Author Topic: Letters Home  (Read 376 times)

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Random_White_Guy

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on: May 12, 2020, 05:43:53 AM
A number of aged letters

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Dearest Mother,

Leaving you was hands down the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I know you did a great deal to secure father's blessing for my arrangement and for that I extend my gratitude once more. Your old healer's satchel and the blade he left you have already served me very well. Without question I prefer stitch work to blade work but my scant lessons with steel have paid off. Per your last missive I've enclosed my wages for the current leg of the campaign, it is my hope at the very least as you have enough now to cover what it cost earning His favor.

I will write back as soon as I am able.

Ever yours,
B

Quote
Dearest Mother,

During the time between our correspondence it has been difficult to catch a breath let along collect my thoughts. The Captain lives well to his reputation as both hunter and commander so training and marching between contracts has been the order of the day. You wanted me to see the world? Well I'm pleased to share I have burned the soles through my first pair of boots. That old pair you gave me before I departed has been lost in a combination of the rain, muck, and acidic burns.

Enclosed is the next portion of my shares. Your last missive brought me no shortage of comfort as our greatest challenge lay before us. The Captain has taken a sizable contract.

Ever yours,
B

Quote
Dearest mother,

I am at a loss. It is one thing to stitch a man from an arrow wound to the shoulder, a cut hand, even the more careful stitching of a spear through the thigh. This though? This is... Small gods save me. This is the most horrific thing I've ever seen. The blood, the scents, the screaming. I have never seen a man subject to such brutality and horror as what I have witnessed in this place. I will spare you the grim details that have driven me to two cups this evening, perhaps a third yet awaits.

We saved him after we found him but be are still appraising what occurred.

Every yours,
B

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Dearest Mother,

A turnskin.

The damn fool. He thought it was just a mongreldog...

Four of the company were killed before we were able to bring him down after he turned. I should have seen it. The signs were all there. How could I be so stupid?  The Captain finally laid him low but I... I have never failed so fiercely in my life.  This will be my last missive for a time. I have enclosed the most recent share.

B
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Random_White_Guy

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on: May 13, 2020, 09:35:25 AM
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Dearest Mother,

The situation around the camp has soured severely though optimism slowly returns. We have had a few successful hunts and some of the others are thirsted for vengeance. Betwixt you and I there is a wonder how long such a fuel can burn before it consumes them wholly. Some of them have grown so reckless but Captain D'Etemere assures me so long as I keep stitching they'll keep fighting. It's fascinating to hear some of the tales he shares of his time in the Ring Fifty. To think of traveling so far boggles the mind.

Ninety Eight has proven a hellscape I cannot imagine the deeper rings. On the plus side however even with the wages I send your way, another enclosed, I have earned my Hat at long last. A slight hazing they offered me and some spirited ribbing.

With the Hat has come a degree of respect and I've been given permission to engage in a new project.

I dare say instead of helping men kill things the Captain will at last hear out my proposal for steps beyond prevention.

Wish me luck mother and I hope all well.

Ever yours,
B
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Random_White_Guy

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on: May 24, 2020, 09:50:36 AM
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Dearest Mother,

I cannot put into words how painful it is being once more among Civilization. I do apologize that it has been so long since I last wrote but matters have been so frustrating. I returned to the Company to find the Silver Hats in disarray. While they continue their fair hunts and their wondrous pursuits they have taken gleefully to welcoming the subhuman among their midst. It immediately left me short chance to make conversation with the newer recruits or even find that feeling of companionship I once had. I had hoped Retainer Elsbeth spoke falsely but then I saw with my own eyes that they bandied with the creatures plaguing the Ward.

I tried to continue my oath upheld to the Baron It was only a matter of days before I found myself beaten and driven from Ticker because of one oaf's misunderstanding. Without means to return to Ticker Square as the Open Door now sealed to me I was released from my oath. It hurt. For so long the oath has given me a sense of purpose and drive. To take what so many call a child's fantasy, to see monsters purged from this world, to bring some semblance of peace. The curing of Lycanthropy would bring not only peace to the Ward but it would fundamentally alter the Inquisitor's duties for all times and questions to come.

My meeting with Retainer Blackram went as anticipated, condescension and insult and derision believing he knew anything of me but basest conjecture.  And now I hear he is dead and dragged to the Mongrelwoods undoubtedly revenge for his slaying of the Recondite.

There is no new Inquisitor and I do not have the bloodlust to see the position filled, so my research goes to no one. I merely putter around this Casino. The Groat is a fine establishment and which offers...It offers a degree of peace but it is such a distraction from my work. The money I have won at the tables is considerable and it should be fair income for my research but over and over the same question circles my mind.

With so few I can truly trust how much can I actually pursue this work?

The woman Lucretia wishes everyone to call her Domina, some honorific from her old life but her interests in the Rings, and Ticker, and the Arena, it splits her focus so heavily. The gamesman Arek wished to sell me some information I would be "Very interested in" but how can one trust someone who by their very nature peddles in secrets? Mercenaries are few and far between in the Peerage so my options grow even thinner. The newest addition to Father's retinue, Niven, has extended invitation to aid me in my hunts of the Catacombs and seems fascinated with my works on Vampyr.

