Novels2Search
7780, or: Children of a White Rider
A Letter from the Hand of Tsemdrach to Vera of Ardaliril

A Letter from the Hand of Tsemdrach to Vera of Ardaliril

A Letter from the Hand of Tsemdrach to Vera of Ardaliril

Good tidings to you as well, high huntress of the Iril, for I hope the war against the boy-slave is good and fortunate, as it has been a long time since we've recieved your correspondence, and I hear through our own people on their pilgrimages of your war against the fire knights and their witch out of that elf city.

I hope that the Vermite where you find your company is also well, as it has been a good decade since Haron-sagrung last walked the steps of Drachsemdalach and gifted to our King, who found his thoughts pleasing and his insight bountiful, and thus wished more, though received nothing since.

While the letter you send is marked with good words and decent plea, I am sorry to say I cannot entertain any neutrality, as a great tragedy has befallen the Owm merely a few days before I write, by which I mean the death of the King's daughter, who was turned sick and delirious with newfound disease, brought upon by the light brush of an unseen foe, whose allegiances we have not yet ascertained, and thus we cannot make pact or vow in the off-chance, as much as I wish it not to be true, of your involvment.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

At the moment the King is in grieving and furious, as while there are many ailments to break the Owm, none of have hit so vividly as this, a disease which has taken the form of fiendish salivating, a violent disposition, and a striking fear of water, of which I have never seen before in any Wort, Shiver, Pox, Reek, of any place, and for that reason we surmise, after a prolonged council, that such a disease must come from across the icy seas.

We too cannot make our own promises, as in his fury, the King demanded us scour our homes for clues of this disease's origin, and having found nothing, we must entertain small night talks to flurry marching bands, by which I mean we will look beyond the cold frigids of our home and towards the vast forests near the Ardalian borders and the dead frosts of the Elder camps, whose neutrality may soon turn to hostility depending on what we find.

I must end this letter, short as it is, with assurance that if you, your subjects, and your realm have made no moves against us, then we will cast not even a glimpse of war upon your lands, and our fury shall only be meted out in just fashion against those proven to have wronged us.

As always, we enjoy speaking to our lowland brethren, and wish the best as the Dihr-omwsech settle their disputes.