Inric skims the page in front of him until the details pop out. The West Rathe Accord... the Anvirin third fyel... and they were posted to Resset Vale. He breathes out in relief. "Nowhere near here." The book is a good enough place to start; he takes it back out to the main records room, where the chairs are more comfortable, then stops. Standing at one of the tables is a young man. A young Eldarin man, with a familiar, scowling face. "Yllianvarar," Inric says, heart sinking. "Uncle."