Letters From the West: Rumors of Evil Trees

Dearest Bria –

I find the world an uneasy place as I write to you this evening. It has been many weeks since Borowolf and I have returned from the frigid land of Wildermore. As we plan to cross the Entwash (at great peril to our lives) to once again engage the darkness that threatens all the land, whispers and rumors alight upon our ears. It is extremely difficult to ascertain the source of these hints of doom, as the content is very slight. It’s as if a vapor materialises, and vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

We have heard that at the time we plan to make our  move into West Rohan, the enemy shall use his power of lies and confusion to sap us of our skill in battle. Rumors of difficult choices and inability to recall our specialties plague us and our allies. Captains and masters of lore alike fear that their flexibility in battle will be greatly hindered by this supposed curse. Many have threatened to abandon our company should this come to pass, but Borowolf and I remain steadfast in our desire to free these lands. Could this darkness be the same magic that is said to have poisoned the mind of the King of Rohan? Perhaps we will know soon enough.

I know very little about the wood in the Westemnet, but several who I have encountered seem to fear the trees that await us. I am unsure of the validity of this phobia, however. As I understand it, West Rohan is composed mostly of grassy plains.

Contributing to the general uneasiness within our community is the distinct lack of true information or strategy. I know this has left Borowolf in particular feeling extremely frustrated. A captain without a battle-plan can be very testy. The other day one of our regular message carriers rode into Snowbourn with a scroll that contained nothing but stale information. What’s more, he stopped reading it aloud after a meagre twenty-six seconds and looked up at us as if he expected us to be pleased. It was all I could do to stop Boro from killing the messenger.

One thing is certain, Bria. We stand on the edge of something very large and important. Whether the battles ahead will be truly epic, or the rumored trees will sap us of our skill, will only be revealed with the passage of time. Please be wary. Stories of epic proportion that were once freely told between the good folk of Middle-Earth can now only be had for coin or toils. Should these developments affect the morale of our allies, I fear for the future of our lands.

Do not cry for us, Bria. We have weathered many trials prior to now, and we intend to return from this one as well.

Sincerely,

Braxwolf

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