((This is really by "Wendy", except for the letter from Dree. - Adri))
((Jendria's actions prior to this part of the story are described in this post: A Vacation Home))
The Forsaken's weary legs nearly gave way beneath her as she read the letter once again.
I have an item in my possession that a mutual acquaintance wanted delivered to you. I dare not entrust the sender's name to this post, which fact alone may tell you who commissioned my service as a courier. Please let me know when and were we can meet so that I can discharge this duty.
The priestess stared up into the green eyes of the Sin'Dorei who had delivered the letter into her hands. His long black hair was neatly gathered at the base of his neck and he could not seem to hide, or perhaps was not trying, an expression of distaste as he looked around the central area of the Undercity. "Can you delivery a reply?" she asked, her voice trembling.
The courier's eyebrow raised and an amused smirk crossed his face. "I am not currently seeking employment," he said in a cold tone.
"Please!" Naddie yelped, somewhat louder than she had intended. A few passersby looked to her curiously. "Please," she repeated, lowering her voice this time. She hastily withdrew a coin purse from the pocket of her robes - all the profits from the herbs she had sold at auction - and thrust them into the courier's hands. The elf's lip curled in disgust as the Forsaken's decaying fingertips grazed against his. Naddie recognized the look on his face and quickly drew back, leaving the purse in his hands.
"If you were able to find me, I know that you can find her," she said, averting her eyes from the elf's loathing stare.
"You flatter yourself if you think it was so difficult, Forsaken," the courier replied nastily. He tossed the coin purse from one hand to the other, testing its weight. "With your kind, I need only follow the stench."
She winced at the comment, and she grabbed her cloak to draw it completely around her. "Will you carry the reply or not?" she asked again.
The elf chuckled at her discomfort before turning his attention to the purse once more. "Write your response," he said with a shrug.
Nadezhda attepmted in vain to steady her shaking hands as she penned a quick reply. Her untrained script sprawled across the page, blots of ink dotting the ends of her words:
I will leave for Silvermoon immediately. You will be able to find me at the Wayfarer's Rest Inn. Please travel safely.