It worries me though as  do not care for politics. I do not care for games. I do not care for distractions. It's why I was so grateful that you secured me Father's blessing. I want to work, I want to pursue my research, I want those I can trust to travel the rings.

Forgive me mother I sound such a child. So very selfish.

It is not all bad. Two of the Apprentices of Goldalfus have spoken often with me and well of my dealings. Perhaps if by some miracle I find my way to their Warrens I can find some assistance in my research.

Enclosed are a portion of my gambling winnings I do hope they aid you well.

Ever yours,
B
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Random_White_Guy

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on: June 04, 2020, 02:46:21 PM
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Dearest Mother,

Matters weigh heavily. I know I should not care, I know it shouldn't be my problem, but I fear I have too much of Father's pride in me. The Council of Peers was defied and the repercussions laughable. I know it shouldn't bother me but it burrows into my skin. The House of Glitt claims their oaths to their Lord which call for the aiding of those in need triumphs over the Council's decision. The Retainer of the Bannerhouse that issued the decree and laid the council session to rest stated they have worked against their own vote and that is that. So many awoken on so many sides. Do they not realize that if the Council is seen as effete then other Houses will follow suit and fall into disarray?

Perhaps Lucretia is right. Sunpurse has fallen low with a heady cocktail of apathy, desire for the rings, and those who could lead shirking their duties. What other alternative is there though? She and Jouvander spoke of House Orza bringing fury, but to rely upon fury is surely a dangerous path no? Pride such a more noble sentiment to build a foundation upon...

These trappings of politics I so hoped to ignore by avoiding Father's retinue just sink into my blood like licking a toad's venom. My research proceeds and my life is well enough where I do not create my own phantasms. I'm thankfully done "Working", I do not belittle your time as Servant but it certainly isn't the life for me.

Enclosed are my winnings, perhaps soon enough a fine Dress you can procure from Webber's daughter.

B
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Random_White_Guy

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on: June 10, 2020, 05:31:42 PM
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Dearest Mother,

It is happening. I cannot believe it. After all the hardships and woes faced and the difficulties endured in that horrible place I have done it. I have found the woman I wish to love, if Father allows it. Striving to earn her favor has turned things around so fiercely, so swiftly for me that at times I feel drunk even when i've not taken up the Whiskey.

After the Council's rebuke of me despite Blackram's insistence I report my findings to the Council I have taken another approach. My work has been approved by four of the five Great Houses, the Royal Court Wizard, and the Royal Court Inquisitor. Seven men and women who, despite all odds, have taken my life's work to heart. After so long of being laughed out of drawing rooms, after so long of being mocked and derided as a fool with a heart bleeding for Mongrels, after so long being chastised for serving Father's retinue. The once deemed laughable now feels almost plausible as the Order of the Black Ram takes form.

If the overtures prove true, if Father approves, if her Mother doesn't oppose an exodus into the Rings may be in my future. and then wedding.

Enclosed are further winnings, and some fine prizes from those settling their debts.

B
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Random_White_Guy

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on: June 20, 2020, 06:21:56 AM
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Dearest mother,

I apologize for how long it has been since my last missive. Things have moved swiftly and so much occurs that I haven't had the quietest chance to share with you news. To begin I have begun my exodus into the Rings. While I do firmly believe the cause of winning Valentina's fairest hand a fine motivator already I am met with staunchest competition. Dear Nicholas has so much ground and each and every day she watches his practices in the dueling pitch. His reputation without compare even with his hardship, he sits Knighted by Father, hells... he even sits recognized by Father for his deeds. My heart sank when I learned he too had design for my beloved as I thought she would be too low below his station. Nadia Nephezar, Lady Mairead, so many other Lady fair father could have seen him wed to. Alas...

The Order of the Black Ram has garnered such attention. Men and women from across the city bring me reports and investigations, potential leads, threats to assess. It has been as if overnight a beacon lit and moths gather to the flame. Each report brings with it woe but in the Homeward there is so much abuzz. My Salon's have become frequented by even the Castellan of the Grey Keep and Ring Runners from the deepest realms of the City. It should make me so very happy but over and over I just...

I just wonder how much of it is for me? The Silver Hats were quick to mock that the only reason I ever welcomed to the outpost in the Mongrelwoods? Father. That the Baron wished his favor for new contract, fairest feasting at the Vale, political capital and otherwise for securing his name. Once more I have found myself approached under similar auspices and I do not know how to handle such things. I do not by any means believe the Lieutenant is a malicious woman nor that her intent folly. She seeks the best she may for her people, to complete her mission, to uphold her duty. There is a quiet nobility to such an oath upheld even when so separated from her rank and company. A proper soldier.

Once again though it circles towards Father. Ushering me through so many rings as I endeavor to carve Valentina's wedding band, what they may get from Father for seeing me forward, what their company may receive. It brings with it a sour taste that tempers my taste for whiskey. Wine seems more fitting as my demeanor that of sourest grape. Much like the Silver Hats though I took my time in their company and found myself adapting. It was not to hunt the Monsters but to cure the Lycanthrope. I need only find how I may make this time in the Rings an adaptable situation regardless of if they only traffic with me for Father's favor.

