Letters A letter to a new friend?

[Tita]

You, Callarn Osfort , come across a gently floating envelope, made of high-quality material. On the backside is a pattern of runes, and on the front is a similar one that seems to have faded. It's addressed to "Someone looking for a friend" and the sender is "Also someone looking for a friend" Opening it reveals a scented letter made with patterned paper.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆​

To my future friend,
I, Tita the Great and Glorious, do not know who you are yet. and you, the Great and Glorious, also do not know who I am yet. But I aspire that this letter will be a start for a friendship. I am so lonesome, confined in the safety of my hidden tower in the spines. And wish for the bond of someone else, the bond of someone from a faraway place.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.​

I hope that you will write to me of the happenings in your life. And I will write to you about the happenings of my own. You can confide in me your troubles, and I will give you great advice. But to start off with something light, I will tell you in this letter of my own recent happenings.
I have mastered the craft of decorative letters. As you can see by the clear example of this letter. The shine in this paper was achieved by careful placement of the most minuscule of gem powder in the still wet stage of paper. While the paper itself may be a bit more coarse to the touch, the shine this technique gives it is most marvelous.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．​

Now write to me with your reply.
Just put it in this letter's envelope, and drop a pinch of your blood on the rune in the back. And the letter will find its way back to me, and when I write my reply, it will find its way back to you.

From your future friend, Tita the generous and confined.

Current date and time.​

 

[Callarn]

The envelope returned warped by a different kind of magic, imbued with runes that to a skilled practitioner of the art would seem like a complex pidgin of eloquent turns of angle and stabbing strokes of the quill. It wasn't the ink or the paper that bore the wards of protection, but rather the cuts that followed the pattern with the slow squirming of newborn eels. A new scent accompanied it also, glued with a dab of pine resin was a handful of lemongrass, which tinged the letter slightly.

+++ TO MY NEWEST AND DEAREST HALLUCINATION +++​

It might have been the sand and snow, the black opium or the lacrimosa, the loneliness or head trauma, but when I was chanced upon by this letter I expected it to be a beckon to an eternity of punishment in a realm of perdition. Imagine my shock, then, when writ in it were strange becalming words of a friend that loved me dearly, yet knew nothing of me at all. And then I wondered, for what reason would such kinds words find me? Perhaps you are not a hallucination in the strictest sense, but rather a reflection, a heteronym. Know then that you are a treasure, and I hope to be accompanied for the rest of my life by these dear flights of madness.

I write to you inside the gut of a great beast. Worry not, I have not been eaten, but rather found shelter from this chilling desert night and might even survive to see the break of dawn. It is partly curiosity that keeps me keen on surviving, I wonder what manner of beast would be so spacious and warm on the inside yet have such soft and hairless hide. Perhaps this is some dune giant? Not that I have ever heard any tale of it, my old country of Vel Anir is very much adept at making known nothing of the whimsy of the outside world. Can you believed that before today I knew that there was such a thing as decorative letters? Bastards.

I suppose that to know me you first know the odious institutions that run rampant in Vel Anir. There are the Seven Great Houses - whose rule subverts even the unfounded decrees of our tyrant king -, as well as the nobility and merchant classes. Intrigue and repression of the will of the people is rampant in that sordid little place, upheld by an executive consortium of battlemages known as the Dreadlords. I was part of their number until very recently, but have since my rebellion tortured and killed the Patriarch of House Urahil and taken part in uprising in Vel Uri. This makes me of all Vel Anir's waywards its utmost enemy, although I have on very good authority - my own, in fact - that other discontent Dreadlords are plotting an uprising. Theirs is less radical, however, I fear that they are first and foremost replacers: parties - the political sort - will take the place of houses and instead of kings we'll have elected governors. Elected by whom, you ask? Those they decide.

In short, a very thorny, very stupid business. Rest easy knowing that while all-consuming in my life, it seems that my mind is still capable of thinking of things other than this endless cycle of perversion of the safeguards of the poorest and weakest. For instance, I like grapes. Not just the spirits brewed from them, but the actual fruits. They're tiny and juicy and burst in your mouth so softly and sweetly like kisses. I also miss the kisses of cats and dogs. The streets of Vel Anir were full of strays, and they'd come in to you in bunches if at your feet you dropped some scraps and bones. Things I also miss are music, throwing darts and writing, so please excuse this whole haphazard of half-thoughts and words. Vel Anir was all made of cobbled stones, but in some of the most well-of parts of it you'd see greenery here and there. Shrubs, trees, grass. I'll send you some I saved. I hope they smell as well to you as they do to me.

Also, I am curious. Who are you, Tita? Where are you from? Would you like to meet in the flesh some of these days? Failing that, I would like to exchange some runes with you either way. Most of those I make are martial in nature, but I'd like to see something luminous. Hells, it'd make my day if I got musical runes! - do those exist?

I hope this letter finds you well, and I thank you for your company. Your letter was very pretty.

Ever your friend,
Callarn​

 

[Tita]

A new envelope came, this time to it was attached a small box closed with a string that had a small protection charm.

