’ve missed you too." As quickly as she touched the cleric’s cheek, Shenua withdraws her hand and steps back, once again keeping a slight distance from both the bard and the cleric. It’s been a fleeting moment, but it’s certainly the closest either of them has ever been to the artificer.

Shenua then turns to address Vorenus, and she offers him a smile. "And how are you, Vorenus? I hope the Weave has treated you well these years" she says, without approaching him in the slightest.

When Diego asks about the letter, Shenua raises and shows hers. "Do you mean to say that you think one of us sent these? Well, I can assure you, it wasn’t me. I don’t even recognize this rune," she says, clearly displeased. "Do any of you know anything about it?", she asks as she scans the room for the quietest empty table and begins to move towards it. When Obarksyr brings drinks, she nods appreciatively, even more so if a good glass of wine is on the menu. She didn’t drink alcohol as a student, but she’s not a student anymore.

"Oh!" Iromae exclaims as Diego picks her up and swings her around. When set back down, she chuckles softly. "Well, it's good to see you too Diego!"

In the flurry of activity, she sees Shenua when Diego goes over to her.  "Hi! It's so good to see you too Shenua! I'd worried you'd not make it." When the woman comes to her after giving Diego a hug she gives her a smile.  She tilts her head, looking back with curiosity as she touches her cheek briefly. 'Seems a story there,' she thinks, recalling how she used to act back when they were in school. 'Maybe we'll have time to talk later.'

She finally moved over to greet Vorenus. Overhearing Diego's comment, she refrains from adding any more critique to what is, after all, his usual penchant for tricks.

When others bring up the letter, Iromae quickly responds. "I certainly didn't write it. Somehow, I didn't think it was one of us."

Vorenus can’t help to break into a full hearted laugh when he sees Shenua, and he nods toward her, his mood lightened by his tomfoolery with Diego.  He leans to the side and catches the eye of Ironmae, he continues to grin like a madman and blushes a little.  Then he comes back round to Diego, saying “Never!   I refuse to act my age!  Hah!  Gotcha good, Diego m’boy!  Yes, a bottle, that sounds good!  Whoooo it’s good to see all of you!”  He laughs and smiles, but there is a slight tension in his face that you can detect, something is clearly on his mind and lying hidden behind his smile..  When Shenua greets Vorenus, he performs a deep, mock bow, saying “Oh, it has treated me well, so good.  How about you, star pupil?  Have you mastered conjuring elementals and having them do a jig for you yet?  If not, I imagine it is on the cusp of your skills.  I am sure that you have progressed so far since we met last..”  

 As they are walking to the table, Diego mentions, “the letter..”.  He turns around and looks at him, pulling his out of his pocket.  “Alas, I can’t claim this one.  Not my trickery.  Does anyone recognize the script?  Or does anyone recall what the hell it is talking about?  I feel like…” as he sits. “We are missing someone.  That there is someone else that should be here…”. He looks up, scanning everyone’s face.  “Do any of you feel that way?”  He takes a bigger gulp of wine than normal, wiping his mouth, and meeting all of their eyes, looking from one to the other.  His hands are restlessly holding the wine glass, spinning it around between his hands, being quickly drained.  

Diego grabs his instrument as they go. He pulls the chairs out for the ladies, making sure everyone has some wine as Vorenus speaks. When he shows his letter Diego notices the rune etched on it, he then pulls a his own letter from a jacket pocket. Are they the same rune?

When he makes mention of someone missing Diego's face goes slack. oh thank the gods, I thought it was just me. I can't put my finger on it, it's like my subconscious knows something's not right, something or someone is missing but I can't seem to focus on it. I've tried drinking the feeling away, I've travelled doing odd jobs here and there to help get in to every library I've come across, even took a job in Westgate for a vampire noble just for the opportunity of spending a week in his library hoping to find anything that might help me remember but nothing. I was starting fear I may be going mad.

He looks around the table as he talks, opening his mouth to continue when he sees it again, there out of the corner of his eye the shadow. He quickly turns his head to try to get a better look at it, just as he's done a thousand times before and just like those times, nothing is there. He quickly turns back to his friends, inadvertently locking eyes with Shenua, those eyes...he gives her a smile, picking up his glass of wine, and you ladies? tilting his glass in her direction before raising the glass to his lips and sipping.

