Contents of a letter addressed to Antonin Aldori, office of the Lord Mayor, Restov
'Dear Angus,
I've convinced Antonin...
By the way, did any of you Swordlords ever consider that changing your names to 'Aldori' when you were inducted into the order makes it all but a that you be referred to in the familiar?
As I said, I've convinced Antonin to deliver any letters I send with a report to you.
That said, I'm still alive. Granted, that much is obvious, elsewise how would I be sending you this missive?..
The worst I can say about these people is that they really have no idea what they are facing here...
Of course, this is the River Kingdoms, where ignorance will kill you faster than a Daggermark Blade, but at least none of them seem willful or malicious about it.
Master Leveton reminds me of one of those Galtan Patriarchs we used to aid getting his family out from under the Red Revolution, certain that now everything would fall into place & life would return to 'normal'... Exactly what is normal when all you have known your entire life is paranoia, distrust & fear?..
Nevermind the fact that he had simply exchanged one set of dangers for them, dangers he was at least experienced with, for another. Oh well, there are reasons they seldom stay in Liberthane. Gralton's doors are always open they say. Never been there myself.
Can't say that I blame his wife for not being as thrilled to be here; though, to be true, she seems to be growing to it.
Their nephew seems a game enough lad...
Listen to me, if Hadin is younger than I am, it's only by months...
But he hasn't seen battle yet, hasn't seen slaughter. I can tell that much just looking into his eyes. None of them have.
Oh, they're able...
With the exception of the Lady, every man-jack of them knows how to handle a blade well enough. But none of them have stood a line, piss running down their breecks, praying that no one's mettle breaks & the batard's coming in don't make it through to do some real damage. Eh, we were all young once, weren't we?
I mentioned a Lady. As it happens, there are at least three of name in this endeavor. Granted, the Orlovsky knight has little but his spurs to him & I cannot, for the life of me, understand why House Lebeda would allow such an eligible daughter to go wandering unescorted when she could be wed far better to their advantage...
Obviously, she is hiding at least as much as I am. I suspect we will see a notice of some sort in time.
Finally, the expected youngest son. Theod Garess holds himself well. Fairly obvious he has little waiting for him back in Brevoy.
Then there are those who I wonder what they are doing here in the first place. I'm not complaining mind you, simply wondering. Well, granted, why one of the 'half-men' would want to make a name for himself here where the freedoms hold sway is obvious...
Now that I think on it, I wonder what they call themselves? 'Half-men' really sounds a bit insulting if you put some thought to't. I'll ask him next I get the chance, if I get the chance...
I'll tell on that later.
There are four others whose blood runs not-man, or at least 'not-all-man'. Two of the Elf-folk. One's a forester, an able archer from the looks of things. The other...
Keeps to himself so far. Looks as though he might be a Wizard though. There is also a priest of Dreams, his blood looks to hold both man & Elf. Finally, a less-favored soul seems to have a bit of the Hold's in him, we haven't spoke much, he keeps to himself. He hasn't opened his mouth to put his foot in yet, which puts him wiser than at least half of us here, including myself...
Wait! I had forgotten Sir Orlovsky. He acts so like one of the blood I forget that's not all that flows through his veins.
A foreign giant, not really, but taller than me certainly. He's not Ulfen, not Iobarian, not from anywhere I recognize. Perhaps he's Garundi?..
There is a songbird, of course. Wherever there are 'grand endeavors', you'll find those to sing of them.
Mother told me that once...
When you get past the preening, he seems capable enough. He carried his weight yesterday, well enough.
Speaking of yesterday. Those reports you mentioned when you told me about Mother's scheme look to possibly have been understatements. Something's brewing here. Looks like someone 'homespun' might be having the same ideas your friends have been entertaining.
Calls himself the 'Stag Lord' & he's been able to mount a force large enough he feels called upon to field 'tribute' parties a dozen strong. That's never good hereabouts. Honestly, I wasn't certain I'd have the chance to send you this letter, for all that Lord Parsal's mentorship stood me in good stead.
None of us died. Honestly, none of us took wounds serious enough to trouble the priest more than a chant or two, total. Much of that I lay at fortune however. The Bandits had the foul of it to put themselves inadvertently between those of us who had already made ourselves known to Oleg & his, and those who arrived yesterday. I don't expect to see that manner of fortune again in my lifetime.
Unfortunately, matters went from desperately against us, to desperately against them so quickly we were only able to capture one for questioning...
and no one here knows how to interrogate a prisoner.
Fortunately,
and I wonder how long that will last...,
This force left their camp comparatively undefended. Only a handful remain, though it's only a forward camp. Half of us intend to move against them on the morrow. Hopefully, they will have the sense not to kill the leader this time.
Give my regards to Mother, though I know we shall not see each other again, she is long in my thoughts.