Karl Skargrimsson,
I spit on your soup and step on your goat, fierce and foul mouthed uncle.
The artefacts you've shipped have been a tremendous pain in my balls. Nonetheless, with them, I have gained fame, glory and riches in the sands surrounding Ephia's Well.
You should visit sometime to explore these lands, uncle, to see what's south.
I wish to know what the peoples of Frostport are saying about your nephews, and about our family.
For it is my wish and desire to inspire our peoples to reave and adventure like the Jarl used to.
But not past the Frost Porte to the North, no, towards the South, to Qadira and Ephia's Well and maybe even Arslan. I hope we have been proving ourselves here, proving the point that through our peoples knack for battle merrit and prowess, raiding and reaving, we are capable of attaining both riches and glory. Let the Disc tell tales of feared and dreaded Frostportians. More than simple traders and fishermen.
Perhaps you will read these words with great disdain, it would be typical of you.
Then I demand at least you write back nothing but truth, else stain your honour.
Your nephews,
Knud and Ivar