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From the desk of the esteemed Archmage Ansirem Runeweaver
I prithee not think ill of my making light of the situation, but we shant be seeing Apprentice Argoly any longer. Archmage Ataeric has been rushing his students through training and sending me thick-skulled nincompoops who can scarcely conjure their own drink! If I'm to expect these buffoons to do the work of skilled magi, then woe that this boy couldn't handle a simple errand.
The grasses in Alterac are hearty and impart a strong, earthy flavor to hot tea. I sent the boy foraging around the outskirts of the floating city to find fresh grass. It slipped my mind that he never came back, as I was busied with correcting yet another mumbling apprentice who'd set fire to a 200-year-old tapestry.
It struck me that Argoly had grinned like a fool when I presented him the task, but I shooed him away to his work. I finally had my answer this morning when I sent my attendant down to the surface to retrieve an important memo I'd lost to the breeze while gazing over the frozen wastes below us. She returned hurriedly to inform me that Argoly's remains were found in a broken slump on the tundra.
I'd no doubt of the boy's hand in his own demise when I found a folded pouch of Felweed tucked into his robes. It would seem that Argoly took my invitation to "go get some grass" quite literally, and busied himself with chewing it before setting to work on my task. The rest, I trust, you can gather on your own.