Should Nick take Valentina's hand perhaps at least I can find work with Gerard in the 93rd at his dig. Perhaps the Lancer's plans will work out. Elsewise maybe the Order shall simply be my workings up and down this city of ours. Seeing all you wished me to see.

Is this why you left to return to Willowgrove Park after that moonlit stroll with Father in the garden? Why I grew up with the mudlarks and chasing chickens? What was out here you hoped the Baron would bring me to see?  Or was it merely life you wished for me away from the dangers of what Willowgrove had become?

So many questions, so few answers. I fear I have no funds to send you from my forray as the travel to the Rings has been costly, Solace though I hope you find that I have reached the 88th.

B
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Random_White_Guy

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on: June 22, 2020, 04:35:50 AM
In deep ring under the roof of a mostly abandoned building a spurned suitor drinks heavily into the night.
On the table sits a near concluded but masterfully crafted painting of Valentina Webber by the swiftly rising star of the City of Ring's artworld Jano 'The Raider' Shall.
Unlike his other sketchworks this piece shows signs awaiting the Master's final touch before delivery to the recipient.
A true work of artistic talent and splendor surely costing a fortune of groats to secure if completed with color.

It is instead, amidst rumors of Velstran Nuptials, stained with First Class Whiskey and the soggy wrinkled canvas tossed on fire in the nearby Fireplace.

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Random_White_Guy

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on: July 08, 2020, 04:39:46 AM
Dearest mother,

Forgive me for not writing sooner. It has been a hellish time to say the least. Just when I thought I was over the matters with Valentina at her Wedding the worst in me came out. All over the Mendicant Saibhon's head and garb. Why was he even there!?

The place where you first met Father, the garden you so long tended in the Vale, has become my grave. Socially I have been executed. The last few days a blur of agony and misery, woe and unsightly agony. Where there was once indifferent apathy now replaced with open hostility. The Homeward has taken to hating me.

Nephezar struck me in the streets of Ticker. Gervasy of Orza chastised me fiercely and Jouvander issued his threats. Many of Sunpurse mocking me as Neela belittled my attempts at merchanting. As if I should be ashamed I am poor at the tending and toiling of a merchant's trade? Only a few came forward to show kindness, even that though felt so forced of hand. Time and again I was turned from the Council of Peers. It was almost an impossibility to secure any semblance of footing as I lacked Father's livery. Now though? Now if I wished it I'm uncertain they would even allow me to join them. Even Muggbert Skudge sang of higher praise, looking down on me.

Oddly enough it was the Blackjacks that would serve as my salvation. The brash young man Peter wanting his new Sergeant to show him favor. They pooled their groats and have purchased the splendid coat from Valentina. Father's hangover elixir is clearing my head and with my new found fortune it is time to proceed. If they are going to chastise me for having no honor and not defending myself in the Peerage, so be it I won't. Fie on them. The Silver Hats are gone. They ruined their names and sullied themselves allowing Gnome and Elf to drag their reputations through mud. Baron d'Esmerete back to the Fiftieth with his fortunes and little care for any of us. Raventree fleeing to Baz'eel.

The rebellion's conclusion presents a rare opportunity. Using my groat from selling the coat from my love I have bought stake in a most unique enterprise to pursue that which I hate.
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Random_White_Guy

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on: July 13, 2020, 08:39:41 AM
Dearest Mother,

For all his splendid wit and charm for the life of me I cannot understand how Father has always done what he has done. A man such as Frick who often took care of me between tutorings, a man whose dedication to the House was so robust that even his own Daughter would press on to become a Dame in service of the Family. These Awoken who arrive, witness the feast, partake of its splendor and then find themselves so beholden to the man that they would pledge their lives and give Oath. Nicky his Lionsguard, Nat her spinster's circle, even Ruul his apprentices. Ash even has her Harcourts.

In the Mongrelwoods I had my clinic in the Outpost but my meals had with my books between hunting parties coming and going. Arriving to Ticker there was nothing I could do as the Silver Hats chose the subhumans, treating with the recondite. Most of my time spent in the Casino playing cards with those who came and went. In the Anthophilous Society it was men and women sworn to others who would seek my Salon for ideas or distraction before returning to their true friends and masters.

I was a pariah long before I made mess of myself before the Bride and Groom.

Even this evening Joseph and I spent hour talking and even he would not join me, leaping like a trained puppy the chance Glitt waved status as retainer in his face. I have no doubt a short and brutal life awaits him as he dies for some principle.

How does Father do it? So many Awoken singing to his song and dance. How did Lady Glitt do it? Ser Geno walked through hell to see her and her father's reputation improved. How did Lord Grigori do it? His Capo cutting bloody swath through any who opposed them.

I sound such a child, Mewling over my loneliness while I hold in my hands a missive from the Vale.

One is never lonely on the battlefield. It is when one returns to civilization the howling in the ears grows louder.
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