2232 5th Spring
Conan,
You won’t believe it barbarian, but I’m writing from atop a monastery, its literally shrouded in actual mystical mists and I can hear the clacking of the staff kata below me in the training yard. Its almost straight from one of your books, has a few bald headed fighting monks and even an ancient wise greybeard who guides them. They allow booze to a degree, which got me thinking about how much you’d like it here, which got me thinking about how long its been since I wrote to you, which got me writing.
I hope youre well meathead and the axe is still hanging from the wall and not your belt. To be honest, this might not be the place for you – you might find their demeanour is a little lacedaemonian even for a hard nut like you. They call themselves “irlandi” and ive travelled long way since my last letter, and I know it has been a few years, so please forgive an old bitch for her rudeness. Ive had a few adventures along the way – I was “kidnapped” by minotaur raiders last summer and ended up needing to sail a ship back to port all on my own – I had to prop up and animate their corpses with the ropes and pulleys of the ship to make it seem like a functioning crew as I slipped passed the rest of the raid at dusk ( I was basically copying your kobald puppet trick from Natiri ! )
I have a brief foray into the feywild soon after, due to losing a bet with a rather stubborn water nymph who’s suitor just happened to be a mantis knight who thought they would teach me a lesson and impress their lady. They “invited” me along after they could not best me and I provided entertainment with my blade for a whole season! (I enclose an undying oak leaf which I won in a game of dice during their summer plum wine festival). Im looking forward to telling you the story of the sand-drake in person – think bobsledding down a sand dune, but the bobsled wants to eat you and your only weapons are his broken wings.
Oh Conan, not a day goes by I don’t wish you were all still here with me, the gang back together, but I know how naïve that is. I know you had to stop, just like you know I had to leave.
Anyway, I need to go, these irlandi are a bit odd and starting to ask a lot of questions. I don’t really know what they actually do here, but they seem to take it rather seriously, and disappear on “patrols” and “expeditions” but I cant learn much else. It’s a bit of a mixed bunch I have to say, it seems like they come from all over, but they were happy to take me in and share their food with me. Ive got dinner with the high chilera today, he seems to want to ask a lot of questions about our previous campaigning. Probably more political bullshit.
I still havnt found a path forward, but Im told there are a family of trephination loving mystics called “Goran” nearby. I know Fionnlath thinks he can handle this himself, but I cant just wait around for them both to be taken from me. Fionnlath knows whats coming and wouldnt talk about it to me – says he signed up for it with his eyes open. I felt I had to help my boys the only way I know how – go searching for answers, and hopefully solutions. Leaving was the hardest thing I ever did, but it’s the only way I can think to help him. Anyway, look at me, writing sentimental crap like this . There must be something in the water up here.
Ill be back eventually, Give my love them both if you ever cross paths again
Miss you.
R
(P.S if Etricht comes by again, tell him to go fuck himself in his Pious ass.)
2235 65th Winter
Conan,
Apologies its been so long – did you receive my parcel last year with the smokeweed? It was grown entirely under magical light in a wrecked galleon towed by the flotilla, one of their “floating farms”, hope you enjoyed it. Im currently about to leave Tamshaven, ive heard theres a traveller aboard an outbound ship that knows a bit too much about the winding path than is healthy. I cant seem to work out exactly who he is quickly enough ( sailors are surprisingly tight lipped under beatings, I suspect they might not even know themselves), but I think 2 months at sea is ample time to weed him out and learn what the hell a “navigator” really is.
I have been writing to Ernodal but have heard nothing back – do you know if all is well in the village? ( I would rather not mention any specific place names here)
Ill update you soon, I think Im close.
R
P.S. The beer here is complete pisswater, and they havnt had a decent brewer in a generation – there is no hope for this place.
2240 44th Summer – exceptionally calligraphic hand writing
Dearest Conan,
Apologies for leaving a note like this, but you weren’t in when I called and nobody as seen you for a week. Unfortunately, I don’t have enough time to wait for your return on this occasion, but I do sincerely hope your book tour goes well. I have taken the liberty of helping myself to two of your rather dusty tombs (“Of roads best forgotten – Journeys to the Abyss”, and “Phalanx Doctrine”), one of your daggers ( the black handled one ) and a modest portion of your ale ( 2 quarts), all are much appreciated.
Rosalynn has written to me last month that she has found a way to extricate us from a rather complicated and difficult family situation, but alas time is not on my side and I may need to execute contractual duties expected of me before we can be reunited. While I am eternally grateful of your offer of stewardship in my absence, I have left my son at home, hoping to spare him the trauma of difficult travel ( he is a rather special boy , and I don’t wish to remove him from his many close friends – I think the traveling would perhaps upset him some). My expectation is for all to be well, but I may be travelling a great distance and in unsavoury company, and it is an experience a father would spare his son of for as long as possible. I worry that should things take an unexpected turn for the worst, he yet may be following in my footsteps.
Regardless, I look forward to seeing you again soon and attending “the gun show” when youre next exhibiting your talents.
Yours eternally,
Fionnlath