A Letter to a Noble Crusader
Item · 65 gp · Weight 0
"I hope this letter finds you in good health, Sir Willam. I see now, with great sadness, that you have quite forgotten and abandoned us. It's been three years since you visited your native lands, and your father at your family crypt. Last summer some passers-by broke the lock on it and spent the night inside. As steward, I installed a new lock and cleaned up all the wreckage. Your servant who went missing, whom you inquired after in your previous letter, has indeed been seen but at present his precise whereabouts are unknown. He came to us, looked at us with contempt, said something through his teeth, gathered taxes for you, ate a whole goose for free at the tavern, jumped on his horse, and galloped off. If he went missing somewhere on the road, we wouldn't know anything about it. It's been a complete disaster here, even without missing strangers to account for. Seven days ago, all cows gave black milk. And the milkman, who tasted it out of drunken stupidity, died in the pain of twisted bowels. There is something wrong with the spring. The water stinks of rotten eggs, and the cattle won't drink it. Besides, some scoundrel threw some dead dogs into the closest well, the one on the crossroads, so we've filled it with soil. I expect the demons are giving us trouble any way they can. Our cattle are dying of thirst. Children are going missing in your protected forest. The woodcutters saw some scarecrows which they swore were alive. They spoke of angry faces and bared teeth. They were afraid to get too close, and watched them from afar. Frightening things are going on in the woods. I fear that witches and demons have settled in your protected forest, to do their wicked mischief. They are probably the ones who picked the bones of your servant who's gone missing. And you ask us, as if you suspect us of being involved. As if we could kill and rob an honest man. It's upsetting, Sir Willam. We never touched your servant, and if we did, he was a wretched man, smug and nasty. And we have no food or water, and our children are going missing. Instead of serving your Lady Galfrey, you should be home defending us, and bringing us food. You must have some gold, lord that you are. There is no one to protect us besides you. The city lads only come to find new recruits and take our gold. They don't have the authority to do anything more. And the send-off we give our lads and lasses they take — the whole village comes to say farewell, just like it's a funeral. None of them have returned home to the village yet. We are dying. So I'll tell you the honest truth, Sir Willam, we cannot live like that any more, but we cannot die in such terrible conditions either. So we agreed with our neighbors to burn down your forest on the next new moon, your protected forest where the dark beasts live. We'll surround it, set it on fire from all sides, and hire a wizard to steer the wind. We won't be put off just because the forest is protected, or because no one may shoot game there or enter therein, or cut down its trees. Of course you'll be very angry at us for burning down your family forest. Because we've already been cutting its wood and shooting game there, for there is nothing else to eat and no other wood. We won't let the forest beasts steal our children. If you wish, come and execute me, execute all of us, but we won't put up with this any more. That's that! Respectfully, the steward of Viksola village, To Lord Sir Willam"