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Good Intentions
<i>Dear Sirs and Madams,

Sinu a'manore, greetings to you. On behalf of the Netherseer family, we would like to take this opportunity to thank you for allowing our children the fortuitous possibility of joining with your Tribe. Though they may be young and impetuous, Prisom and Shenawyn have shown great promise. We are proud of the direction they have chosen to take, even if we sometimes do not agree wholeheartedly with their choices.

It would seem that one such decision, to induct their companion, Zahndrin, into the position of our family’s Games Keeper, leaves us with little doubt as to the twins’ competence. Zahndrin has proven to be no less than outstanding in his field. We understand that he has joined with our children in pursuing a place within your Tribe. Should you have the good fortune to put him to the test, we believe you will be pleased with the outcome.

If ever you have need of the Netherseers, please do not hesitate to call upon us. We would prefer this correspondence to remain confidential, of course, as we encourage our children to strike out on their own and prove themselves in their own capacity. They are prideful creatures, and as such, may be offended by this missive.

May the sun guide your steps,
Tharos and Katiran Netherseer</i>

Clenching the parchment tightly in her hand, Shenawyn again resisted the urge to tear it to shreds after reading it for what seemed like the millionth time. How could they do this to her? How did they find out, anyway? Did they think she was a baby? That she couldn’t take care of herself? And why would they leave it in such a careless spot anyway, for her to find, just lying on the blotter of the desk? Did they think she was stupid, or blind?

Pacing back and forth, the young girl muttered darkly to herself, cursing in the tongue of the Sin’dorei. Her carelessly chosen words unwittingly called little imps from the nether and then banished them down below in her next breath. Turning, she saw one pop into view from the corner of her eye, its features twisted in fright. Such a little thing, and so scared. Poor creature. She raised her hand and waved it back from where it had come. Hopefully it would think it had all been just a bad dream.

Did demons have bad dreams? Maybe they did… their nightmares were of frolicking through the flowers and petting bunnies that suddenly bit their fingers. Shenawyn giggled in spite of herself, remembering just such an occasion only a few days ago. She’d been in the park, playing with one of her imps, and a bunny had done exactly that. Needless to say, she’d decided to keep the fluffy-tailed ball of courage, much to her brother’s chagrin.

Just where was Prisom, anyway?
Whistling to himself, Prisom strolled home. It was unlike him to whistle, but he felt in good spirits. The moot they had attended (It was not 'boot' as he had mistakenly thought. Thankfully he had been corrected by Zhandrin) had gone well. The people of Ironsong were proud, accepting, and quite kind. He had even seen at least a few Blood Knights there. In fact, one had asked to speak with him but in all the confusion that sadly did not occur. Ah well, he hoped there would be another time. He had quite a few questions.

Grinning, Prisom halted just outside his door, hefting the parcel under his arm. He had brought his sister sweets and wine to celebrate, and could tell she was just inside. He closed his eyes a moment and thanked his luck that things were going so well, then stepped in, smiling from ear to ear. His smile faltered, however, as soon as he saw her pacing. He could tell something was wrong, but he merely stopped in the doorway and arched his brow at her in question.
“Pris! I'm so glad you're home! Look!" Holding the letter at arm's length in front of her, she extended the offending bit of parchment out to her twin. "They wrote a Thank-You letter! To the Tribe! Can you believe it?" Incredulity laced her plaintive voice as she stared into her brother’s face, awaiting his reaction to the note their parents had written to Ironsong.
Prisom slowly took the letter from his sister and glanced it over, his eyes moving back and forth as he read the entire thing. When he was done he lowered it from from his gaze and slowly turned to look out the door into the street. For a moment, he just stood there.

Finally, still looking off at some point unknown he asked his sister quietly, "Is this a copy or did they never get to send it because you found it?"
Shenawyn stopped in her tracks, her pacing having resumed while Prisom read the letter.

"I don't know. Why would they make a copy? I mean, do you think they would? Do you think they've already sent this off to the Tribe? How embarrassing! What are we going to do, Pris? Should we show it to Zahndrin? They did say some nice things about him... Oh, Pris. Do they think we need to be taken care of all our lives?"

Flickers of purplish arcane energies crackled around the girl as she once more strode back and forth across the length of Prisom's apartment, her agitation readily apparent.
Prisom raised the letter to his eyes again, then turned toward his sister and approched her, offering the letter back.

In a voice that was almost a whisper, he said "Put it back where you found it."
Frowning, she accepted the parchment without a word, her eyes speaking the truth of her emotions as she glared at her brother. It took nearly all her strength of will not to shout at him, "What? Are you crazy?" and instead to merely nod mutely.

For all their disagreements and quarrels, he had never guided her wrong, not once. He had always been there to make sure everything was alright. If he said to put the letter back, he must have a good reason for it. To Fel if she knew what it was. She folded up the finely textured paper and slid it into her pocket.