Shenua listens quietly as the conversation flows, swirling the wine in her glass and taking small measured sips from time to time. When Iromae addresses her, she responds, "I would never have missed it—not after that letter. It found me back home in Marsember, so the journey here was short. Had I been stuck in one of the labs I’m sent to work in from time to time, it would have taken much longer."

At Vorenus's mock, her brow arches slightly. Some things never change, do they? The constant tension between them over arcane matters felt as familiar as ever. She replies, "I've had my improvements. But my focus lies elsewhere these days." The tiefling then pulls a small contraption from the inner pocket of her coat. It fits perfectly in her hand, and looks like an intricate mechanism of brass and copper composed of a short barrel, a trigger, a tiny scope and several exposed gears.

Though such devices are rare in Faerûn and mostly known only in very specific circles, the party can be quite sure that what Shenua is holding is a weapon. She tilts it slightly to one side, and after it makes whirring noise that seems to satisfy its owner, Shenua points it at the group with a faint grin, saying, "Pew pew" as she pulls the trigger. A brief flash of light sparks at the barrel's tip and immediately after, Iromae, Diego, and Vorenus feel an odd rush of energy coursing through them. Shenua quickly tucks the device back into her coat, but before that, she pauses for a split second to check it — the pride of an artisan satisfied with her creation plain on her face.

When Vorenus mentions the missing person, and Diego adds his part, Shenua nods gravely. "I’ve felt that too. Honestly, I’ve pushed that feeling to the corner of my mind for so long. But if all of us are feeling it," she glances at Iromae questioningly, though she assumes their half-elf companion has felt it too, "it has to be related to… well, you know what." She falls silent for a moment, looking down at her letter before turning her gaze to Vorenus's and Diego's. "May I?" she asks, gesturing toward their letters, and to Iromae's as well. If they hand them over, Shenua inspects them closely, comparing the paper, the runes, flipping them back and forth, and placing them side by side on the table, searching for any difference or detail that might be of interest. As she does so, she absentmindedly takes a sip from her wine, deep in thought. (ooc: @ddp, do you want us to do the rolls? If that is the case, Investigation: 23)

Noticing Diego's look and how he raises his glass toward her, her lips curve into a smile as she lifts her own glass in response, lightly clicking it against his. "A vampire, huh?", she asks, while a though crosses her mind: "Still the reckless boy," she thinks with a mix of fondness and concern.

Vorenus looks on at the item with fascination, touching it with his finger, listening to the whirring sounds, he scratches the stubble on his face.  “Wow Shenua, I’m impressed!  This is waaay beyond anything I remember you doing back at school.  Your skills certainly have grown!  And yes, I do feel - better!  Stronger somehow… from this little thing.  I feel like I could blow a tornado out of mouth that would knock down buildings!  It is a good feeling..”  He gives her an uneasy smile.  

Vorenus offers his letter to Shenua, looking at the other letters as well, comparing the runes and the handwriting.  “Who was that professor, the one that was so good at runes?  Is there anyone at the school that can help?  Remember the one I pissed off when I translated “Ass” into Infernal and had that as my rune that I inscribed on that little box of holding?  Oh he was not happy….never got the hang of Infernal."  Vorenus looks over at Shenua again, bowing his head slightly, saying "Despite having an excellent teacher."  Vorenus smiles at her and pours himself another glass of wine, topping anyone else off who wants it.  His eyes go wide when Diego mentions a vampire, curious to hear more.  He starts looking at his neck casually, glancing at it in between sips.  

OOC: Yes, I'm okay with you rolling for skill checks. Just know that there will be times I won't feel it necessary to roll, and if you roll for yourself and you roll low, it might affect how much success you enjoy. You can always explain what kind of check you think you might need and to ask me to roll if needed, if you're okay with waiting to find out if you succeeded or failed (and are okay with me rolling for you).

The letters contain the following message, written in flowing, deliberate script:

To the Seekers,

You are called back to Suzail, where paths diverged and stories began. Each of you carries a piece of the legacy— the knowledge you sought to preserve, the melody that you alone could hear, the mechanical precision of your discoveries, and the power you craved to command.

The door you left closed has begun to open. What you have forgotten remembers you.

