Jasmine - Letters Home

  • The following are a collection of letters written by Jasmine to her parents.

  • Dear mother and father,

    I have shed more blood in these past few weeks than all the past few years combined. The city farmers are plagued with kobolds that raid their stores and gardens. I’ve slain many, though it astounds me the coins each of them has. It’s almost as if there were a large hoard buried somewhere, and they had divided it amongst their countless numbers.

    I’ve had the honor of traveling a few times with Erurk the Mighty, a large half orc with a large blade able to slay giants. He’s on quest to rid the city of its giant foes to prove his worth as a potential member of the King’s Guard. Although my assistance was meager, the honor to aid such a worthy man is great.

    And finally, it’s with no small measure of pride that I announce to you that I was accepted into the city guard. I put in my application with references from House Byron, and after short stint to assess my martial skills, I was accepted. I meet at their headquarters in the next ten day to receive my equipment and orders.
    Please give thanks to grandfather for his encouragement he offered me and the training he arranged with master Ty. I will be forever grateful.

    Duty, service and honor!



  • Dear mother and father,

    I arrived safely in the Narfell region a few days ago. My trip north was largely uneventful. We had a small problem with pixies that was more laughable than a problem, but the poor man who was briefly turned into a pig likely thought otherwise.

    I’ve settled into an inn called the Dancing Mermaid. It sits roughly in the center of the very small city of Peltarch, a monarchy run city state.

    I had hoped to meet up with the Silver Host, but I learned they had disbanded, torn apart by betrayal and deceit. However, this land seems to be full of colorful characters, and I’m sure I’ll find steady work soon. Rumor has it the city is looking for additional soldiers and guards due to some kind of civil strife.

    I helped a group venture into a cave to slay a Yuan-Ti warlock. It was less of a group and more of a one man show, that man being blade singer bearing a fancy blade and uncommon skill. The mission was successful and there were various artifacts recovered, amongst them a bladed staff bearing druidic runes of Auril. We drew lots, and a half orc by the name of Hirk claimed it. I must have worn my disappointment on my sleeve, because he tossed it to me. Incredulous, I asked him why. He replied that the strength of the horde was important, and I had obviously trained with it because I used one.

    I owe this man a debt, which I shall have to figure out how to repay. I’ve known men to kill for artifacts of this caliber.