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Letter

'A strange letter'

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Naridalis returned to the kin house late in the night. The dust of the road was matted into her cloak, and as she entered, she finds a letter on the ground by the door, where it should not be.   
  

“Tender Hands Freeze Twice as Fast”

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Written as part of the unfolding plot of Northern Charter

PLEASE NOTE: An image created by AI is appended to this story which some may find suggestive of violence. It does not show 'intense violence or gore' or a bloody scene or the likes, and is therefore, in my view, entirely PG-13 and in keeping with the site rules. However, it is only right and proper to forewarn accordingly.

A Plea for Light

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Putting the finishing touches on the carefully ascribed letter Guri, felt free, as if the worst few days of her life were behind her now. She hated confrontation but the words once placed on the page were indelible, they formed a permanence, long unsaid words  freeing her of the their weight importance.

Rereading it one last time it says:

Deorla.

To Hrundis, From Manadhlaer of Imladris

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

The letter is bound and accoutered as formally as it can be for its journey by bird from Imladris to Erebor, which is a long way even for a determined bird. And yet the odd shower of fresh petals persists, in this case giving the effect of the tears of Nienna. The seal is thick wax, certainly the heaviest part for the poor bird, bearing the official imprint of Lósengriol. A calligrapher's mark under the signature is iwritten in a very muted red ink.

My dear Hrundis:

Of Condolence and Assurance

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

The letter is sealed in green wax, with a lily-of-the-valley stamped into it in gold and white powder. When the letter is opened, oddly fresh white petals fall from it. The cursive handwriting is graceful.

To Vignár, son of Tyrnár, of Erebor

My dear sir,

You will already have received the dreadful news from your son's friend Harnack, who resides at Hrimbarg in the North High Pass. I am deeply grieved for your sake.

A Reply to Finch

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

(( Note: This character Lorniel is not to be confused with the in-game NPC ))

(( The following letter is penned in a firm, bold hand; clean, clear, and without ornamentation, though not as precise and beautiful as courtly writings. It was written on a sheet of rather good-quality paper, which only suffered one or two minor splatters of ink, and placed inside an envelope of heavy, waxed parchment, which was sealed with a green wax bearing the stamp of a familiar shield and spear. ))

Finch,

Letter to Ethuilon III

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Ethuilon,

Perhaps you've already heard by now, but I'll put it here for the sake of honesty - I ran into Estelain at the Caravan Market last night.

And I'm happy for you. Truly. But I also might have threatened him with my axe a bit, so you have my apologies for that.

A Letter To One I Miss Across The Sea

in
What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

The letter itself arrives as any parcel or mail should, wrapped in a ribbon, stamped and cared for delicately. It is clear that the recipient of this letter, even across the sea, was important to whomever wrote it. Within the enfolded letter is a tiny, sewn package with a clear cut sapphire about the size of a flea inside.

 

Letter To Ethuilon II

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Ethuilon,

Of course you've bloody left Rivendell. Trust a Mirkwood elf never to stay in the same place for long. I always wondered how your folk could stand all that moving around. I reckon it's a bit like your Noldor cousins feeling the call to the West, except for you lot it's more like "the call to be an incorrigible pain in the arse at every possible opportunity".

Letter to Ethuilon I

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

Ethuilon,

Spare me your apologies. I'd rather your sworn word that it won't happen again, and I don't care how harmless you think it would have been. One philosophical conversation is no basis for

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