12 Reaping 574 CY

Dear Mum and Da,

I am well.  I hope that I will actually beat this letter home, as I am traveling in the Hollow Highlands near Pawford right now.  Speaking of Pawford, DA, there is plague in that town right now.  Please spread the word to the other villages that the town is under quarantine and needs must avoid the place for now.

I hope Paprika has been sharing the stories of my travels with you.  You should not fret; I have embellished some of the details within them to make them sound more heroic than they actually are.  Moreover, my companions are fellows of stout heart and terrific courage and caution.  I do not think we have encountered a beast or man that caused us trouble.  I hope I get the chance to introduce them to you all soon.

Have Nora and Shane had their first baby yet?  When I was back in Wealsun, Nora looked ready to give birth any day.  She also had a secret smile on her lips whenever she touched her belly, so I am wagering on a little girl…women always know these things!

Please let Forbit Gongin know that the concertina he fashioned for me is still perfectly in tune, despite my fumblings with it.  Speaking of music, I want to let Avery know that the village of Seblingham is having a large festival for BrewFest and among the various contests will likely be several musical ones.  Mum, I know you are trying very hard to get Avery settled but music is in his blood, and perhaps a little travel would settle his restless nature a trifle.  I am afraid though, Mum, that you will have to resign yourself to the fact that two of your sons wander, often far from home.  Take comfort that Shane has no such proclivity!

Let me invite the entire family to BrewFest in Seblingham!  Due to our efforts in aiding this village, the townsfolk regard my companions and I with great favor, and I am certain that we can, with some notice, arrange for suitable lodging for you all.  The festival itself should be first-rate.  The village is hoping to have all sorts of contests and merriment.  DA, it might be worth your while to mention the event to locals interested in selling their wares, especially wines, ales, beer and spirits, which will be greatly appreciated.  I am sure Shane will know the right sort of people to mention it to.

I miss you all, and look forward to coming home very soon for a visit.  Until then, I remain…

Your devoted son,

Wrye Leagallow

12 Reaping 574 CY

Dear Mustard,

How have you been?  How are your sisters and parents?  How is Paprika?  Life for me has gone from the simply odd to the downright bizarre and, at times, supremely dangerous.  As you may have learned from Rika, I have become a part of a team of adventurers known as The Swords of Sunndi.  Sounds important, doesn’t it?  Well, it’s never dull.

After a harrowing week spent in the Menowood, I had hoped for a few days of quiet.  We spent perhaps three or four days before we set out once more.  I should mention two events that occurred before we set off again.  The first was an archery tournament.  It started out as a wager between Kespin the bard and myself, but blossomed until five or six archers of one sort or another were competing.  While I shot fairly well, I did not win.  That triumph went to Mike, the hardiest of my colleagues.

The second event was that we Swords of Sunndi acquired an inn and tavern.  The inn had been abandoned for a time after its last owner was hanged for evil acts against the townsfolk.  Upon our inquiry the mayor, who is grateful to our band for our good works and assistance, made the inn a gift to us.  We quickly re-named it the Swords Crossing and set about getting it running again.

Mustard, I know NOTHING about running an inn and tavern!  Nor do any of my fellows.  We have a man who runs it for us for now, but he owns the other tavern in town and doesn’t really have the time to do the job proper.  I know you’re probably still making time with that “seamstress,” but if you or one of your sisters would be interested in trying your hands at running an inn on your own, we could sure use your help.  The position is yours if you want it; we left instructions so you can just show up in Seblingham and get it.

Oh, one other thing of some note did happen in town before we headed out.  Our nominal leader, the warrior-priest Kobort, declared his love for the blacksmith’s daughter.  If I were writing to Rika, I’d have to spend a couple pages on this thing, but suffice to say she welcomed his words with some of her own.  Give it a year, and we will have some little Koborts running around.

Anyhow, after our brief stop we got back on the road north towards Pawford, to ask some human priests of their harvest god, Berei I think they call it, to come to Seblingham and set up shop.  On the road, we met a man named Jennar, who was also headed north to look for work.  He claimed that he’d lost his home and family to raiders in the east.  I thought the man pleasant enough and felt sorry for his loss, but Kobort and Kespin treated him in a most suspicious manner.  During the two days that he traveled with us, the pair lost no opportunity to hammer at him with questions.  After two or so days of such unrelenting interrogation, Jennar quit our company and chose to ride his poor horse ahead of us.

Truly, his horse was no match for our steeds, as it was merely a broken down old plowhorse.  However, when we caught up with it, Jennar was nowhere to be found.  At Kobort’s urging, I found his tracks heading into the Hollow Highlands, which was very odd as it was almost directly away from where he had stated was his destination.

Where before I had endured Kobort’s treatment of the man with growing impatience, now even I believed there was more to Jennar than had appeared.  We tracked him into the Highlands, losing his trail once and regaining it with the help of one of the more southerly halfling militias.  I did not recognize their insignia or name.

We caught up with our quarry by nightfall.  We came over a rise and saw a man we believed to be Jennar curled up on the ground.  As I am the quietest, I was tasked to get closer and make sure it was our man, and what he was up to.  As I approached, I discovered that not only was it not Jennar, but the human was bound in shackles at wrist and ankle.  And he was watching me intently.

Suddenly, I heard the twang of a bow and an arrow sprouted in front of me.  I twisted away from the hidden archer and shouted for my companions, but despite my efforts I was struck by the next volley.  It was in that moment, as I felt my strength begin to ebb from me, that I realized this bowman had poisoned his arrowheads!

From the underbrush ahead of me came Jennar as my colleagues charged into the fray.  Westwind and Kespin made quick work of my would-be assassin while I tried to keep Jennar from the prisoner on the ground.  Mike and Kobort tried to assist the poor man, but just then, from over the next hill rode a half-orc mounted upon a jet-black charger and wielding a mighty flail.  He and Kobort went at it hammer and tongs, or I should say sword and flail.  This villain wore the colors of Hextor, the greatest foe of Kobort’s god.

It took some doing, but we were finally able to vanquish both the half-orc and Jennar, taking the pair prisoner.  Upon closer inspection of the half-orc, he could have been Kobort’s twin brother, so alike they look.  He lacks only the calm grace and noble nature that Kobort often exudes.

The shackled prisoner turned out to be a former Knight Protector of the Great Kingdom, captured by these villains and bound for a slave’s life in the south somewhere.  What had started as a simple trip now had thrust us into deep and murky waters, both political and magical.

Much of the Knight’s tale we learned that evening and next day as we recovered from the fight.  For a time, the poison so overwhelmed me that I lacked even the strength to move, and had to concentrate to keep breath in my lungs.  His story troubles me more than I can say.  Last we heard, the Wandering Prince was in that Kingdom.  I pray to Arvoreen he and his retinue have not come to any harm.

Speaking of the Prince, can you believe that my fellow halfling, Westwind Hillfollow, has never heard of the Wandering Prince? How odd is that?

The next day, we continued in our journey north.  In the afternoon, we ran into a troop of bugbear raiders, which we made short work out of.  We are still destined for Pawford, although the word on the road is that there is plague in that town.  Kobort believes he can lend some divine assistance to the affected townsfolk there.

Please give Paprika my love and affection, and tell her I hope to return to Nayford very soon to see her again.  I hope your DA liked the mug I sent; he can tell all the neighbors it belonged to a great southron ranger and hero of the Menowood named Allyn Claiborne.  I hope that tickles him some…your DA always liked stories.

Give my best to your mum and all your other sisters.  And Mustard, please consider the offer- an inn of your own to run!

Your Friend,

Wrye Leagallow