Before she put it back, she'd make sure Zahndrin at least got to read what they'd said about him.

"What's in the bag?" Airly, she changed the subject, swallowing her irritation.
Prisom searched his twin's face, and then hefted the parcel in front of him saying in a soft tone, "Wine and sweets, to celebrate our acceptance in the Tribe of Ironsong, and to reward you for spurring me into approaching them." He smiled but then his face immediately got serious and he stepped close to his other half, staring at her eyes intently.

"Shen, I am not happy mother and father think we can not take care of ourselves. In fact, my first instinct was to go into a rage and tear up that letter. However, you know them... while they may not understand us, at times, they have always been supportive. They were just trying to help." He snorts and his mouth twists, "If they wish to coddle us with letters to our new leaders such as this, let them. It does not weaken us in our leaders' eyes. It will only show our strong sense of... family."

Finally, he offers her a hopeful smile, eyes slightly dancing as he says, "Now will someone help me unpack?"
Leaning forward, Shenawyn kissed her brother’s cheek softly before pulling back to take the parcel from him, almost dropping it to the ground.

“Sweets and wine? It’s heavy… are you sure you didn’t sneak one of those happy fun rocks in here?” Eyeing him playfully, she let the matter of the letter go. He was right; their parents only wanted the best for them. She and Prisom had spoken just the other day about the grand scheme of things, surmising that perhaps, just perhaps, their parents knew more than they let on.

Regardless, it felt good to hear his praise, as it always did. He was proud of her for approaching Ironsong, which is what mattered most. Her anger diffused as suddenly as the discovered correspondence had brought it on, and she began to unwrap the package.

“Did you see Zahndrin out in the city anywhere? I had called for him earlier, but he hasn’t yet come.”
Prisom smiled and moved to sit down as his sister unpacked the sweet rolls, bread, cheese, and wine. He hoped her face would light up when she found the chocolates as well. They had been hard to aquire, but if her face lit up, Prisom knew it would be worth it.

At her question, he glanced to the door again and said, "No, actually. I have not seen him today. Perhaps we should grow a tree in my rooms? He might stop by on his own more often."

Prisom grinned at Shenawyn, his eyes sparkling with mirth.
Her laughter was abruptly cut off by a squeal as she spied the chocolates nestled in the bottom of the parcel, nearly squished by the heavy bottle of Pinot Noir. The elven girl clamored up onto the table, a smaller letter with a broken seal falling from her pocket as she did so. Oblivious, she opened the box of chocolates, looking up to meet her brother’s eyes with a dimpled smile.

”My favorite! Thank you, Pris!”

Tilting her head to the side, she tried to decide which one to try first, swinging her legs in anticipation and humming idly to herself. She picked out the biggest one, setting it aside for her twin, and settled on a heart-shaped confection for herself. As she popped it into her mouth, she spoke around the candy.

“Where’d oo fine dese?”
Prisom only sat back during the entire display, watching her and grinning from ear to ear. When she spoke around the mouthfull of candy his grin almost split his face as he chuckled and attempted to fib a little.

"It was no matter," he said, waving a hand, "A merchant contact of mine owed me a favor and recently received a shipment of these in." His eyes pulsed slightly. He never liked lying to his sister, even if this was such a small one. However, if she found out what he had gone through to get something so simple just to see her reaction, she might fear him feverish.

Reaching for the bottle, he took two glasses from the side of the table and put one near her hip on the table before him. Popping the cork off was simple with the small incantation his father had taught him, and he poured her glass first. Smiling up at his perched sister on the table, her mouth busy slowly slaying a succulent sweet, Prisom said to her, "Just don't let Hes get her hands on those... if I find out she is addicted to chocolate as well, I shall never be able to keep anyone happy."
Shenawyn reached for the glass of sparkling wine, raising it to her lips to wash down the silky smooth taste of the chocolate. These were from no ordinary merchant, she guessed, and wondered to herself just what Prisom had done to earn such a favor. Reaching for another, she paused, laughing at his comment directed towards her succubus.

“Even if Hes likes chocolates, she’ll have to fight me for them. And since I already got the best of her once, I don’t think she’ll want to try again any time soon! Unless… well, it was kinda fun and Zahndrin <i>did</i> seem to enjoy it…”

Trailing off, her eyes crinkled with mischief as she watched her twin’s face for his reaction.
Prisom had been shaking his head at her as she spoke, and that is when he spotted the small letter. However, at her mention of Zahndrin and his sister's succubus his eyes suddenly snapped up to her face and they narrowed slightly.

"What are you talking about?" He said, the letter he noticed momentarily forgotten.
Grinning, she blew him a kiss with a teasing wink.

"Oh... I was just mentioning how Zahndrin seemed to enjoy watching Heswyn and I rolling around on the arena floor in the Undercity... that's all."

Shifting her weight on the table, Shenawyn picked up the chocolate she had set aside earlier and pushed it against her brother's lips, trying to get him to eat it.

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