[hr][center] [color=deepskyblue]Iota[/color][/center][hr]Amidst the intoxicating ambiance of a dimly lit tavern, where the heady fragrance of aged wines mingled with the murmured secrets of its patrons, there arose an encounter most unassuming. From the depths of delicate realms, where Nietzschean spirits joust with moonlit tides, emerged a cloaked Genasi. Her concealed being, a sublime symphony of aquatic elegance, seemed to flow with the very essence of the oceans, embodying their vast mysteries and whispered tales. Every glance she cast was a cascade of enigmatic waves, and every gesture, a ballet of liquid grace. However, in this very establishment, destiny played its most capricious card. For there sat a physician, a mender of wounds, who, in life's grand tapestry, harbored a deep-seated phobia of melodies and fables. This guardian of health, amidst the clinking of glasses and soft conversations, found solace in silence, fearing the very harmonies that Valerith detested. And as kismet would have it, in this kaleidoscope of emotions and stories, their worlds, both vivid and contrasting, were foretold to intersect.

As muses intertwined, amidst the shimmering veil of reality, born from the fervent embrace of elemental water and the lewd winds of karma, the progeny of a Marid immemorial danced nearer to the doctor's soliloquized sighs, with the ephemeral whispers of the abyss, her essence echoing the mysteries of the deep blue. Her every step was a testament to sublimated glacial beauty, a fluid tango manifesting as a serenade of billows and ripples. 

[b]"What am I going to do...?! Talking to them didn't work. Hell, I even got threatened for being arrested for telling a tall tale, but I know it's the truth. And I got caught taking matters into my own hands..."[/b]

Yet, in a poignant twist of cosmic irony, her path serendipitously converged suddenly with that of the clinician, as her gait harbored an inexplicable ataxia, gravity harshly crashing the corpus of the sorcerer into that humble sentinel of fragility and wellness, who obviously sought respite from the day's ordeals, perhaps yearning for a potion to soothe her weary soul. In the vast theater of existence, in that awkward waltz of fate, their paths collided, weaving together the ethereal magic of insincerity and the grounded wisdom of science in a momentary jaunt of Brownian chance. 

[color=deepskyblue]"Mia culpa,"[/color] as wet palms and clumsy fingers apologetically returned any lost pages to her possession. [color=deepskyblue]"Please."[/color] An undulating smile began to fibrillate. [color=deepskyblue]"Allow me to buy you a drink for your trouble."[/color]

[hr][i]Mechanics: [color=deepskyblue]Iota intentionally bumps into the quest giver, as she overhears her confession, desiring to take meaningful glances at the fretful paperwork. 

[Url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/25964] Performance - Disruption of the Doctor - 9 [/url]
[url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/25963] Perception of Papers - 21 [/url]

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