13th of Ches, the year of the Ageless One, 1375 DR.
The Grapevine Inn and Commons,
Norwick, Narfell
To:
Master Bors Dorune
Stall #27, Traders Camp, City of Trailsend
Duchy of Polten, Damara
Greetings once again cousin.
It has been a little over 3 months since my last missive, and I have much to report to you. I hope all is well with our stall in Trailsend, and that you are still doing enough business, even if it be lowly blacksmith work, to live comfortably. For myself, I still try to save every gold, copper and glass bead I come by to buy us a proper shop or stall here in this place, but so far I am a long way still from our goal.
I have taken up residence in the local inn here in Norwick, the Grapevine it is called, and it is a apt name as much gossip and hear-say can be heard within its walls. But the rooms are comfortable and not overly priced, plus there is a ready supply of beer and vittles down in the tap room! The keeper has even worked out a lower weekly rate with me, due to my extended patronage.
I have spent my time since my last letter to you attempting to make money for our goals. Some of these endeavors have paid off and some have not been so profitable. My good friend Avishual, cleric of Tempus and I went on an trek to a city of the Underdark near to Peltarch, known as Oscura. It is very similar to most of the cities of the underhalls that we know of near to Adbar, with its dark tight streets and colorful cast of inhabitants. On our way back to the surface we ran afoul of some Fish creatures, Koa-toa I believe they were called, but do not ask me to spell it correctly. We tracked the creatures to their layer were we found a horrible site! Mass slaughter of two dozen or more of the things! It was the work of some terror from below, a creature called a Cloaker, which I had never heard tell of before. Knowing we had met our match and more, we quickly retreated and went to the commons in Peltarch to seek the aid of any who would follow us. We meant to try to destroy the creature before it waylaid any travelers on their way to Oscura. Luckily we managed to gather a group of stout hearted folk and return to the scene of the Fish Men's slaughter. It was a hard fight and the creature was both cunning and magically crafty, but with our extra numbers we bested it.
Soon after, I accompanied an expedition to the west of Peltarch, two months ago to try to route out a gang of Gnoll thugs, unfortunately this adventure proved more than my skill, and I was grievously wounded by a Huge Gnoll Warrior wielding some fell enchanted blade. I would have died, and indeed while I lay bleeding to death on the forest floor, I thought I saw Gorm's Hall's, but as his will would have it, one of our company was able to heal me enough to get me to Peltarch. There I laid abed for many weeks while my strength slowly returned.
Once I was on my feet again back in Norwick, I decided to wander to the south gate of the town one evening for a pipe. Little did I know what kind of an evening I was in for! I met a kind fellow by the name of Thorn, one of the "right sized folk", we got to talking about the weather and trade and such, very pleasant. Then he started to tell me about how Norwick has been under siege recently by forces from the south out of the Rawlinswood. This came as a surprise to me, and indeed I had not mentioned anything of this kind of trouble in my last letter as I had never seen hide, nor hair of any attacks on the town itself for the months I have been here.
Just then all hells broke loose. There was an attack, right in the middle of my pipe don't you know! It was bad, reminded me of the stories of the siege of Obald on Adbar, like your father and my dad would often tell us. It went on all night, wave after wave. Luckily I managed to last the night, along with the other stalwart souls of the town, and the militia and scouts. Since that day I have been in two other attempts to take the gate.
One occurred just under a week ago today. It was the worst fight I have ever been in, and I thank Gorm I am here to write to you now. A huge army of Bugbears took the gate, there were many casters and such with them, the air smelled of ozone, and brimstone from all the foul magics being hurled about. We had to fall back into the town itself. But Gorm was with us, as the head of the defenses, Cecil Northman his name is, devised a plan to flank those enemies at the gate while a main force attacked from the town, classic Hammer and Anvil, a good dwarven tactic if I do say so myself. It worked, and we retook the gates, but we lost many defenders in the fight, four I know of personally, and of that 2 close friends. But thank the gods for small miracles, and the healers at the temple were able to revive the souls of my two close friends, Ardent a scout of the town, and Sir Ky a worthy holy warrior of Tyr. They walk again, praise be.
With these renewed attacks on the village of Norwick, we may have to reconsider setting up shop here. Or it maybe just like the Silverymarches all over again, making weapons for a never ending war. I will write to you again should there be a turning point in this conflict, or if I manage to find something better and affordable in Peltarch. But my time for searching for a shop is limited now, as I spend all my free hours assisting the militia with patrols and guard mounts on the south gate, I am even thinking of possibly volunteering for the militia. Not sure why I would do a damn fool thing like that, maybe because this mud hole of a town is the only place that has felt like a home to me since we left Adbar.
Be well cousin, till I can write you again.
Boldbar Dorune.
