Tea

"Hmmmm..." First the dark green riding robe and then the black one is held against her bone thin frame in front of the tall gothic floor mirror.  After briefly considering each garment, she twists her long faded ashen blonde hair up into the black cap she often wears while working in her lab and once again poses with each robe in front of the mirror.  "Hm...hmm…hmmmm…"  Unable to decide, she turns her yellow ghost-light gaze to the two companions lurking in the bedroom for their opinions.  "Bliss cannot decide."  She asks them in Lordaeron common, but speaks hoarsely and with a strange foreign accent.

Hanging from the wall scone by a long delicate silken thread, the small spindly spider lifts two of her frontal arachnid legs in a shrug.

With roots gliding across the closed lids of a pair of finely crafted mahogany wooden coffins, the enchanted sunflower sings, “You're more trust-wor-thy in gree-een."

The invitation came in the afternoon post. I had written the Marchioness that morning, thanking her for her visit and letting her know that I was well and home from hospital. If there was one thing you could count on, it was the Post Office.

I regarded myself in the mirror one last time. The Marchioness knew who I was, there was no point in hiding behind Miss Curran’s drab facade. At the same time, I wanted to look serious, the female equivalent of a banker’s clerk, perhaps. Fashionable, I hoped, but not too fashionable; prosperous, but not flashy like a Haymarket streetwalker.

The final twinges of sunlight tumbled into Larosa's room as the Night Elf opened the door.  Her nightsabre, Dori, padded between Larosa's legs and the door frame hurrying into the room and heading straight to the nest of blankets the cat had claimed as her own.  Larosa smiled as she watched her companion curdle the nest of blankets and fluffing it up before settling down to sleep. Larosa paused in the doorway  before closing the door and tossing her pack onto the bed.

"It has been a long night, Dori," The blue haired Elf said to no one in particular, happy to hear the words in her native tongue as it echoed briefly in the room," But I'm afraid only you get to sleep right now …"

Tired hands removed the tabard and boots, carefully hanging them up, before a pair of pants and small undershirt followed.  Her hands wanted to reach for her extra large linen sleeping shirt, but instead the Kaldorei made herself reach for her uniform robe.  She had her shift in a few hours and she wasn't going to let someone else pull double duty just because she had spent her sleeping time doing paperwork.  She turned to eye her pack, a sigh esceped her lips as she decided to start pulling out the papers that quietly screamed at her to finish them.

The day was disgustingly bright and cheery. Birds sang as I made my way through the streets of Stormwind to the mailbox, tugging the brim of my hat lower.  I open up the box a sing letter was inside.  As I began to read the coded message from a contact up North, I could sense that familiar presence to my right.

"Nice outfit."

"Thank you," I glance over, eyeing his plain leather clothing, as he went through someone else's mail, "I think your casual look is growing on me."

"I think you wanted the necklace," Lupine's familiar chuckle wafted through the air.

"The necklace is only good for the challenge and the ransom it would have brought me," I smile coyly at the lanky man beside me, "I'm sure you understand."

"Oh I do … I still have it," He let his eyes sidelong to me, waiting for my reaction.

12. Dark
I do not fear the dark though we are very unlikely companions. I am of the sun, an elf born in opposition of the moon, but I do not fight as some would. The moon and the sun are in and of balance within me, as it rightfully should be.

14. New
Not only was she not used to being served in such finery, but the entire concept of being waited on hand and foot was completely new to her. A properly trained butler, an excellent assistant, a skilled killer, a new addition to her house, that was this dark dressed man.

Cerwis sat down on the couch in the front room after moving her work table over from its space on the far wall. It fit right over the coffee table perfectly, like it was designed to.  She coughed again, feeling worse as the night wore on.

Reggie sat next to her and set a cup of hot tea next to the long, tarnished silver box she’d brought home with her, “You’re getting sick, told ya so.”

