Innverse Stats | Interlude – Arcsinger’s Memories

Name	Text
Elia Arcsinger	When she woke up, Elia Arcsinger stared at the ceiling and wondered if she was dreaming. Each day, she pinched herself hard on the cheek. Hard enough to leave a mark.
Rosencrantz	Every morning, Rosencrantz stared at the red mark on Elia Arcsinger’s cheek as he handed her a too-spicy breakfast, and a Goblin [Spice Chef] would poke his head out of the kitchen with a bunch of Goblins. They would watch as Elia slurped down spicy red spaghetti noodles or munch on seasoned fries.
Elia Arcsinger	Every morning, Rosencrantz stared at the red mark on Elia Arcsinger’s cheek as he handed her a too-spicy breakfast, and a Goblin [Spice Chef] would poke his head out of the kitchen with a bunch of Goblins. They would watch as Elia slurped down spicy red spaghetti noodles or munch on seasoned fries.
[Spice Chef]	Every morning, Rosencrantz stared at the red mark on Elia Arcsinger’s cheek as he handed her a too-spicy breakfast, and a Goblin [Spice Chef] would poke his head out of the kitchen with a bunch of Goblins. They would watch as Elia slurped down spicy red spaghetti noodles or munch on seasoned fries.
Elia Arcsinger	Every morning, Rosencrantz stared at the red mark on Elia Arcsinger’s cheek as he handed her a too-spicy breakfast, and a Goblin [Spice Chef] would poke his head out of the kitchen with a bunch of Goblins. They would watch as Elia slurped down spicy red spaghetti noodles or munch on seasoned fries.
Gaiil-Drome	She just liked spices. True, in her homeland of Gaiil-Drome, half-Elves weren’t as big on spices—they liked subtler foods. When Elia had become famous and gone on her worldwide tour, she’d been introduced to the joys of capsaicin. She’d had a hard time going back.
Elia Arcsinger	She just liked spices. True, in her homeland of Gaiil-Drome, half-Elves weren’t as big on spices—they liked subtler foods. When Elia had become famous and gone on her worldwide tour, she’d been introduced to the joys of capsaicin. She’d had a hard time going back.
Calescent	But she really just liked spices. To the horror of the Goblin called Calescent, she ate any dish he put in front of her without fail. She knew he was trying to out-spice her…he was one of two Goblins whose name she knew. Okay, three—she knew Sticks, Calescent, because his name was ironic, and ‘Numbtongue’, only because he was mentioned in absentia all the time.
Sticks	But she really just liked spices. To the horror of the Goblin called Calescent, she ate any dish he put in front of her without fail. She knew he was trying to out-spice her…he was one of two Goblins whose name she knew. Okay, three—she knew Sticks, Calescent, because his name was ironic, and ‘Numbtongue’, only because he was mentioned in absentia all the time.
Calescent	But she really just liked spices. To the horror of the Goblin called Calescent, she ate any dish he put in front of her without fail. She knew he was trying to out-spice her…he was one of two Goblins whose name she knew. Okay, three—she knew Sticks, Calescent, because his name was ironic, and ‘Numbtongue’, only because he was mentioned in absentia all the time.
Numbtongue	But she really just liked spices. To the horror of the Goblin called Calescent, she ate any dish he put in front of her without fail. She knew he was trying to out-spice her…he was one of two Goblins whose name she knew. Okay, three—she knew Sticks, Calescent, because his name was ironic, and ‘Numbtongue’, only because he was mentioned in absentia all the time.
Lyonette du Marquin	She didn’t want to know the other Goblins. She had huge reservations about this job; she was literally only doing it for the money and because Lyonette claimed her daughters were in danger. Mostly the money.
Elia Arcsinger	Elia’s strange misadventures and quiet days blended together in the background of her existence at The Wandering Inn. In her diary, which she kept like any good, responsible adventurer, she had written boring entries that a few Goblins and an occasional Mrsha or Nanette would sneak into her room to read.
The Wandering Inn	Elia’s strange misadventures and quiet days blended together in the background of her existence at The Wandering Inn. In her diary, which she kept like any good, responsible adventurer, she had written boring entries that a few Goblins and an occasional Mrsha or Nanette would sneak into her room to read.
Mrsha	Elia’s strange misadventures and quiet days blended together in the background of her existence at The Wandering Inn. In her diary, which she kept like any good, responsible adventurer, she had written boring entries that a few Goblins and an occasional Mrsha or Nanette would sneak into her room to read.
Nanette Weishart	Elia’s strange misadventures and quiet days blended together in the background of her existence at The Wandering Inn. In her diary, which she kept like any good, responsible adventurer, she had written boring entries that a few Goblins and an occasional Mrsha or Nanette would sneak into her room to read.
Elia Arcsinger	Elia wrote notes about her expenditures, letters to her daughter—which never got replies—correspondence of note, and how her day had been.
Bird	Laudas – Shepherd’s pie tonight. Spent four coppers betting Bird could not hit a Creona Flashbird. She could.
Lyonette du Marquin	Nendas – I wish the outhouses had plumbing. Lyonette says maybe soon? Hamburgers. I liked them.
Vaulont	Tirenv – Vaulont scared me again. Not on purpose? Time #32.
Colfa val Lischelle-Drakle	Lundas – Colfa and Lyonette sing. Pretty good? Spaghetti. Okay.
Lyonette du Marquin	Lundas – Colfa and Lyonette sing. Pretty good? Spaghetti. Okay.
Mrsha	Gnorna – Mrsha stole a fry. Incident #55. Rice dish. Not sure what it was.
Elia Arcsinger	Elia didn’t bother with the date and broke her months into four weeks, in which she wrote each day out, usually in a somewhat-messy scrawl. Caelhic was the first month of the year; you could read her diary and see years upon years in the same notation.
Elia Arcsinger	What kept the Gnoll girl and others sneaking into Elia’s room was that every now and then, the monotonous writing would be broken up. Elia would stop writing notes and it would read like:

Elia Arcsinger

When she woke up, Elia Arcsinger stared at the ceiling and wondered if she was dreaming. Each day, she pinched herself hard on the cheek. Hard enough to leave a mark.

Rosencrantz

Every morning, Rosencrantz stared at the red mark on Elia Arcsinger’s cheek as he handed her a too-spicy breakfast, and a Goblin [Spice Chef] would poke his head out of the kitchen with a bunch of Goblins. They would watch as Elia slurped down spicy red spaghetti noodles or munch on seasoned fries.

Elia Arcsinger

Every morning, Rosencrantz stared at the red mark on Elia Arcsinger’s cheek as he handed her a too-spicy breakfast, and a Goblin [Spice Chef] would poke his head out of the kitchen with a bunch of Goblins. They would watch as Elia slurped down spicy red spaghetti noodles or munch on seasoned fries.

[Spice Chef]

Every morning, Rosencrantz stared at the red mark on Elia Arcsinger’s cheek as he handed her a too-spicy breakfast, and a Goblin [Spice Chef] would poke his head out of the kitchen with a bunch of Goblins. They would watch as Elia slurped down spicy red spaghetti noodles or munch on seasoned fries.

Elia Arcsinger

Every morning, Rosencrantz stared at the red mark on Elia Arcsinger’s cheek as he handed her a too-spicy breakfast, and a Goblin [Spice Chef] would poke his head out of the kitchen with a bunch of Goblins. They would watch as Elia slurped down spicy red spaghetti noodles or munch on seasoned fries.

Gaiil-Drome

She just liked spices. True, in her homeland of Gaiil-Drome, half-Elves weren’t as big on spices—they liked subtler foods. When Elia had become famous and gone on her worldwide tour, she’d been introduced to the joys of capsaicin. She’d had a hard time going back.

Elia Arcsinger

She just liked spices. True, in her homeland of Gaiil-Drome, half-Elves weren’t as big on spices—they liked subtler foods. When Elia had become famous and gone on her worldwide tour, she’d been introduced to the joys of capsaicin. She’d had a hard time going back.