╔══════════ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ══════════╗
To my ever dear friend Callarn,

what barbarian lands must Vel Anir be to not know of decorative letter!? But I am overjoyed that you now know of them, if ever so late. And worry not, I will send you more of them to lighten your day with great visuals.
Your home seems a hectic place, but it's home nonetheless. I wouldn't be able to imagine leaving my own. But I'm also alone and have no such conflicts to drive me out.
Oh, how you describe those grapes! I wish I could try them too, but none grow in my home. I did recently find a bottle of wine. But I forgot that with my condition and my missing jaw, any drunk wine would immediately fall out. So with it, I ruined my second favorite dress. It is such a shame too, forgetting things you should already know.
The greenery you sent to me smells quite well. In the surroundings of my own home it0s mostly just trees of the Pinophyta family. I'd assume it's because of the high elevation. But part of my tower is a greenery with various plants, and I do like going into there and enjoying myself, So I decided to send you the flower of one.
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
I Tita am a most talented elven wizardess that lives in a tower located by a lake in the Spine. I am not sure of my tower's exact location, but the look outside my window is most pleasant. I myself am a person of aesthetics, I enjoy things that have beauty and giving things beauty. The traditional elven engravings found on every piece of furniture in my tower have such a sense of detail and balance that they are like an inspiration to myself as something I want to also achieve. And with that, I am reminded again of the ruination of my second favorite dress. I can only hope to find a way to fix it.
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
I am not sure if meeting in the flesh would be something I would be capable of doing. I haven't even figured out how to leave this tower, or if I even can leave it. And on the topic of runes, I did not find any musical runes in my various books, nor do I know of them. So instead I sent to you a small music box to give you company.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚Your dear friend, Tita.˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊
╚══════════ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ══════════╝

Inside of the box appear to be, one wilted flower, three empty letters with various decorations on them, a fist-sized music box that has a latch that lets you see the automatation inside and a key to turn to start the music.

 

[Callarn]

The envelope returned without gifts, demurely, even its wards were only tentative.

««—— To Tita in the Tower——»»
​

You have my sincerest sympathy, and admiration for your strength. I too have been maimed, my leg is in ruins, but to live without jaw? I would rather lose use of my other leg and arms than to be denied of a voice. All the same you refuse to be reduced to silence and through the written word you make yourself heard from beyond your tower. Words don't suffice to sing you praise, truly!

So thank you for these papers you've so heartily adorned. Once I have a home, and walls to fill, they'll be hanged as celebration to the friendship we struck. The flower you sent me arrived dessicated and wilted, but all the same I had it jarred. I don't know the first about perfumery, but surely part of it involves dried petals? Perhaps I'll make it my trade. Jest aside, thank you and thank you again for the wondrous music box you sent me. I wouldn't trade it for any amount of runes, musical or not. I find it fascinating, not only is its song mellow or rousing as the heart needs it - I think the camel likes it also -, but I find its workings fascinating also. Could this be elven making? The sorts I dealt with before were from Falwood, and their arts are much different.

On that note, you mentioned being elven. So casually, I can't help but wonder, do you truly not know about the Dreadlords or do you simply not fear us? That life is very much behind me, but all the same I worry you aren't as well informed as you should on what sort of man I was, and how it impacts the man I am today. If it be so, I urge you to seek out our writings, or ask me so that I may send you some I kept. I am sorry for the life I lead, and I wish you no harm.

««—— Yours,——»»
Callarn
╚═══════╝
​

P.S.: I am sorry for your dress. Perhaps rind soap and trickle might help?

 

[Tita]

A slightly damp envelope come. But the letter inside was still dry, and around it was tied a black lace of sharp design.

╭₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪╮
My dear friend Callarn !

It seems that I have misplaced your letter as i prepared the stationary of my own. I would have sent you what I wrote, but the dust on it would put me to too much shame to have my dear friend have to witness it! I dread to think how long you must have awaited my reply, if only my memory could persist in such times where I have responsibilities like dedication to a friend to fulfill.
꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙
How are you? I hope that the music box you received still rouses your heart enough. If my recollection does not fault me, the music box, if small and sturdy in construction, it should be one of dwarven make. Or atleast that is the one that I can no longer find in my tower, because it is with you.
And on the topic of Dreadlords, none of the books in my wast collection seem to have anything that covers such topics. Sure the name is frightful, but you have been nothing but kind to me. And you seem to not walk with that crowd anymore, so what is there to trouble me?
꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙꧙
But, my friend, I haven't written you in such a long time. Tell me of the happenings in your life, are you still surviving frozen nights in a distant desert, or have you finally found a home to hang my letters? Perhaps I should do that too, but it's hard to find space in my tower to showcase these precious letters. I have been occupying myself with textile work. I think I made many a laces. One was perfect to replace the frayed lace of a white dress that I recall wearing most fondly.

I hope this letter finds you in high spirits, and if not, that it outs your spirit into the heights,
Your dear friend Tita¸.·’* ⛧
╰₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪╯