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Letter 2

[[Good Afternoon,

I hope wherever you are your days were enjoyable. I went to forum again and this time I was able to fully become a physiker, Dr. Tobias shook my hand and called me Dr. Heimir when I told him I had completed my training. The thing is…why did the excitement felt like a fleeting feeling? If I would tell you what happened, I feel like you would be disappointed. But I weighted my options, I wanted to be useful and help people…just..remember that if you ever hear anything…please just be proud of me. I feel numb and I don’t think that’s a good thing but I can’t be sure since I’ve never felt this feeling before. I feel like something of mine has died. Wish you were here to help me figure this out.

I’ll continue to help others. I DO feel very helpful and that’s the part that carries me forward. I think there will be a time when I won’t be as useful, but for now I am and so I will live in the present.

I really wish you were here.

I apologize this letter is less enthusiastic that you’re use to, but I can’t seem to be able to write any other way today.

Love,
Heimir]]

The red headed boy sighed, folding the letter and holding it over the flame of the candle lighting the room. It caught on fire instantly, he held it with his two fingers until the burning letter was too hot to handle. It finished burning on table where it created ash.

slowly he used his hands to gather the ash and put it in the palm of his hand before walking to his bed.
He pulled the chest under it slowly and softly sprinkled the ash over the mountain of sealed letters inside.

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Captain Sinclair official report #2

My Lady, Adeline Challant.
The troops who bravely followed me into this cold north quickly set up in the city and reinforced it. The Rimelanders didn’t even dare attack the city under the protection of the lord marshal’s troops combined with my own.
I regret to inform you of the state of the war here. I’m sure you are aware that Njordr is a brutal land, and the people no less so. The Cold Hands clan that we fought throughout Forum engaged in less than savory tactics all weekend, opting to backstab and run at every turn. Friday night I was forced to engage in their form of fighting. In the confusion I struck an ally. In my despair I fell into sin and found Friar Ignatius to help me atone.
Later in the Forum I was forced to make the decision between attacking an enemy who was running from me and letting them harm someone else. I did my best to only fight my opponents face to face, but the dishonor of my enemies became my own. It is with great shame that I write these words to you now. I was shaken from how quickly I felt the savagery of these lands steep into myself, and I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to overcome the challenge that Njordr represents. But I understand the price of war and I am willing to pay it, for your honor. I remain in control of myself and in pursuit of righteous victory.

With respect,
Captain Sinclair

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Excuses

Lord Svanhildr Saenger.
I regret that I am unable to reach Runeheim by the a̶f̶f̶o̶r̶m̶e̶ date that you gave me to reach the city. I̶n̶ ̶r̶e̶c̶e̶m̶ As an apology, I have included a casting that may help you this season. You may not give c̶r̶e̶d̶e̶ credit to these castings, but the runes are as old as Njordr and I hope that, by giving you these words, you might forgive my vagabondary.

ᛗᛝᛋ•ᛇᚲ•ᚷᚦᛚ
You have been relying on yourself as you enter this new stretch of your life and it has been rewarding for you in the past. But as you enter into this new arena, find the source of your power and focus on learning where to spend your energy and what can be left behind. There will be a blockage in your path, but that delay may be rewarding. Have cautions, but press forward. You may have to face the fire of things that are hard this season. Seek out allies and remove the thorns already in your feet. Find your flow, and like the Kaltlina, your ambitions will take you out to sea.

I ask that you forgive my skiving. I travel as fast as the weather allows on difficult roads, but I will try to be there by next season. I pass this note up the river in hopes that it reach you.
Eiðr Fylgjason

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Captain Sinclair official report #1

My Lady, Adeline Challant.
I write to you to report my progress into Njordir with my companions. The journey has been filled with bitter cold and harsh views. The land here is much like the people who live here; somehow both boring and dangerous.
Both myself and the soldiers who follow me into this new land are eager to prove ourselves for your honor, and the excitement builds as we near the city of Runeheim. I will give the Grafin Vindicta Dragomir your regards as soon as we arrive. Forum is in just a few short weeks and your subjects will be ready to defend the empire sooner than that. I will send another report after the forum, once I’ve had time to integrate with the community of Runeheim and see truly what I am dealing with. Until then, my liege.

With respect,
Captain Sinclair

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Letter from Dana Isabella Scordato to Counte Scordato

Dead Brother,

I pray event back home are going well for matters in Stragosa have taken a turn for the worse. I apologize for the delay from my last letter but much has happened that has prevented me from writing.

Four months ago, I lost two hundred marines saving our distant cousin, Sir Reinhardt Sonnenhiem, from certain death. Acting in his roll as Lord Marshall of Stragosa, he was leading his men against the heretics. Myself and my own force provided support on both of his flanks. We had just routed a force of dark riders when Reinhardt’s own men turned on us, falling to heresy. I personally led a charge to rescue him from a duel with his own traitor turned captain. We were successful in saving him however we lost the aforementioned 200 marines to do so.

Afterwards, I took to investigate one of the main sites we have found in the valley, and came to an ancient elven site. It had twelve statues, with two oddly enough human. I must tell you I felt I was being watched the entire time though. I heard rumors that the same elf that killed father was also seen in Stragosa shortly after my scouting expedition. I am not sure if the two events are tied or not.

Once I had cleaned up from the trip, I set out to coordinate the defense of the Princepessa’s city of Portofino and the House Drake city of Silbran. While I was with Captain Maria di Segrati in Silbran, we were attacked by forces of Kuarlites. The small team of Spotters I was with were vastly outnumbered by the horde and one after one fell in combat. I only survived due to being knocked unconscious and my warhorse somehow escaping. I have since returned to Portofino.

I write you this letter on the eve of my trip to Stragosa to see if this war is salvageable. I am sorry brother but I must also apologize. For I intend to seek out the elf. Both honor and duty require me to do so. I must also get answers to the elven site I visited for one of the statues confused me greatly. I know this puts my marriage at risk should I perish but it must be done. I will however make sure contingencies are in place to ensure our interests are protected should anything happen.

I close with this. If the valley is held, the land surrounding the ancient dwarves fortress is legally our now. My guess was right on the land being valuable since dwarves once held it. For the very first mine Sergio, you remember our old tutor and papi’s friend, opened was a gem mine. The fortress is in good condition and I have multiple forces of Spotters moving to man the battlements when the mountains open in spring. As they do not require large amount of rations, once we erect additional defenses, it will be well secured outside of a large army assault.

That is all for now. I hope to write to you in a few days hence, with my success in Stragosa but if not, know I love you brother.

Harvesting the past, we flourish.

Love,
Isabella

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The Message

Gideon could smell the smoke rising. The sounds of battle and yelling of combatants rode the wind. He stared out the window, watching the fires blaze and the shadows of figures rushing each other, full of fury and intent.

He turned back to the letter in front of him. The writing was scribbled and distorted, a hand writing as fast and recklessly as it could, desperate to get it’s message out.

“To Lord Percival:

Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming…”

It extended to the bottom of the page, that same phrase that pulsed behind the Lurihim’s eyes and rang in his ears. There was another on the desk, addressed to Sir Sanguine. And another, for Seneschal Kirsa. And a third, for Father Ansel. And a final one, for Bishop Adeodatus. All contained that same phrase, repeated over and over like a mantra. Gideon hoped that if he wrote enough letters, spread His Message widely enough, that perhaps the urgency of it would abate from his mind.

Gideon’s personal journal lay on the floor nearby, swept off the desk in his frenzy to compulsively spread the message of the Archangel that pounded in his skull. Half of it was introspection and contemplation on the healing arts and the Miracle until it abruptly became that scrawled feverish message halfway through.

Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming…

~Yes I am, Gideon. And when I arrive, I will take them all. My Hand will claim your friends and allies. And then I will claim the rest of Stragosa while you watch.

All will be Mine. Except you. You will be my Herald. You will be the last.~

Gideon was sweating. He clutched his head, eyes squeezed shut.

“Damn it, Lurian… stay your Hand, you bastard…”

~I will not, Herald. All are Mine in the end. Look out the window for the proof. It has already started. It is already here. Now return to spreading My Message.~

“Yes, Lurian…” The priest muttered. He turned back to the page automatically and began to write again.

Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming. Lurian is coming…

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Letter from Sir Ansel to Dame Gloriana

Dearest Mother,

I am heartened to hear of the fall of the Black Monestary of the Kaurlites. It is a blessed occasion when Humanity bands together to push back the Thorns. Truly, I am relieved. This city was once a stronghold of the Kaurlite, and it is joyous that that history is one further step diminished. I hear a raiding force remains, in route to the Black Tower. I pray that the Throne’s forces will find and overtake them before they inflict much more harm.

The black band known as the Hollow Men cut off the hands of many women and children this last season. Sir Sanguine says they did it to lure the Frateris Sanguine into a trap, goaded on by the hot desire for vengeance. He hid the knowledge from us so that we could focus on our work, and quietly arranged for the miracles of Lurian to be called upon to restore our loved ones to wholeness. I think his leadership here was wise, though I do wish he would have consulted with us more. I do believe we could have kept our hearts level, and possibly captured some of these blackguards. Markus has faced this trial in a manner that makes me proud.

The city rulership has asked me to serve as Eparch, and I have accepted. I hope that I can provide righteous guidance to those in power, and help everyone here find more meaningful lives.
One question that comes up frequently is the role of sorcery in our society. In order to understand this place better I have studied the rudiments of Magic, and in so doing have noticed that the names of the rebellious angels who now are the Thorns are reversed and included in the incantation of every guild spell. I am not alone in noticing this, and it has led to questions about whether Magic, or Mankind’s ability to wield it, is part of how the world is wicked? The church teaches us that it is slothful to turn to the supernatural, but is otherwise silent of the deeper implications of magical power. Do magicians open the Judgment the rebellious angels are sealed in to draw power from them? Are ancient false gods and demons being invoked, or revered? Is the presence of the guilds in our society a fundamental compromise of the ideal of the Throne? These are things I feel I need to know to give proper council to the rulers here, and to guide the course of the Frateris Sanguine and others.

I pray you and your men every blessing and fortune in the field. If your time and the campaign permit, I would be grateful for another visit. In particular I feel our prior lesson has settled well, and I am now ready to learn the Langschwert technique if you are able to teach it to me.

Love,

Ansel

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Artistic Ambiguity

Most Esteemed Abbot Euphonus –

Good News! The Fortress Monastery in Stragosa is about to be consecrated. I already burn with ideas. I have an inkling of a notion that to inspire more, I need to move away from this focus on specificity and return to grander, more ambiguous ideas. To inflame the passions of everyone involved in a grand moment of history or a grand theme of art could inspire both those who love goodness as well as those who hate impurity. In any case, I will send you my notes as I compile them. Perhaps you will feel inclined to share your discoveries here with us as well. There is still so much to do!

In Homage to Benalus and with Honor to the Emperor and under the guidance of the memory of Padre Pietro,

Alonzo d’ Melano
Bard Laureate of Silbran

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To El Maestro di Mille Delize

To El Maestro di Mille Delize
I have done as you have asked and learned some fascinating things. Despite having followed them and learned what I could, I learned much less than I expected. I was surprised to find their information gathering skill the same or higher than my own. But despite this, I have still learned much. Their current practice and occupation seems the least of their skills. They are a skilled craftsman and inventor, who’s focus seems lit on the incendiary. Specifically those outside the techniques of Capacionne-born technology. But I also learned that if they are capable beyond natural means of creating this fire, they are unrelated to the guild. Unfortunately I was unable to determine the full truth of their abilities. Additionally, I have been told that their current services are quite addictive, though they had few, if any, customers at this last gathering. Unfortunately I don’t know how much of that is innuendo or if it just emphasizes the skill of their practice. I know they prefer wine to beer, and the current deal they have arranged with the Farmer’s Daughter.
Despite my small harvest, what I did learn has given me much to think about. I don’t know how much you knew about them before, but I hope that this service has been performed adequately.
With Regards,
The Friends of the Orange Baron.

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Humorous Songs of Stragosa

Dearest mother,

as I learned from my youth in our household, you have always been fascinated by the forms of expression that constitute ‘art’ in cities and cultures far away from our own. To give you a better impression of the macabre and frankly crass moods that are evoked in the scummy taverns of Stragosa, I enclose a transcript of a most… unsuitable song performed in the recent past. Despite its allusions, please rest assured that the bards were investigated by the Inquisition and found to be devoid of any heresy. It was meant to be a comedic tinge. I found it disturbing and alarming, and clearly the Prosecutor present at that time felt the same way, for he immediately produced a ball of fire in his palm, stalking towards the bard. Now that, and I cannot emphasize this highly enough, was highly amusing.

Without much further ado, here is a transcript of this humorous song. At the end of the letter, I shall also enclose a more sombre sonnet that I composed myself after the departure of a certain lady. I feared for her death at the time, but even moreso feared for her undead return.

==

(Gothic Paradise)

As I ride through Stragosa where I Master the Coin,
I take a look at Borso’s pouch, and realize that he’s purloined,

The city’s resources and labour and time,
Which to my mind surely is an Imperial crime,

But that’s just typical for a Hestrali like him,
Who despite their fashion, wine and music are just a bit dim.

At 2:30 in the morning I’m diggin’ graves,
Charming maidens, fighting zombies, and dissin’ knaves,

I’ve been charmin’ and fighting so long that,
Even fire mages think that my mind is gone.

I’m a noble of the land, I’m into Benalian faith,
And one day I’ll find and marry my perfect soul mate,

But if I finish farming, reaping and building this iron mine,
Then tonight we’re gonna party like it’s Lion Age 599.

We been spending most our lives
Living in a Gothic paradise,
Farmed canvas more than thrice,
Living in a Gothic paradise,
Burned some heretics, it was nice,
Living in a Gothic paradise.

A local scum boy tried to steal my pouch last week,
I just smiled at him and my knight stabbed him in the cheek,

I ain’t never punched a Njord even if he deserved it,
A Gothic noble striking smelly fur bois? That’s unheard of.

I never wear white, no — I always wear black,
And all the lonely ladies agree that my knight is a snacc

If you do come to Stragosa you’ll likely turn up dead,
Because monsters will find you, even asleep in your bed.

Got here last year but feels like most our lives,
Living in a Gothic Paradise
Turns out corsets are full of knives,
Living in a Gothic Paradise.
Been Tarrantist once or twice,
Living in a Gothic Paradise.

==

(A Sonnet to Spectres)

Last isthmus I gave you my chart
the very next day
you sank to your grave
This year
a ghost ship appears
you turned into something spectral

==

EvV, Lion Age 604