The elf leaned over a worn table in his personal quarters, candle stubs flickering, guttering occasionally as the tallow melted in consistently growing pools. The light was dim, enough to strain most eyes as he hunched there, writing quill in hand as he scrawled out a letter. He wore his usual civilian outfit, dressed as a scholar. Old habits die hard, after all.<br/>It had been a few weeks since he last wrote to his friend back in Riddleport, seeing how things were moving along during the events of the Second Darkness. He'd left the city a few short days after the meteor fell from the sky onto a nearby island after he found he couldn't run the Golden Goblin on his own; the previous proprieter was surprisingly in debt, and it was better to leave before he was found to be a thief. He'd managed to vanish successfully from the port town, always beleiving anonymity would be a saving grace.<br/>A knock startled him from his work, causing him to scratch along the parchment, leaving an unsightly line of ink from the motion as he turned his head to the door, green eyes shining in mild annoyance. Wincing slightly as the portal opened, letting sunlight slant directly into his eyes. His short mop of brown hair wasn't quite long enough to go over his brow, waiting for the comer to say something. Anything. Finally, patience wearing thin, he spoke tersely.<br/>"What?"