These threads of the past now weave into a greater tapestry. Come to the Old Dwarf, where echoes of shared purpose linger still. Await the one who will reunite what was lost and uncover the truth obscured by time and magic.

This summons is not merely to recall the bonds of old but to test your resolve. What you seek lies ahead, shrouded in mystery and peril. The question remains: Will you rise to meet it?

— The Rune Keeper

The same unfamiliar rune sealed all four letters.

For Shenua: (I will put character-specific information in spoilers. If you choose to read something identified for someone else, please make note that your character does not know this information unless the character(s) who do share it. Anything that absolutely has to remain secret will be sent through PM.)

Iromae briefly thanks Diego as he pulls out the chair for her, taking the glass of wine as it is poured. "Marsember?" she replies to Shenua. "I had just arrived in Arabel, so not too far for me either."  Slowly she sips at her wine, for a moment just taking in the fact that all her old friends are here. 

When Shenua pulls out the contraption, she looks at it with interest. Not really the sort of area of study she was interested in, but she still can appreciate the amount of work that went into it.  And there's always a hint of curiosity as to how the thing works. "It really is quite amazing Shenua." With the tiefling having shared, she feels that she probably ought to say something. "I certainly don't have anything quite so amazing to share with you all.  As a priest of Deneir I have traveled quite a bit, especially to the further reaches of Cormyr that don't have a lot of access to books or scholars.  Lots of interesting places and people." 

She quickly pulls out her letter when Shenua asks, handing it to her.  "Await the one..." she reads. "Surely that doesn't just mean we all sit here in The Old Dwarf and wait, does it?"  

Diego shows genuine interest in Shenua's new tool, interesting, have ever considered applying your talents to musical instruments? 

Returning to his wine, his gaze shifting to Iromae. His eyes running along the lines of her face, half listening to Vorenus as he talks, until he gets to the part about the rune. Spitting his wine as he laughs out loud, oh I remember that. That was great. I've made a mess, excuse me a minute. 

As he gets up he'll glance at everyone's glass, I'll get us another bottle while I'm up. 

He makes his way to the bar, Obar my good dwarf and old friend, another bottle for our table and the use a dish rag if you don't mind. As he moves about getting together, say, has there been anyone in lately looking for us or maybe left a letter for us? 

Shenua stores her eldritch cannon safely away before Vorenus can lay a finger on it. When he reacts to the weapon's protective effect, she gives him a strange look. A tornado that could knock down buildings? A good feeling? What in the Nine Hells? Vorenus had always been an odd one, but this doesn’t feel right, does it? The tiefling glances at Diego and Iromae, raising her eyebrows slightly, as if to ask, "Is it just me, or is he being weirder than usual?" In any case, as soon as the wizard reminisces about that Infernal rune, Shenua rolls her turquoise-over-black eyes quite visibly. She never understood why Vorenus had written the rune that way when she had explained it to him in such detail. The only conclusion she had reached at the time was that he was incapable of taking anything seriously—not the subject, and certainly not the time she had dedicated to him.

When Diego asks about applying her talents to musical instruments, she replies, "Oh, wouldn’t that be amazing? Not just musical instruments, but being able to apply any magical effect to any object. That would be a dream come true. The possibilities would be infinite, and the advancements to our society and its people limitless," she pauses, the uncharacteristic display of passion fading to a contemplative silence as she thinks of this.

At this point she looks at Iromae and says, "What you say is quite impressive. Spreading knowledge to the farthest reaches of Coromyr is certainly commendable. That sounds like something to be proud of to me, Iromae".

After spending some time investigating the letters, Shenua muses, "Interesting."  Then, addressing the group, she says, "There are slight differences in the handwriting and even the texture of the paper. And look—these particular sentences seem aimed to each of our areas of expertise. It’s as if someone took special care to make these letters feel specific for each of us." She touches the paper of her own letter, smiling to herself as she does so. Not smooth, not too rugged—just the precise texture that pleased her fingertips. She is certain she has chosen this exact brand and type of parchment before when she has needed it to work on blueprints and notes.  "Also, I’m 100% certain there’s magic woven into the letters." she concludes. Turning to Iromae, who had asked whether they were simply supposed to wait, Shenua shrugs, suggesting that she's not certain, but that it seems that way. "Allow me to try to detect the kind of magic inscribed in the letters."

