[Western] Gothic Wars - Letters

[HE Kainin Tepesa]

Greetings unto my western kinsman,

The time draws ever closer to the chosen day when we
will meet the cur Ruspoli on the field of war. Even
now this villainous black dog nips at the heels of my
lands and tries to goad me into an early conflict. I
am including a letter I received from my herald (see
below), who lives near the border of Bonwicke's lands.
I beseech you to come to the lake, near the village of
Sweet Water, on the second day of September and join
with me as we crush this vile upstart and bring peace
back to these lands.

In service to Christ and Crown,
Kainin Tepesa
Baron of Bonwicke


------------------------------------
Pray heed me, my liege,
Ê
I know not if this missive shall reach thee, for the
skirmishing along our borders has intensified greatly
over the past few nights. 'Twas but a short time past
that I wrote to thee of the incursions against my
estates, but so much has happened that the lands of my
home have been forever altered. I look upon a surreal
landscape of pain each morning, and the hellish orange
glow of crop fires lightens the night sky at dusk.
Ê
Raiders in black have continued their assault upon the
villagers herein with damnable efficacy. Your skilled
guard have proven effective at repelling them from
striking deeper into the domains of Bonwicke so far,
and for this we are grateful, but the toll from this
wily fox and his cunning dogs is rising. Galen and I
are at the sheer limit of our resources.
Ê
Each day a black-fletched arrow finds itself embedded
in the wall of my drawing room, and bears the same
dire tidings. 
Ê
ÒDeath to Kainin! Death to the pretender!Ó 
Ê
It is a portentous choice of words is it not?
Ê
I suppose I should be grateful these missives are not
standing out from my own chest in this case, but there
is little comfort in that as I see the soot besmudged
faces of my servants and serfs following each nightÕs
attack.
Ê
Though to speak such comes perilously close to
treachery your Excellency, I cannot deny the soundness
of this curÕs tactics. He comes in the night
unheralded, finding gaps in my defenses I have missed,
and like a vengeful spirit fades with the dawn light.
His men fight like demons and yet there is a curious
honor in their slayings. None of my unarmed serfs have
been slain, but the toll on my personal guard has been
staggering.
Ê
My memory harkens back to the days predating your
investiture, when we in our mercenary guise did strike
at enemies in foreign lands similarly before an
invasion. This Captain seems a well-traveled man of
letters not unlike yourself my Baron. These are not
the undisciplined brigands I had expected, but rather
battle hardened warriors and veterans of successful
campaigns too long at rest. 
Ê
His hatred of you seems rather personalÉis it possible
that you may have known this man in your shadowed
past? Could he be an enemy of old who has returned to
claim revenge against you? When his cowl of darkness
is lifted, whose face shall you look upon? I had hoped
that with the love of your Baroness and the duty of
your coronet we might have at long last found peace
from our bloodstained travels, but there is no rest.
Ê
I urge you not to take this manÕs bait and ride out
against him before the appointed time my old friend.
Away from the cover of night, and the chaos of burning
fields, I think RuspoliÕs match may be far more even;
but when men of honor fight men who have none, on
their own ground, it is a sad testament to the devilÕs
amusement that they must surely fall. Take him afield
on the open lands to the east and I believe his might
will be broken. To do otherwise should surely see the
ladies of Bonwicke clad in nightÕs veils as the
funeral criers drown their wails in deathÕs litany.
You know this, I am certain, but I would be a poor
advisor not to voice my concerns against your temper
in this case.
Ê
My mind wanders my liege, and perhaps it is a lack of
rest that leads me down such a twisted path, but if by
fate Galen and I should not survive these raids to
join you upon the battlefield when at last these
forces of light and darkness clash in righteous fire,
then know our ghosts will stand beside you unto the
bloody culmination.
Ê
In grim determination,
Lord Tristan Hawkridge


		
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