Sanria touched along the hull of her ship with light fingers. The cavern this morning, as always, was sparkling with the light of the millions of crystals embedded within the walls. The din of the waterfall, made almost silent by a magic spell cast long before it was her home, echoed lightly in her ears. The dints and long scratches, even some gashes, caused her fingers to move up and down and she sighed. She might have to take on a few cargo runs to pay someone to hammer out and replace the hull in many places. Her mind wasn't on much else when a walking suit of armor entered the caverns, halting right in the middle.
After everything Sanria had endured in the north, having arrived home not long ago, she immediately went on high alert. She pulled out her whip, ready to attack. "You... get out of here! Get out of my home... OUT!"
The armor lifted a hand in a gesture that reminded Sanria of someone giving their word, no violence would be done here. After a moment of hesitation, Sanria recoiled her whip and locked it back onto her hip. In the palm of the warrior's hand was a scroll, tiny, and tightly rolled. "What a messenger. I'm telling you."
The armor laid the scroll down and backed away as Sanria reached it, opened it, and began to read:
Dearest Sanria,
My apologies I couldn't meet you here myself, however I feel that given circumstances as of late such acts might be inappropriate on my behalf. Though the journey is a long one indeed I wondered if you might see fit to meet me at Nisstyre's Tavern in Westbridge.
With all hopes that I might see you soon.
Yours truly, and truly yours,
Throm
Sanria frowned and looked toward the entrance of the cavern. It seemed whenever she heard, or read, the words, "Throm, circumstances, inappropriate, apologies," her stomach churned and she worried. She let a small sigh and shook her head, and without a word to the armor in her home, walked off toward Westbridge. "I'm not sure I like this."
