Letter from the Field
11 October, Anno Societatus LIIII
Being 2019 of the Common Era
Dearest friend Bindi,
I realize it has been overlong since I set ink on parchment to bring you tidings of our fair Calontir. Methinks other missives reach you on occasion, another mayhaps will find welcoming eyes.
On this day I am adding the final packages on my wagon for a journey to the Lake of Smith. Our good King and Queen, being childless, are searching for an Heir.
They have summoned all Their greatest warriors of Calontir to fight in a grand Tournament! The winner and consort shall become the Heirs and crowned Prince and Princess by right of arms.
Lord Øyríkr, a mighty fighter, thought of me, and requested me to be his consort in the tournament!
I must say the honor is too great!
For when he bests the other great lords and ladies, I shall be Queen of Calontir. I faint at the thought.
His lady wife, and my lord husband, have given their blessings, for they have no desire for the pomp and pagentry and responsibilities of the crown. Therefore, when he considered me, the way was clear for me to agree.
The northern winds blow, bringing such a chill to my very bones. Soon the snows will fill our lands, and we must needs prepare. How lucky are we to have such fine companions who endlessly prepare our estates for leaner times.
My servants and I have stitched new garb for Lord Øyríkr and myself. He bought a lovely linen and trim, though methinks with winter nigh upon us, verily, other garb of fine wool will soon be completed as well.
The wagon is nearly ready, I consider the chill journey south and our countryfolk in their tents during the time of the Tournament. Methinks there shall be more than fires for cooking burning throughout the nights.
Alas, word comes that the courier has entered my estate. I must needs seal this missive and deliver it unto his hands ere he departs. I know not when the next courier passes. Hold us in your prayers that the new Heirs are good and kind and will do right in these lands.
Though you now live in the northernmost reaches of the Kingdom of the West, your friends here hold you dearly in their hearts. Your lovely countenance is sorely missed.
As ever, your friend,