Image from Huntington Library Ms HM 60, f°7, 15th C.

Letters from Home
Being the 10th day of March
of Anno Societatus LIV
known as 2020 of the Common Era

My Dearest Cristina,

Your duties have taken you exceedingly far away across the seas, and slow traveling missives vex me, my friend.
I will attempt to put pen to parchment and bring you news.

Our King has called for the Army and the good citizens of Calontir to travel to the Southern reaches of Gleann Abhann on campaign to the Great Gulf War. Troubles there seem to ebb and flow like an expansive tide, ever reoccurring.

As you recall, I have oft journeyed south to give ease and aid to our kinsfolk in their mighty efforts. While there, I commonly break bread or bend the elbow with friends made during these campaigns. My heart fair sings, in the midst of the misery of battles, to encounter others I thought long gone.

My wagon was nearly packed in plan to travel with kith and kin to the war when I received word from my daughter in Ansteorra. She also has need of aid at her estate.

The distress in her words lay plain upon the page in every letter of every word. Oh! to be torn between loyalties! Duty to King and kinsfolk or faithfulness to blood of my blood.

In truth, I knew my answer before I spoke it. Choices are few in response to needs of clan and tribe.
Yet, my heart ached for commitments uttered then broken.

As a consequence, I trek still to the south, though not toward the great war.

I whine enough of mine own concerns. How goes your work in Drachenwald? Has spring yet arrived to the English countryside?

Rumours have reached my ears of an extensive plague ravaging the lands. Do take care, my friend. I pray you are well.

Spring mocks us here. One day fair and sunny the next day windy and snow covered. The geese fly, tempting us with thoughts of summer to come.
Our lands are rich and the gravid cattle waddle in expectancy.

I look to your return within the month and know not if this missive will reach you prior to you departure. We shall bend the elbow and feast on the last of the winter’s stores and tell tales of our adventures!

Ever your friend,
Nesscia