Too many a moon has passed since my time spent at Restov, where I last found the time to send you any tidings on my travels, and I would make it a point to first send you my deepest regrets and sincerest apologies if this lack of news has caused you any worry or grief.
However, I also rejoice to inform you that I may well be on a path to find new and prosperous regions where our poverty-stricken people could find a peaceful home once more. Since my last scribblings to you, I have joined a band of adventurers in the service of the Rostland swordlords, sent out to explore and settle the Greenbelt, down south in the infamous Stolen Lands. First of all, however, allow me to briefly tell you about my journeys of the past months and this most noble band of outcasts I’ve been travelling with, for all of this constitutes a veritable odyssey of bravery, heroism and cunning, with much more supposedly still in store.
Rather long-winded account of every fight, encounter and important governing decision since the party’s departure from Restov, with a notable attention to Milon’s now being the lord of a small territory in the Greenbelt (important when keeping in mind: a- his goal of finding a new home for his clan, and b- his youthful arrogance)
The night after that last fight in Lofield, our cunning druid and spellcaster Emrys set off in the night on some mission of his own, promising to get back to us in due time at the Land Diet, which is drawing ever closer as I write this. The rest of us took care of some religious and political matters in Lofield, making sure that the goddess Desna would be appeased, appointing a new and trustworthy mayor, taking the three most radical surviving cultists with us to leave them as forced labourers at Belana Strongarm’s mine, and setting off to the west, stopping at Oleg’s trade post and Kesten’s River Camp before heading to Varnholt and ultimately to Restov.
Our stop at Oleg’s didn’t teach us much on the diplomatic front, apart from the obvious fact that profits from trade could be augmented a great deal by expanding the number of safe trade routes in our youngest of dominions, as the only route that can currently be relied upon is the one leading from Oleg’s to and from Restov. To be precise, a safe passage between our dominion and Maegar’s Varnholt could be of great commercial, political and military value. I cannot be entirely sure of what I’m about to write now, dearest mother, but I also couldn’t help suspecting that Oleg, who has been a most helpful ally so far, didn’t quite show us the back of his tongue in these political matters. However, he did inform us that Ivan had received another letter from his mysterious conniving patron, asking how we might vote at the Land Diet –which shows that someone in Brevoy other than the swordlords displays great interest in our endeavours-, and that Kesten had sent word of a most enigmatic elven figure awaiting our arrival at River Camp.
Arriving at Kesten’s recently built stronghold, we first cleared out some judicial issues and were then introduced to the elf in question, who turned out to be none other than Orodreth Heru-Luin, a paladin out of Mivon, a nation founded by fugitive swordlords in the days of the infernal Choral, damned be his name, to the south of the Greenbelt. Orodreth, as he told us himself, was sent out on a diplomatic mission on behalf of his lord councillor Resten Seline, to seek our assistance in two pressing matters that severely threaten the safety of his nation. First of all, it would seem that our dubious friend the Wolf Lord hasn’t exactly been sitting on his hands during our truce, since raiding parties of werewolves and feyish creatures have been attacking the northern borders of Mivon’s territory. Secondly, Pitax, a warlike nation to the southwestern border of the Greenbelt, reigned by some megalomaniacal nutcase whose name I didn’t quite catch, is threatening the fragile peace that is currently still maintained between his dominion and Mivon. Of course, at this time we are far from having the political and military influence required to be of great assistance in these matters, but as Orodreth was travelling to New Stetven for the Land Diet as well, he willingly accepted our proposal to travel there together. Who knows, he might yet be of great help in the building of our Lady of Stonemark’s youthful nation, fulfilling his own diplomatic mission at the same time.
What’s more, this recent companion of ours would soon have the occasion to prove his valour as a fighter, for when we arrived at Belana’s mine to drop off our prisoners (our last stop before heading off to Varnholt) it turned out that our dwarven friends were under attack by about a hundred blue creatures about the same size as me, and who put up one hell of a fight when we charged at them. With great help from Orodreth, whose skill as a two-handed swordsman I can only admire after this battle, we managed to slay a great deal of these strangest of creatures, and while their leader, a druid-like human figure, escaped before we even had a chance to get near him, I did manage to capture at least one their survivors. It turned out that there had been skirmishes with these creatures before, Belana even told us she had an approximate idea of their hideout.
But enough of our battles for now, dearest Mother, for there are other pressing matters that urge me to write you this letter. Indeed, as you have read, we are on our way to New Stetven, where we should arrive in about ten days from now. It seems to me that this would be the right time to ask for a private interview with our Lady of Stonemark, in which I could broach the subject of rallying Halfling support for the Greenbelt cause. I am fairly sure that my companions would be open to the idea of welcoming our people in these lands that we are exploring. What’s more, I am convinced that our people’s very particular breed of ambush-warfare and our exploring expertise could come in more than handy in the many adventures that undoubtedly still await us in conquering the rest of these territories. However, I know as well as you do that you have at your disposal an invaluable amount of contacts among our clan’s peers in Brevoy. With this in mind, I would kindly ask you the favour of arranging a meeting with any of these people during my stay at New Stetven, at a time and place to be determined by them. I have no doubt that they will be able to find my whereabouts in an instant, and even less doubt that any Halfling would be more than willing to answer my call, if it were to openly receive your support.
The hour is getting late and morning will soon dawn upon our sleeping party. It is time for me to finish this letter and get it on its way. As always, I bid you to accept the expression of my enduring love for you, dearest Mother, and hope to hear back from you faster than I have seen fit to write to you.