Writing Home: Wargs and Tombs


Hell of a time in Angmar. Glad you weren’t here, it was a real pain in the arse. We went to some tomb, real dark and nasty, to meet up with another former Wayfarer. This one was an elf, name was Rainercar or something. Everyone called her Rain, though. Feel bad for the newer Wayfarers, they’re getting introduced to all the weird ones: that guy who betrayed you all apparently, a drunk Hal, and now this Rain elf who really didn’t seem to care much what happened to anybody.

Someone triggered a big trap and a bunch of nasty stuff got dunked on us. Slime or something. Real nasty. Unfortunately a couple people got poisoned and Bitra got the worst of it by far. We kept pressing on, though, cause Rain insisted on getting some journal or whatever. Finally found it but then a bunch of wargs appeared.

Could’ve gone my whole life without knowing that wargs can talk. The leader was a real mean one, red, could talk. Had a big grudge against Oendir, apparently he killed her father or something. Even offered to let us all go, except for him, but no way were we leaving him there with a bunch of wargs ready to rip him apart. Thankfully Garrett got Gil and Bitra to agree to leave though, so they were safe. Obviously the rest of us made it out okay too, considering I’m writing you right now.

As thanks for helping get that journal, Rain gave everyone a gem. Seems real special, she said it was crafted in Eregion. Looks special and even Oendir seemed to act like these were priceless or something. Not exactly something I feel like carrying around who-knows-where, so I’m enclosing it here for you. Maybe I can smith something with it when I get back.

Bitra’s looking real bad but the healers here say she’s going to be alright. Just needs some rest. The others that got hit with the poison are doing good, too. Apparently we’re going on a real long trip next, so we’re just healing on up before hitting the road. Miss you every day, babe. It just isn’t the same without you.


Writing Home: Hobbits and Hal


Things keep getting weirder and weirder. You would’ve loved tonight, and I wish you were here. We’re in the Shire, right on that party hill where we got married. There was some ceremony for a warg fight, apparently happened a decade ago. Shoot, where was I a decade ago? Probably getting drunk and teasing Frank or something.

Anyways, it wasn’t much of anything — we just happened to be in the area — but then we had to go rescue the food from some fool tweens. Crazy part of that was that Hal was with them. Of all people! Drinking and having a good time and all that. It was real funny: Oendir convinced them we were all elves and that he put a curse on them, so they ran off. Took all I had in me to not bust a gut laughing.

Hal’s doing alright. Hoping he’ll head on back to Bree, like Oendir was asking him to. Think he could do with some head-on-shoulders putting. Ceremony was alright, boring with speeches and stuff, like usual. Food was real good too.

Shoot, this is a boring letter. Then again, it’s the Shire. And hobbits. How exciting can it get, right? Well, minus that warg stuff anyways.

If it wasn’t already past midnight, I’d ride Bess on home right now, even if I had to turn right around and head back. It’s only a couple hours’ hard ride, if you do it right. Got to get to bed though, instead. Being so close but so far is annoying. Just want to curl up in bed with you for a week. (Don’t let Jaemy read that part.)

Love you,


Writing Home: The Old Forest


Ran across Eirikr this time, which was right nice. Well, except for where we ran into him: the Old Forest. Bugger spends more time in here than I thought he did, given how easily he just wandered right through it. He’s doing good, gave Oendir a small ring for his token… was real surprised to see that, but hey, considering I left my pendant up on Weatherhill, I don’t got much room to talk.

The Old Forest is a pain in the arse. We were wandering around looking for a big flower (the kids found it with Godric), but then the forest… put us to sleep or something. Was real weird. We all passed out and woke up all over the place, but good thing Sirifast and Oendir were nearby. Found them and we made our way back. Had to go past some big old tree. Oendir called it “Old Man Willow.” Stupid thing made Sirifast pass right out, falling into the water, but we carried him out. Don’t know why it bugged him so much, I didn’t feel anything.

