My Mentor

It has been close to twenty years since I had last seen my mentor, John Vechna. The rumors were true-- he is undead. I am not certain if this is better or worse than him being gone forever. He doesn't particularly seem to mind it. I'd always heard stories about the undead, how they feel no emotions, that they only remember what things felt like when they were alive. Does he truly care for me as he did when I was his student, or is he merely feigning it for his own amusement? Does Urien do that with me?

He covers himself entirely, and wears a ghastly skull-shaped plate over his face. He won't let me look at him, he won't let me touch him. (He has two right hands!)

The journey north has left me weary. I must rest.


--F.P.

Letter: to Urien

((Left at the Stormwind Cathedral, addressed to Urien Fuoco, wax sealed (with a rune embossing, rather than family crest). It is bewitched to bleed ink and be rendered illegible if not opened by Urien-- it will react to the enchantment on his envelope.))

My husband,

We've been separated again, and it is entirely my fault. With the quarantine for that awful disease being held in Dalaran, I panicked. I fled, for a variety of reasons. I did not want to contract it myself, I did not want to happen upon those either of us would consider enemies.

Nevertheless, I am safe, in a manner of speaking. I have taken it upon myself to keep my head down, and am recovering from grievous wounds. You'll never believe this, but I lost a duel. I am more than thankful that my old friend was there to witness it, as he saved my life. Now more than ever, I am realizing my condition. How I don't take care of myself. How I keep pushing myself when there is quite simply nothing left. I assure you, I am resting as much as I can without going completely stir-crazy.

I would love for nothing more than to be reunited with you once again. We can be away from the city-- away from that silly boat of murderous do-gooders, away from the fractured remains of the coven, away from all of it. I know that I have done terrible things, that I have been distant, that I have been the worst wife.

For that I am sorry. Truly so.

[There are a few started sentences, but they are all scribbled out after the first few words.]

Have you been to the Western Province recently? Parts near Andorhal are green again. It is breathtaking. Perhaps I can see you there in person, soon.


With love,

Faronne

Letter: The Mentor-Lich

((This will have found its way to Vechna through magical means. Maybe undead carrier pigeons, because why not?))

My mentor,

I heard a rumor that you're up and skulking about, though the term 'alive' was used very, very loosely. It has been some time since I have had contacted with you, or anyone from the old days. I miss you, I miss them, I miss all of it.

Recently, my research has taken some interesting turns. You've taught me much about battlemagics. I want to learn more. The rumors also said that you could teach me such.

I await our reunion. It is long overdue.

Signed,

Your brightest student

Letter: J.V.

((Delivered by carrier pigeon. Because they're cool. If they don't exist in WoW, they should.))

V.,

I apologize for leaving with little notice at all. I have managed to overexert myself, and wind up back on strict bed rest. Granted, it did not take much effort at all, but walking about unaccompanied in the open is rarely ever a good idea. As such, here I am. I will not tell you where, as a precaution in case this letter is intercepted.

My health is stable, thankfully. The elixir which you and your contacts have so graciously provided has been tremendously helpful, my little mishap aside. The process is taking somewhat longer than I thought it would, but I am noticing a definite upward trend. I no longer cough blood.

Despite my little 'sabbatical' as you could call it, I am still very interested in what you are up to. I hear rumors and received a letter regarding the Weave. I want to be a part of this. I want to be of help. Though I am far away, magic permeates everything. Elixirs and enchantments can be sent through rifts. I hardly want to sit idle while I wait for these wounds to heal.

Perhaps when I am well enough for visitors, we can speak of this in person.

Regards,

P.