Several points of order

(from the minutes of the seated Convocation, Open Session XVII of the Year of the Last King: Lord Greyspell's response to Magistrix Enoara's speech on the progress of the Ashen Verdict)

It is clear, my lords, that the attempts thus far - essayed by the most valiant or at any rate most highly-paid mercenary heroes along both Horde and Alliance lines - are less outright thrusts at the Lich King's power, and more in the nature of a stramazone in the first measures of a duel.  Clearly in those of us privileged to have had a classical nobleman's upbringing, this image strikes an immediate chord; I beg your indulgence, my lords, as I attempt to dispel the vacant expression upon the unfortunate features of the heavy-browed personal secretary to Her Ladyship of House Dawnherald, who through no fault of his own save his parentage had clearly not shared this formative experience. 

The stramazone, o moon-faced assassin of rhetoric, is a fencing measure designed to hurt and infuriate, rather than to disarm or kill; rather, it is a deliberate ploy meant to coax forth reaction from the other, to force him into mistakes of temper or passion. 

(At this point Lord Greyspell was asked to clarify something he had said several minutes prior and his recitation of the minutes as well as mimicry of the magister requesting clarification seems to have provoked a minor riot on the floor, after which the curule magisters presiding called a recess.)

* * *

Today Mirain gave me an ultimatum, the seventeenth such in his asinine aspirations of ascension.  Fortunately he is easily distracted by the odd observation that my father's wine cellar survived the razing of Silvermoon, as well as the voiced wondering whether Mardainet, for example, might be inveigled into drinking so much that her ectoplasm is fooled into thinking itself inebriated.

Unfortunately he is going to make the same speech tomorrow, when he remembers that I exist, and this is going to prove tiresome when apparently he is not the only complete ethical and moral wasteland glancing sidelong at the empty throne and the uninspiring man standing in front of it.

Most vexing.  At times one sympathizes with the kinslayers.

Note: check the plantings and the placement of the mirrors.

* * *

To: Larkspur Plagueheart

(in excruciatingly tiny law-hand, deliberately difficult to read even for those trained in it; each word is further complicated by cross-hatched borders with heraldic adder's tongue in each rhombus)

Interesting. Let us see what other lengths to which you will go to know my opinion of you.

~ Greyspell

To: Tryice Dawnherald

And what exactly do you think you are playing at, young man?

~ Greyspell

To: Embersong

You mad old bat, have you any idea how many of the idle have taken to pelting me with rose petals in the past three days? One can only suppose that, their eyes distracted and blinded by your peasant-red hair, they then went temporarily insane and sought to placate fate by following your faineant floral fribbling and scooped up the nearest handful of rose leavings without regard to the actual meaning of their actions. Hence I have acquired a goodly following of clients whom one suspects of having little or no idea of their obligations in political endeavours as per my stated wishes. Gods be good, you may have caused in one stroke the extinction of Talandra's Rose and the population majority of House Greyspell in regards to those referendi not immediately vetoed by Rommath Sunfury.  Such of course was not your intention, obviously; nevertheless may you become intimately aware of a clyster made in equal parts of goblin rocket fuel and firebloom petals soaked in a tincture of cardamom and black pepper, and you may assume that I will accept 'eye socket' in the field of 'bodily cavity'.

~ Greyspell