The kids got leeched all over, seems like Gil got the worst of it. Bitra, too, but she kept them all together somehow. It’s real good Godric was with them. He and Eirikr got them out, and found that huge white flower. Thing was taller than me!

Drew a small picture of it for Jaemy. Tell her to imagine it’s as big as me, because it was. Miss you a bunch. Garrett’s an okay person to share a tent with, but he ain’t you. Really wish you could be here.

Love you,


Writing Home: Dead People Should Stay Dead


Well, it was definitely drier. Probably too dry. Some crazy shit went down yesterday. We got word about Cardolan and someone trying to fix it all up. Made it real obvious it was a Wayfarer, too, so we went on to do that and get a token. Apparently it was some guy named Rennec. Real mercenary, that one. But hey, he helped us with a token and we helped cleanse that pile of rubble, so that’s right good for me.

Cardolan was, don’t act so surprised, full of dead things. Wights. Gaunt-lord. Fun stuff. Why can’t dead people just stay dead? I’m alright, don’t you worry none. Got knocked over and dragged around by some magic chains, but it’s nothing big. Bitra already cleaned me on up and gave me some bruise salve. You trained her real well, love. I know you were talking about not being sure you would be any good at it, but you are.

Oh, yeah. And that Cirieldis woman from Dol Amroth showed up. Apparently she can turn into a swan. She and some other swans ripped apart some of those wights. Never thought I’d see that in my life. Right weird, really.

I miss you all more than I can write. I’m not a poet or anything. So I sketched something real fast for Jaemy, instead. Don’t got time for painting, or supplies, but it’s a right nice view here and I thought she’d might like it.

Love you,


Writing Home: Swamps Stink


Did you know that swamps stink real bad? We had to go trudging through the swamps in the Lone Lands and it was awful. Apparently there’s some kind of earth-kin people and they gave us directions to go talk to a swamp-witch to get a token from her.

Hey, did you know that the Commander’s got another son? Well, I don’t think it’s blood relations — he’s half-orc. Anyways, he helped us get there. Man, that swamp-witch was ugly. Gave us some rabbit foot or something, so hopefully the trip wasn’t a waste. Told Oendir some weird prophecy about being successful helping Fionwe but not coming back from it. That’s probably a load of crap, though. She’s just mad because that half-orc kid threatened her into helping us.

Gonna take a day or two of washing my boots before they stop stinking.

Cor, I miss you so much, babe. Hope you’re all doing alright there. Don’t know where we’re off to next, but here’s hoping it’s somewhere dry.


The Sunshine: A Compromise


Things are coming along really good. Healer even said that I might get the brace off my wrist a few days early! Stuck with the damned sling for a while yet, though. Never break your collarbone, it’s the worst. My hip is healing too, but now it’s in that really nasty stage. I’ll…spare you the details. It itches so much.

Mum and I went over to the jail yesterday to talk with them about what they got out of him. So this guy doesn’t even know who I am or nothing, he just got paid to do it. Who the hell would pay someone money to attack me? I’m not that annoying, am I?

They’re gonna hold him until he starts talking, but seems like he’s keeping his mouth shut for now. Doesn’t want to break his word, a really weird thing for a guy willing to beat someone up for pay. But I came up with a really good idea, though. I think it’s a good idea, anyway. Mum isn’t so sure yet, but I’m right confident about it.

Don’t get mad. I’m gonna go offer to pay this guy’s fine if he gives us the name and leaves Bree-land. He won’t get out until we can confirm that the guy who hired him is actually the one who did it, but I’ll let him go if we can get that figured out. I’ve got a good reason for it: even if that first guy sits there and wastes away in jail, what’s to stop this other guy from hiring someone else?

Not a big fan of rewarding some jackass with the nerve to attack a woman for some coin, but I really don’t like the idea of someone out there just…waiting to find the right person to beat me up again. Get to the root of the problem, then rip it out of the ground and throw that fucker in jail.

