Stanhold Residence
Eastern Farmstead
Waterdeep
Dear Fran,
Hello sister, hope you and the others are doing well. How is Joey? Still getting into trouble at school?
My journey to the island of Arelith has been halted. I've laid over in Skaljard for a time, not sure when I'll be able to secure continued passage. Once I can find a lucrative market on the main island, I will be able to send back more gold.
How is Father's illness? Have the doctors been of any help? How is Mother taking it? It is very helpful to have Aunt Georgina and Uncle Jakob managing the estate affairs while Father is dealing with his trouble.
Funnily enough, I was reminded of the time Jakob had to save Joey from a wild lion that had chased him up a tree on that one hike we took the other day. A large snow leopard tracked me and some others back to the town here, just at its outskirt. When it was discovered we turned and slew it without harm, but it almost got ahold of the priestess that traveled with us. She was a frightful thing. I couldn't make out the amulet on her neck in the dark of the cave we traversed, but she wore all white.
Send word if any others come after me! I trust you to give me a heads up. I will find a way to help Father here, the others needn't come.
Be vigilant. Stand, wait, and watch carefully.
My love,
Charles Stanhold
Arelith isles
Skal
Skaljard
Letter Addressed to Stanhold Residence, Waterdeep
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Anime Sword Fighter
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Anime Sword Fighter
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Re: Letter Addressed to Stanhold Residence, Waterdeep
Stanhold Residence
Library
Waterdeep
Dear Tomas,
I hope you are well, my old friend. I miss making a pot of tea and listening to your stories with the others. I was recalling your story of the wizard who made another body the other day, let me retell it here--
An old man sat alone in his study one evening. He was reflecting on his life, and his future. The fear of imminent death gripped him suddenly, and he realized he was not yet ready to die in his age. He began studying certain magicks, concocting experiments late into every night. His husband grew worried, making him soup and cleaning up after him in the meantime.
One day, the wizard got it. He thrust together some clay, painted runes on its wet surface, and uttered his incantations. The body formed into an exact copy of himself. It had no mind of its own, but he could control it and let it mimic his own personality.
He could send it to the market for groceries, substitute it at boring business meetings, even used it to answer the door when unwanted company came to their house. The wizard felt himself grow feebler and feebler every passing day, until finally his deathbed was here. He wanted to transfer himself into the created body, but in his death throes he couldn't muster the correct enchantments. The husband and the wizard's family mourned him, as he finally died.
A screeching from the wizard's back room made them jump, so a few went to check it out. There they found the body, curled up on the floor, whimpering. It whined, "Please, let me die. Kill me!" before it finally turned to stone, and then dust.--
I remember you used to tell us this story when you wanted to impart onto us kids to keep our noses down and accept reality. Well, that's a bit hard to do here. I've seen some wondrously frightening things. Great big monsters, powerful sorcerers. Perhaps I can draw some sketches and send them sometime.
Please help the others in their research. If anyone can find a hidden cure for Father's disease, you are it.
Careful planning always defeats rushed actions in the end.
Love to you,
Charles Stanhold
Arelith isles
Skal
Skaljard
Library
Waterdeep
Dear Tomas,
I hope you are well, my old friend. I miss making a pot of tea and listening to your stories with the others. I was recalling your story of the wizard who made another body the other day, let me retell it here--
An old man sat alone in his study one evening. He was reflecting on his life, and his future. The fear of imminent death gripped him suddenly, and he realized he was not yet ready to die in his age. He began studying certain magicks, concocting experiments late into every night. His husband grew worried, making him soup and cleaning up after him in the meantime.
One day, the wizard got it. He thrust together some clay, painted runes on its wet surface, and uttered his incantations. The body formed into an exact copy of himself. It had no mind of its own, but he could control it and let it mimic his own personality.
He could send it to the market for groceries, substitute it at boring business meetings, even used it to answer the door when unwanted company came to their house. The wizard felt himself grow feebler and feebler every passing day, until finally his deathbed was here. He wanted to transfer himself into the created body, but in his death throes he couldn't muster the correct enchantments. The husband and the wizard's family mourned him, as he finally died.
A screeching from the wizard's back room made them jump, so a few went to check it out. There they found the body, curled up on the floor, whimpering. It whined, "Please, let me die. Kill me!" before it finally turned to stone, and then dust.--
I remember you used to tell us this story when you wanted to impart onto us kids to keep our noses down and accept reality. Well, that's a bit hard to do here. I've seen some wondrously frightening things. Great big monsters, powerful sorcerers. Perhaps I can draw some sketches and send them sometime.