She chuckled a little and pulled her fifth cigarette out of the night from the nearly empty pack and put it between her lips, “I’m not allowed to get sick, too much stuff to do.” She struck the flint on her lighter and set the end of the stick aflame, inhaling a little to get it going.

The dreams started the same way they always did. Her husband and she, hand in hand in a sunny orchard while their hands, and souls, were slowly bound in an age old ritual. They were two sides of the same coin, meant to be from the day they met though her father disapproved.

They moved to the city and lived happily. She and her father opened a bow shop while he had his duties as a ranger and scout. Time passed quickly as it did in dreams, she’d had the twins and by some miracle they’d all survived. 

So last night in Horde side /realmportal channel, the topic came up towards the end of the Fancy Cakes roleplaying event of thinking about the coffee (or tea) orders your character would likely get as their "regular" if they were to wander in to a coffee shop. This being WoW, alcohol is allowed to be included in your drink order (i.e. spiced rum in your pineapple/mango frappucino) and you can use small/medium/large sizes. This ain't no Starbucks!

So would your character be a small strawberries & cream frappucinno with whip person? Would they hanker for an iced double-shot Americano? Maybe they can't get through a day without a hot raspberry herbal tea with organic honey?

Tell us what tantalizes their tastebuds!

((Prior story by Erendis on this matter  www.rp-haven.com/blog/erendis/dirty_work ))

 “Erendis”

Slowly Meladela looked up from the cup of muddy tea sitting on the small table next to her. Her gaze focused on Septimus Firestarter. “What about her?”

Septimus was up to something again, it had been foolish of her to answer his summons to meet in his apartments in Dalaran. It would be damn stupid of her to drink anything he offered as she pushed the cup aside.

Taking his seat a few feet away from her. He picked up his cup of tea from a small writing table taking a sip before replying. “There was an incident at Amber Ledge and after reviewing the reports I’m not convinced things are all they appear to be.”

Meladela eyed him coldly “Septimus, the last time I did something for you. A few friends died.”

With many apologies for being so late with the notice this year, Artisania will be hosting her Annual Winter's Veil Grand Tea at 2PM ST, Saturday, December 26, in Winterspring, at the little cabin by Starfall Village (I'll get a map up tomorrow).  Dress in your finest (hats and pearls optional) and come for tea, cake, and wishing one another happy holidays.

Horde and Alliance both welcome, despite the language barrier.  I would love to have a warlock around to help summon folks from distant places if possible.  Please feel free to bring your own cakes, cookies and beverages to share; I'll also be sure to have some on hand, and the folks from Fancy Cakes might do some catering as well.

Hope to see you there, and happy holidays to all!

 Horde friendly!

Written in Darnassian on handmade paper.

I’ve done my first Patrols in the city, as a Silver Dragoon!  On my first patrol night, there were a few petty crimes.  Purse snatching, breakings, but nothing to serious and I feel sorry for the person who has to read my reports.  My writing skill are terrible in common but I have been practicing.  I have made some friends. Another sister, in this city of stone.  I thought she was playing a game of Hunt with me. turns out I was wrong.  In the end, we had tea and it was a joy to speak in our tongue and to fully understood for a while. 

We never did get to play hunt. I had to ask if it was alright to play the game, and frustratingly, Miss Zaas, had no clue what I meant.  She thought it was a flirting game, either that or I meant to hunt and kill my new friend.  We had a laugh for a moment over the misconceptions of humans,before deciding to go to the Park for a drink.

" "He's one of those 'Do-Gooders'." The cute, albiet intimidating Elf told her companion.  She was speaking of Father Shadowclaw, who was for the first time meeting an oddly religious thief who's name at this juncture eludes me.  Though as its importance in minimal I will procced with my story.

Miss Braedyn and the Good Father had met only a few weeks before but appeared, from my limited point of view, to be shaping a steadfast friendship.  In fact at the moment I began paying particular attention she was inviting him to tea.  Honestly I don't think she had any right but who am I to say?  Only a simple teacup.

