An unexpected letter
Posted: Sat Jan 15, 2022 1:33 pm
Eofor lounged in the shade. As long as he didn’t move the room felt cool but he knew if he opened the shutters the shimmering waves of heat rolling off the sand hills in the distance would ruin that illusion.
He hated this place, the heat and it’s customs, the dishonest nature of the people, he hated the poverty and the squalor, he hated the stinking great Mûmakil and above all he hated that he was stuck here in this interminable season of misery.
He had travelled here seeking information, but the locals all looked at him with mistrust and a scant regard and so that mission had stalled. Then to make matters worse word had come down that there was some plague abroad, a wasting sickness and that the cities had all closed their gates.
He had tried to leave immediately then, to make a run for home but the local innkeeper had at least warmed to him enough to explain that the local authorities would be patrolling looking for curfew breakers ‘And what will you do friend? Take to the hills? You wouldn’t last a day without knowing where to find water’
The simple truth of that statement had hammered home the situation and so he had stayed in the inn, his supply of coin dwindling while the invisible enemy besieged the town.
A strange lethargy had then descended on his days, one he had never felt before. He had taken to lying in bed during the heat of the day and even to get up sometimes was an effort. He was ashamed of this cycle but had neither the energy or will to break it. As he lay there berating himself a knock sounded at the door and the break in his daily monotony was enough to rally his spirits enough to sit up and take stock. The room was clean and neat but felt like a prison and the abandoned writing on the desk seemed to mock him.
The knock sounded again and drawing a knife he walked to it and opened it a crack seeing nothing at first until he looked down to where a dwarf stood, not an unusual sight by any means but Eofor knew that there were no dwarves in town which meant this fellow came from…. Outside?!?!
‘Excuse me but might ye be Eofor? Of the Black Tusk?’ the dwarf asked.
‘I am indeed!’ Eofor puffed his chest out, ‘and who might you be master Dwarf?’
‘Marek of Tindun, traveling merchant at your service’ the dwarf swept his hood off in a low bow.
‘Eofor of Rohan at yours and your family’s’
‘I will need to see a token first….’ The dwarf hesitated until Eofor retrieved and held forth his spear, a famous weapon and asked ‘ will this do?’
‘Indeed it will, I was asked to give ye this oh Horse Master’ The dwarf held out a small package tied with string, ‘along with these words from the North - you are sorely missed.’
Eofor took the package, turning it over in his hands feeling the malaise of the past few months war within him against some new feeling. It would be so easy to just lay down again and look at the thing in the morning, to dismiss this pesky dwarf…
In the end the unknown feeling won and he ripped open the package, it’s soft contents fell to the floor but he ignored them unfolding the letter…..
Friend Eofor......
Fortunately.I.know.better.than.to.go.anywhere.near.the.raven's.wing.with.items.of.value.in.my.possession......
Besides.your.letter.was.easily.an.entertaining.enough.read.to.be.worth.both.my.gift.and.the.loss.of.the.original.mattock......
The simple letter awoke something inside of him and he began to laugh long and hard. He had expected some grave missive or bad news but what he held was a simple thank you between two friends that had somehow crossed half the world through a plague.
‘Master Dwarf?’ He said while scooping up the small leather items that had fallen to the ground. ‘You got into the city, can you get out?’
The Dwarf grinned ‘we have our ways Master Tusk, all goods in and out for the right price’ He eyed Eofor calculatingly ‘But I'm afraid you're too big’
Eofor smiled as he felt new hope fill him ‘Oh not me, but if you are returning might you carry some messages back for me? I wont be leaving until my work is done’
He hated this place, the heat and it’s customs, the dishonest nature of the people, he hated the poverty and the squalor, he hated the stinking great Mûmakil and above all he hated that he was stuck here in this interminable season of misery.
He had travelled here seeking information, but the locals all looked at him with mistrust and a scant regard and so that mission had stalled. Then to make matters worse word had come down that there was some plague abroad, a wasting sickness and that the cities had all closed their gates.
He had tried to leave immediately then, to make a run for home but the local innkeeper had at least warmed to him enough to explain that the local authorities would be patrolling looking for curfew breakers ‘And what will you do friend? Take to the hills? You wouldn’t last a day without knowing where to find water’
The simple truth of that statement had hammered home the situation and so he had stayed in the inn, his supply of coin dwindling while the invisible enemy besieged the town.
A strange lethargy had then descended on his days, one he had never felt before. He had taken to lying in bed during the heat of the day and even to get up sometimes was an effort. He was ashamed of this cycle but had neither the energy or will to break it. As he lay there berating himself a knock sounded at the door and the break in his daily monotony was enough to rally his spirits enough to sit up and take stock. The room was clean and neat but felt like a prison and the abandoned writing on the desk seemed to mock him.
The knock sounded again and drawing a knife he walked to it and opened it a crack seeing nothing at first until he looked down to where a dwarf stood, not an unusual sight by any means but Eofor knew that there were no dwarves in town which meant this fellow came from…. Outside?!?!
‘Excuse me but might ye be Eofor? Of the Black Tusk?’ the dwarf asked.
‘I am indeed!’ Eofor puffed his chest out, ‘and who might you be master Dwarf?’
‘Marek of Tindun, traveling merchant at your service’ the dwarf swept his hood off in a low bow.
‘Eofor of Rohan at yours and your family’s’
‘I will need to see a token first….’ The dwarf hesitated until Eofor retrieved and held forth his spear, a famous weapon and asked ‘ will this do?’
‘Indeed it will, I was asked to give ye this oh Horse Master’ The dwarf held out a small package tied with string, ‘along with these words from the North - you are sorely missed.’
Eofor took the package, turning it over in his hands feeling the malaise of the past few months war within him against some new feeling. It would be so easy to just lay down again and look at the thing in the morning, to dismiss this pesky dwarf…
In the end the unknown feeling won and he ripped open the package, it’s soft contents fell to the floor but he ignored them unfolding the letter…..
Friend Eofor......
Fortunately.I.know.better.than.to.go.anywhere.near.the.raven's.wing.with.items.of.value.in.my.possession......
Besides.your.letter.was.easily.an.entertaining.enough.read.to.be.worth.both.my.gift.and.the.loss.of.the.original.mattock......
The simple letter awoke something inside of him and he began to laugh long and hard. He had expected some grave missive or bad news but what he held was a simple thank you between two friends that had somehow crossed half the world through a plague.
‘Master Dwarf?’ He said while scooping up the small leather items that had fallen to the ground. ‘You got into the city, can you get out?’
The Dwarf grinned ‘we have our ways Master Tusk, all goods in and out for the right price’ He eyed Eofor calculatingly ‘But I'm afraid you're too big’
Eofor smiled as he felt new hope fill him ‘Oh not me, but if you are returning might you carry some messages back for me? I wont be leaving until my work is done’