The Letter Never Sent (Thanks, Emmelina)

She crumples the parchment, ink drips falling onto the tabletop. Again, she writes...
She crumples the parchment. Ink drops fall from the tip of the quill. Again, she writes…

A sheepish looking young woman ambles up to Morty as he stands somewhere obvious in Bree. 

“Ya Morty Mossfoot? Ye fit the description she gave me.” She hands him a folded letter sealed with a generic tab of wax. “My apologies I forgot to find ya sooner. Lady bid me give this t’ya.” Without waiting for a reply, she turns and slinks away, hands shoved into the pockets of her tight britches.

It reads:

Dear Morty,

Dear Mr. Mossfoot,

Dear Mr. Morty Mossfoot,

I would like to extend my sincerest thanks to you for escorting me through the Chetwood last night. I do hope I did not do anything to further embarrass myself, though I do not doubt that I have sullied our friendship by my foolish actions. I hope you forgive me for dragging you out there.

It seems I have caught a chill from my stupidity as I was informed by a woman named Laerlin that a night’s drinking should not cause a fever, though I did not realize I had one until Miss Teiblanc brought it up. (I know what you are going to say about Elves.) Did I have my cloak about me? I seem to have misplaced it. Luckily, Miss Laerlin was kind enough to offer her medicinal services and brewed me a strong tea. Miss Teiblanc was willing to cover the expense. I do not like living on charity, Morty. Though I learned Mr. Falros is not much better off than me. He mentioned being cleaned out when he was away for an extended period of time. Can you imagine – fighting brigands all your life and then coming home to find you are a victim of them? It seems terribly unfair.

I cannot seem to write a letter that is not at least two pages long, so before I get off on another topic,  I will sign and see if a roommate could take this to the post.  I’m not sure I have it in me to take it myself.

Regards,

Anyatka

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