A week later, a shifty-looking grog Vibria hasn't met yet (but will by the time Spring rolls 'round...) comes by with a letter and a box. He doesn't say anything, just scowls at her furiously and shoves the box and letter at her. He mutters something which Vibria doesn't understand, but she's pretty sure it was something foul... unless that's just how German sounds.
My dear sodalis,
Please forgive my hasty departure when last we spoke. It has been some time since last a woman laid hands on me, and it elicited memories for which I was not prepared. Please accept this small sample of my work as apology. The enamel is prone to chip, though easily enough repaired-- the price we pay for cosmetic enhancement of functional objects.
~V~
Within the box is a very unorthodox looking helm.