Angela Redway had had her tea parties interrupted by many things in her time in Port William, but this was the first time that it had been by a cannonball crashing through her library.

Gasping, clutching, Lorith awoke with a cry.  "Light!" she called out, eyes wide and chest heaving, blinded by the late morning sunshine.  It shone white off her sheets, white off her fists clenched about the blankets.  The crisp, cool morning air seared her lungs as her wide blue eyes stared out at the familiar furnishings of her bedroom.

 "Light…" she sighed again, panting, her mind reeling.  A figure appeared in the doorway, carrying a cup and saucer.  She stared.

((Hands down the longest character list I've ever written! Thanks guys! <3))

Dear Journal,

There is this little place in Winterspring that Kaganos sniffed out last night. A wonderful place filled with people, only one of which I actually knew. Quite the different crowd that I'm used to, that's for sure. I'll start from the beginning, as much as I can remember this morning.

Ten Scenes from Winter's Veil

1.

Artisania Marveloso set the dagger to the side.

Among glittering gems and the unfinished circles of rings, the scathing curve of the blade bent the lamplight into a golden arc, impossibly perfect. Artisania's hand still hovered over the pommel; slowly, she drew away, to turn her gaze to the open book beside her. A similar weapon was drawn on the page, rich text describing the making and enchanting of so rare a specimen. The Gift of the Elven Magi, an ancient relic of her people's past strength. She had found it in the burning cathedral of Stratholme.

An invitation can be seen posted in all major cities, including Shattrath, Everlook, Gadgetzan and Rachet:

((further information under the cut))

The three women sat around the table as Niviene poured mageroyal tea into the cups that sat before them, a smile playing on her lips as she carefully handled the porcelain teapot. Venibeth watched her knowingly, glancing occasionally at Gaeleana and Beladona as they waited for the priestess to finish. The four of them had been meeting for tea several times a week for some time now and it had become almost a ritual. No one spoke while the tea was being poured lest anyone miss out on anything said. Likewise, silence reigned while sugar, lemon or milk was added and fruit or pastries were served. Once everyone was settled with their tea prepared to their liking the chatter began.

I had a very pleasant evening with Artisania, Teledriath, and Vohlash last night. I saw Tylien, too, briefly, but she was leaving just as I arrived. She looked well, though.

Phials in da Undahcity! Yoo all will be coming to see da glory of our simple shop. Here yoo may mingle wit' low an' high lifes, see an be da scene, loom all dangerous-like in da shadows, et cetera, et cetera.

The first day of the eighth month of the year 28

Dear Lady Howell,

Again I wish to thank you for a most enjoyable afternoon. The tea was excellent and the cakes marvelous, but neither compared with your company. I appreciate your kindness and hospitality more than you know.

Sincerely,

Sowelu, Judiciary Danea, His Majesty's Silver Dragoons

((Written in an elegant, flowing hand on good quality paper))

Miss Sowelu Danae,
Stormwind

My dear Miss Danae,

It was so very nice to meet you at the Keep recently. Please accept my invitation for tea, I'm sure that we have many things to discuss that would be to our mutual benefit.

Sincerely,

They say “Love conquers all.”

Thirty eight years ago, when I fell in love with him, I would have laughed happily and believed you, if you told me that. He would have smiled at my laughter and kissed my hand gently.

Abby stands on a cliff overlooking Deadwind pass near the road which leads to Darkshire.  The sky was emitting an ominous red-haze and she could see the sun trying in vain to reach though Duskwood’s cursed horizon.  Further down the road to the west, the echoing sounds of beating war drums carried through the pass with the wind.  Someone was coming…her thoughts drained away as did the color in her face did when she suddenly felt a piercing pain in her torso.  Upon looking down, she could see an arrow sticking out from her chest, just missing her lung, the blood running from the wound becoming lost in the crimson color of her robes.