Steadfast salutations, Thrundun, son of Thrurson this very Nightal, 31.
I confirm and acknowledge reception of your fourth missive and extend my solemn salutations to your Clanmates. News as such brought to me by it are cause for grave pondering and remembrance. The loss of your own Kin, all Stout Folk shall mourn their demise in due and proper form; thrice so I shall, for in alliance blood ties are forged and your loss brings sorrow befitting such ties. May they find solace in the Soulforge's firm embrace, their souls singing the Mordinsamman's glory unto eternity, their watchful eyes bent upon us and steering the living away from the vagaries and dangers of this world.
I also wish for the swift return of Odren, son of Odyn and Bradwyrr, son of The One That Shall Not Be Named to your Clanhold; long have they toiled under a merciless sun, under biting wind and soaking rain. I read of their doings regularly; their toil holds merit and in skill-less lands such as these, I am certain that they shall return to you with stories of success against land and goblyn alike. In the event this missive finds them returned thither, I ask that you convey my formal greeting to them.
Your Clan's workings are not mine to voice judgement upon, out of respect for your strange predicament. A worthy female Sonnlinor or a proven, able scion of Clan Silversteel? I would not dare venture unto such paths, for word wrought in anticipation of your Clan's wisdom is foolish and outright dangerous. Hróin's heart would side with your long-established Clan tradition and nay be turned by this recent, unfortunate turn of events; Hróin's heart would welcome Thrundun as Thane. But we, the Stout Folk, be nay rabbid animals, to act upon fickle whim, crude lust or bare instinct. Change is sadly inevitable and shall be wrought in ways oft unthinkable in times past. Would you speak more of your female claimant? May your choice be the foreman of a better future. To my Clan, any decision you reach shall be evenly respected.
I shall attempt to ease your spirit and tear your counsel away from such grave matters by bringing you word of my expedition and its findings. Indeed, a more joyous subject you shall find this, for finally, my toils and efforts were met with some success. Leading a (mostly) worthy group of adventurers, we managed to pierce deep unto the Earthfasts and return to the land Humans call Vlasta. Even there, death exacted a cruel toll upon our Kin: a certain Azarbuzlar Stahl was slain by acid-spewing, giant vermin. I expected ice and a piercing drive through the pale slaver goblyns' territory; instead our delving brought us in the Flaming Depths, where the Blood of the Mountain boils and coils in fierce wrath, ignorant of mortals and their doings. Yet even thither, the Stout Folk endure and even thrive. We encountered and secured safe passage through an outpost and mining foray of a certain Clan Oridak. A befitting Clan name, for stubborn they are indeed, to lay claim and shoulder danger in the Mountain's Heart. After exchanging greetings and words as our Ways edict, their foreman, the Laird of the Third Abyss, imparted to me precious information highly relevant to our search. Such cannot be impressed upon paper, for spies and lies abound in the Human Kingdom. When your Clan doings be dutifully accomplished, we must discuss at length about my findings and how best to exploit such. I find some of it difficult to believe myself; but stranger things have been known to happen and this marks a sharp turn of events. Could it be sufficient to end my years-long search, in which you partake? Needless to say, the Northern slopes of the Earthfasts shall be visited again. Soon.
And soon shall the debased offcast find itself in the iron grip of Dwarven retribution. Let Odren's heirloom serve elsewhere where it be more needed. My worthy father's memory shall be cleansed of the blemish cast upon it by that insolent thinblood. Your support in this steels my resolution further. Tirelessly I toil and I bide my time. Let it slumber fitfully, in worriless torpor.
For now.
In anticipation of the Turning of the Stone Wheel,
Hróin, son of Bróin.-
:: The letter ends with an intricate drawing of an enormous, bare Mountain with a sturdy steel shield depicted as a gate to the sole entrance to its depths. The Mountain’s background is filled with angry roaring fires, a true blazing inferno. ::
//I will " @tithe 1 halanth re: Hroin's Silversteel letter " next time I am online, to illustrate the cost of the Kromar-bought writing provisions and the Sailor Star's private room rental. If the DM team feels the cost should be higher, please inform me so I may cover the difference IG. Thank you.