Tales of the Ice Harpy from Glacia

Karla was back in her room, reading the manual she'd picked up at Turtle's, along with her new laptop. She was in a great mood: she was Lady MacFinlay in the play, she'd had fun at rehearsal, and she'd gotten a new computer and cellphone without making too much of a fool of herself. On top of all that, she was able to do Craft again.

Life was good.

Knock knock

Karla got off the bed, wondering who was at the door. Dinah? Leda? Emma? Someone else whose name ended in -a?

The answer turned out to be 'none of the above.' It was a young male in some kind of odd blue outfit. "Karla?" he asked, nudging a parcel with his foot. It was easily as high as his knee. "Do you know anyone in De-hemlan?"

"Dhemlan," she corrected automatically, trying to get a better look at the package. "Dhemlan Kaeleer. Yes, I am Karla. I know the High Lord, he's also the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan."

"This must be for you then," he said, handing over a clipboard. "Please sign."

Karla signed muttered her thanks and floated the parcel to her bed to examine it. First and foremost, she probed it with Craft, looking for anything dangerous or even out of the ordinary. She couldn't sense anything, but she was still wary. Pulling off the brown paper, she found her parcel consisted of a large wooden chest, one nearly as long as she was tall. There was a Sapphire-strength shield in place around the entire thing. Interesting. That told her that the box was definitely meant for her, and that it was sent by someone strong enough to wear the Sapphire. Add those things to the fact that it came from someone in Dhemlan and that could mean only one thing.

This was a package sent by the High Lord of Hell.

Karla could be forgiven the little frisson of fear that went down her spine. The High Lord was the strongest male to ever walk the Realms save for the son she hadn't met yet; he was one of the few members of the Blood to ever wear the Black; he'd been alive for at least fifty-thousand years, if one counted being a Guardian as 'alive;' and their last exchange of correspondence included the phrase "blood-sucking corpse." Three guesses as to which one had written that.

Still, she reminded herself, he was also her best friend's guardian and he had helped Morton spirit her away to Fandom. Surely that meant that he had no reason to wish her harm. Ignoring the little voice that was trying to remind her of all of the times that members of her own family had threatened to strangle, throttle, or wallop her, she reached for the ( letter that was attached to the lid of the trunk. )

Karla was laughing when she finished the letter. She folded it, set it aside, and turned to contemplate the trunk. It was richly carved, with polished brass fittings. It didn't look like anything Morton would have, even though it accompanied the letter. Raising her shield, she opened the lid.

The trunk was full of things: books, fabric, even a small compartment filled with more gold coins. Resting on top of everything was another envelope, this one with KARLA written on the front in elegant copperplate script. The handwriting was unfamiliar, but Karla could guess who had sent the trunk and written this ( letter )

Karla folded the letter with a laugh. Guess time hadn't withered his sense of humor. And then she dove into the trunk to see what goodies he'd sent along. Honey-pears maybe?

Door and post open!