Please help the others in their research. If anyone can find a hidden cure for Father's disease, you are it.
Careful planning always defeats rushed actions in the end.
Love to you,
Charles Stanhold
Arelith isles
Skal
Skaljard
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Re: Letter Addressed to Stanhold Residence, Waterdeep
Stanhold Residence
Trade Office
Waterdeep
Dear Jakob,
Hello, uncle. I hope to hear from you soon about how the finances are going. I've been well, for the most part. My letters to Fran and Tomas should be arriving as I write this. There is something I wanted to write about to you, specifically. I know that you had to deal with grown bullies, and parochial adults, during your time with the military, so it has been a reoccurring theme here in the isles.
Since I was adopted into the family, I know quite well of my difference to the rest of you. Others have always made it known, but the family has always been warm and welcoming for me. It is why I wear the family name with pride and honor. However, not all that are afflicted as I am have this benefit of a supportive family.
One that is similar to myself, albeit much more inundated with the characteristics of the unwanted side of his heritage, approached me and asked to join his "tribe." I told him I had a family, but I was supportive of his efforts to begin a family. Earlier in the day an elf woman had been shown a sort of punishment for supposedly "stealing" from a merchant stall -- the license for which had run out, while the previous vendor had forgotten to collect her stuff from it. The previous vendor almost obliterated the elf's body with a single touch, but she was shown life again by the local priest's efforts. The one beginning a tribe told me that the woman had shown such violence because of the elf's affiliation with me, as we had journeyed together just moments before the altercation.
He waxed on about the need for our peoples' solidarity and the such, how we can never trust others who would ultimately see us as monsters. And it hit a chord within me. I felt strongly in the moment. A group of people like me, together, taking a stand and making our power known. But does this mean I would have to betray the family I hold dear to my heart?
This past week another man attempted to pick a fight, to insult me and call me fat. I was making light conversation about the weather -- it is so dreadfully cold here, and snowy! -- and he made fun of the fact that I was so big yet still cold. I largely did not play to his invitation. He left and I continued eating my breakfast. I expect this bigotry to only increase in magnitude the longer I live on this great world, so I must deal with it.
Your thoughts are appreciated -- please don't worry the others with this, you're the one I can trust in this.
Be fair and diligent.
My love,
Charles Stanhold
Arelish isles
Skal
Skaljard
Trade Office
Waterdeep
Dear Jakob,
Hello, uncle. I hope to hear from you soon about how the finances are going. I've been well, for the most part. My letters to Fran and Tomas should be arriving as I write this. There is something I wanted to write about to you, specifically. I know that you had to deal with grown bullies, and parochial adults, during your time with the military, so it has been a reoccurring theme here in the isles.
Since I was adopted into the family, I know quite well of my difference to the rest of you. Others have always made it known, but the family has always been warm and welcoming for me. It is why I wear the family name with pride and honor. However, not all that are afflicted as I am have this benefit of a supportive family.
One that is similar to myself, albeit much more inundated with the characteristics of the unwanted side of his heritage, approached me and asked to join his "tribe." I told him I had a family, but I was supportive of his efforts to begin a family. Earlier in the day an elf woman had been shown a sort of punishment for supposedly "stealing" from a merchant stall -- the license for which had run out, while the previous vendor had forgotten to collect her stuff from it. The previous vendor almost obliterated the elf's body with a single touch, but she was shown life again by the local priest's efforts. The one beginning a tribe told me that the woman had shown such violence because of the elf's affiliation with me, as we had journeyed together just moments before the altercation.
He waxed on about the need for our peoples' solidarity and the such, how we can never trust others who would ultimately see us as monsters. And it hit a chord within me. I felt strongly in the moment. A group of people like me, together, taking a stand and making our power known. But does this mean I would have to betray the family I hold dear to my heart?
This past week another man attempted to pick a fight, to insult me and call me fat. I was making light conversation about the weather -- it is so dreadfully cold here, and snowy! -- and he made fun of the fact that I was so big yet still cold. I largely did not play to his invitation. He left and I continued eating my breakfast. I expect this bigotry to only increase in magnitude the longer I live on this great world, so I must deal with it.
Your thoughts are appreciated -- please don't worry the others with this, you're the one I can trust in this.
Be fair and diligent.
My love,
Charles Stanhold
Arelish isles
Skal
Skaljard