So that’s my plan tomorrow. Hopefully it works. Speaking of work (writing of work, whatever), Mum agreed to let me start heading back to the market after my wrist brace is off. She’s gonna come with me, won’t let me say anything otherwise, but it’s something. I need to get out, see people, feel the sun again. Being stuck in here is horrible after a few days. This is like the time I got diphtheria. Ugh.

I miss you. You better be doing okay. Remember to watch out for those bears. You know, I realized that you’re going to be away on your birthday…you did that on purpose. I’ve got your real present here, but you’re just going to have to come back home to get it! Not that easy. To tide you over, I wrote the first chapter of that book and it’s in this package. It’s absolutely terrible and you better enjoy it. Let me know if you can figure out what the repetitive word is. I’ll save the rest for when you get back here.

I can’t wait until you’re back. Nights are steadily getting cooler around here and you’re a lot warmer than the pillows. I keep dreaming about throwing snowballs at you, then going inside and drinking spiced wine. I love you, Frank. So much. Be safe.

Woad Sprite

Continue reading “The Sunshine: A Compromise”

The Sunshine: So Angry


It’s been three weeks already and I only got one of your letters. It’s been real frustrating not knowing what’s going on, and now I’m pissed because I have to write you a real bad letter right off the bat. I’m sorry. I hope this actually reaches you. I’m just sending it to the city with your name on it, like you said.

First off: I’ll be fine, I’m healing, don’t worry. But it’s been a real shit week for me, having to deal with the Watch and pain and stuff.

So I was walking home after family dinner when some asshole ambushed me and shoved me between some buildings, trying to attack me. Well, I mean, he did attack me. Smashed my face and neck up good. Looks like I spilled purple dye all over my face. I managed to fight back after a bit, punched his head into the wall, but I hurt my hand doing it. Ran off to find someone from the Watch, but sliced myself bad on the way out. Found Sam patrolling, he managed to grab the fucker. So he got caught at least.

The healer said I broke m he broke my collarbone, my wrist is sprained real bad, and I’m going to have a nasty scar on my hip. But my face should heal up fine.

Mum and Nellie are going crazy over me, it’s only been a day and I’m already over it. They won’t let me get out of bed and keep offering to keep me company. Sure, my arm’s in a sling but I didn’t break my leg — I can walk around! It’s real sweet of them and all, but I just want to be left alone. Can’t believe I let some bastard get the drop on me, especially when he couldn’t even take a punch. I’m so pissed off. I miss you. I want to hug you. I don’t even care about the sex right now, I just want to hold your hand with my good one. That’s not true, I always care about the sex. But you know what I mean. Please don’t show that part to Os.

I really hope things are going better for you down there. The stuff you talked about before leaving was awful and dangerous and you better be careful, Burns, or I’ll hobble my way down there and set you straight. Remember, you promised.

Oh, if you tell Os, could you keep an eye on him? I don’t know if him finding out is a good idea, but if you really need to talk about it, just try not to worry him too much. I don’t want him thinking he’s got to come running back home. I’m fine. I’m healing. It’s just bullshit and it sucks. Guess I got a lot of time on my hand, now. Get it? One hand. At least it’s my writing hand. You know what? I might actually write you that stupid book. I’ve got the time now. Hell, I’ll even name the characters Fronk and Kimmers.

I can’t wait until you’re back, Frank. It’s getting colder here and I think I saw some leaves changing color the other day. This is supposed to be your season. We’re supposed to throw leaves at each other and you’re supposed to mull more of that mead with your cousins and we should be hiding to make out in the pumpkin patches until they find us and––

Cor, the pain medicine is kicking in. I’d scratch out that last part, but I’m sure you’ll love it. I miss you. I love you so much, Frank. Don’t get hurt, and come back home when you can.

Your woad sprite (yes I love it, shut up),