Calescent

But she really just liked spices. To the horror of the Goblin called Calescent, she ate any dish he put in front of her without fail. She knew he was trying to out-spice her…he was one of two Goblins whose name she knew. Okay, three—she knew Sticks, Calescent, because his name was ironic, and ‘Numbtongue’, only because he was mentioned in absentia all the time.

Sticks

But she really just liked spices. To the horror of the Goblin called Calescent, she ate any dish he put in front of her without fail. She knew he was trying to out-spice her…he was one of two Goblins whose name she knew. Okay, three—she knew Sticks, Calescent, because his name was ironic, and ‘Numbtongue’, only because he was mentioned in absentia all the time.

Calescent

But she really just liked spices. To the horror of the Goblin called Calescent, she ate any dish he put in front of her without fail. She knew he was trying to out-spice her…he was one of two Goblins whose name she knew. Okay, three—she knew Sticks, Calescent, because his name was ironic, and ‘Numbtongue’, only because he was mentioned in absentia all the time.

Numbtongue

But she really just liked spices. To the horror of the Goblin called Calescent, she ate any dish he put in front of her without fail. She knew he was trying to out-spice her…he was one of two Goblins whose name she knew. Okay, three—she knew Sticks, Calescent, because his name was ironic, and ‘Numbtongue’, only because he was mentioned in absentia all the time.

Lyonette du Marquin

She didn’t want to know the other Goblins. She had huge reservations about this job; she was literally only doing it for the money and because Lyonette claimed her daughters were in danger. Mostly the money.

Elia Arcsinger

Elia’s strange misadventures and quiet days blended together in the background of her existence at The Wandering Inn. In her diary, which she kept like any good, responsible adventurer, she had written boring entries that a few Goblins and an occasional Mrsha or Nanette would sneak into her room to read.

The Wandering Inn

Elia’s strange misadventures and quiet days blended together in the background of her existence at The Wandering Inn. In her diary, which she kept like any good, responsible adventurer, she had written boring entries that a few Goblins and an occasional Mrsha or Nanette would sneak into her room to read.

Mrsha

Elia’s strange misadventures and quiet days blended together in the background of her existence at The Wandering Inn. In her diary, which she kept like any good, responsible adventurer, she had written boring entries that a few Goblins and an occasional Mrsha or Nanette would sneak into her room to read.

Nanette Weishart

Elia’s strange misadventures and quiet days blended together in the background of her existence at The Wandering Inn. In her diary, which she kept like any good, responsible adventurer, she had written boring entries that a few Goblins and an occasional Mrsha or Nanette would sneak into her room to read.

Elia Arcsinger

Elia wrote notes about her expenditures, letters to her daughter—which never got replies—correspondence of note, and how her day had been.

Bird

Laudas – Shepherd’s pie tonight. Spent four coppers betting Bird could not hit a Creona Flashbird. She could.

Lyonette du Marquin

Nendas – I wish the outhouses had plumbing. Lyonette says maybe soon? Hamburgers. I liked them.

Vaulont

Tirenv – Vaulont scared me again. Not on purpose? Time #32.

Colfa val Lischelle-Drakle

Lundas – Colfa and Lyonette sing. Pretty good? Spaghetti. Okay.

Lyonette du Marquin

Lundas – Colfa and Lyonette sing. Pretty good? Spaghetti. Okay.

Mrsha

Gnorna – Mrsha stole a fry. Incident #55. Rice dish. Not sure what it was.

Elia Arcsinger

Elia didn’t bother with the date and broke her months into four weeks, in which she wrote each day out, usually in a somewhat-messy scrawl. Caelhic was the first month of the year; you could read her diary and see years upon years in the same notation.

Elia Arcsinger

What kept the Gnoll girl and others sneaking into Elia’s room was that every now and then, the monotonous writing would be broken up. Elia would stop writing notes and it would read like:

Interlude – Arcsinger’s Memories

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