With that, the artificer pulls out a lockpick from her coat, places her hands a few inches above the papers and mutters something in what appears to be Infernal: "Revela mihi secreta tua."  Her eyes begin to glow and a swirling layer of white and purple replaces their usual turquoise and black. Thin tendrils of those same colors begin to extend from the letters up to the fingertips of her right hand, and to the tip of the lockpick in her left hand. With careful, precise movements, Shenua traces her fingers over the letters. At specific points where she seems to sense the Weave more intensely, she motions outward, as if "zooming out" particular sections of the paper. She spends several minutes focused entirely on the ritual, unaware of anything else happening at the table, until she finishes with a muttered, "...There. Got you."

When Shenua begins casting detect magic, Vorenus leans forward, interested at the results and watching how she performs the spell on the letters.  He reaches into his pack and pulls out his spell book, which looks a little beaten around the edges and disorganized.  He opens it up and starts flipping pages, saying “I know what you’re doing there, very good Shenua, just a flick of the wrist, your skill is excellent, yes!”  A couple of loose pages drop out of the book and onto the ground, he leans over to swipe up his notes and put them back in the book.  He finds a page in the mid portion and starts nodding, “Yes, yes, here it is.  I thought that I had something in here to help with languages as well, but I’m mistaken…”. He watches and waits to see the result of her spell and its conclusions.

Diego returns to the table with the package, just in time to watch Shenua, he smiles at her and says in infernal, Decoris, Probe! Probe! He sets the package down,  wipes up his mess before topping off everyone's glass, and the spell results?

When Shenua gave her a brief glance over Vorenus' comment about her contraption's effect, Iromae merely shrugged. 'He's just trying to sound powerful. Just like always.  Though why he's always so boastful I'll never understand.'  As the others discuss Vorenus' prank about the rune, she does recall how upset the professor was. 'Annoyed me too...' she starts to think, until the wizard's next comment of praise for the tiefling's efforts at teaching. 'Ah! That man can be so kind! Why isn't that the side that he shows more often!' 

Then, as Shenua commends her description of what she'd been up to, she gives her an awkward smile. "Oh, well thank you. But it's really nothing. I mean, I enjoy doing it."  There is a tiny sigh though, barely noticable, at the end. 'It has been kind of rough being on the road, mostly by myself.'  She takes up her glass after Diego fills it, drinking more of the wine. 

The casting of the spell to detect magic gathers her attention. It is fascinating to see how she does it, the details a bit different than how she would accomplish it with divine magic.  In the end though she knew the result is essentially the same.  Diego's words echo her own curiosity as to what else Shenua might find. Her mention of the different papers brings her to reach for the note she had received, to study the texture as the tiefling had. It seems quite normal to her, nothing remarkable at all.  But it does eventually occur to her, 'This is the paper I always use, just right for a calligrapher's pen. It's like this could be my paper.' 

Diego makes his way to the bar, "Obar my good dwarf and old friend, another bottle for our table, and the use of a dish rag if you don't mind." As the bartender moves about getting things together, the bard continues, "Say, has there been anyone in lately looking for us or maybe left a letter for us?"

Obar chuckles deeply, his beard jiggling as he sets a glass down on the counter. "Aye, lad, always keepin' me on my toes with yer smooth talk, eh? I'll get that bottle fer ye in a jiffy. Dish rag's on the house, but don' be gettin' sentimental over it." He winks and moves to fetch the requested items.

As he places the bottle and the rag on the bar, he furrows his brow and strokes his beard thoughtfully. "Now that ye mention it ... Had a fella come by not long ago, didn’t leave a name, but somethin’ about 'seekers' came up. Bit of a peculiar sort — kept his hood up the whole time, barely said a word more than needed. Left a package fer ya, though." Obar pulls a small, weathered parcel from under the bar and sets it down. It's wrapped in plain brown paper, tied with a length of simple twine. There’s no writing on the outside, but it feels unusually heavy for its size.

"Figured if anyone’d come callin’ fer the likes of you lot, it’d be worth keepin’ an eye on," Obar adds with a knowing grin. "Y’know, in case it were trouble — or somethin’ else exciting." He leans closer, lowering his voice. "Best open it here, though. Jus’ in case it’s somethin’ … unexpected."

For Shenua: