Very few know that Hleag Woulvenskald was not actually an Eretejvan tribesman but a foreign born warrior named Roth Skalden who came to Eretejva to gain control of the northern tribes, both hill and fjord-born.
- Knuren Hallenson, historian, Laten Historical society, in patronage, beneath the Crown,

Hleag, the hero, | hikes through frost.
His banner, | high in hand.
He, the warlord, | hounds over tundra.
His sword, | silver wings in snow.

Svalhjarrad’s tribe, | stands in strength.
Hleag’s forces, | fierce and fell.
Swords sing, | spears pierce.
Blood flows, | bodies fall.

Hleag, great killer, | claims the tribe.
His glory, | grows great and grand.
Hleag, the mighty, | master of tundra.
His tale sings, | south on summer's tide.

- from The Song of Hleag

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<translated from the K'i'ik'el lang.>
To Bold Lord Roth Skalden from Magus Axeus Londir

To thine, the blood of greatness. Lord Skalden, I must return to the matter of the subjects. Mine great workes proceed. Across these many yeares I have created this, the Crobhear Labratorium. The workes of humors is done, the threads of the black ritual are revealed. Remaining only is the finall step. And so, as true to thine own speaking upon our pact, I await the subjects, blooded K'i'ik'el for the transformation. And from our efforts, we will produce healers, those who might lift us each from our distant blood, purifey us toward our great ancestor until we are as true in vein and clarett as he who first struck the dark bargain. I await contribution from thine own clan.

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To Ovanos Dornheim From Axeus Londir

Stop capturing dwarves or hillmen. We have no more need for their blood or flesh. Pass this along to the other capture teams. No more dwarves or hillmen. The last thing we need is more attention.

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To Justice Sharuzuk, Hill Route From Lake Reeve Duranstrom

Did track down the missing herders as discussed.
Found a labratory of much strangeness
Struggled for control of the site and did prevail at some cost on both sides.
Discovered captives, whom we did free
Will send a list of names and descriptions
Will use Sibhagne Village for treatment and questioning

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From Lannier Vex To Aspirant Lauris Antheus, shieldbearer of the flame

I remember being naked and marked, dragged away to a thatch hut hive of dwarves and men. And in time coming to understand my function in the wheels of being.

Oh how they swooned and fawned. They came to love me. All of us really. But I had to leave them to the tender greedy hands of those who remained; and so found you beneath your eldyr willow tree, asleep in all the metal of a knight sworn. Dearest, you were the very best of the world even if I did bend you.

I am in Alliria now and I have found a lovely young man, a boy really. The rest I leave to founder, to wasted away in their alleys and stinking cots. But this one I will feed like a flower and leave him to remember me to this place.

We are all so new, we altered Skalden progeny. None of our promise blooming as desired, but like anything burst from a seed, a thing of its own design, entirely unlike the wishes of our fathers, strange… strange and new.

I will raise the dear boy into his social braies before I leave him here.

What will he do, I wonder? A lone flower left in this perilous soil. If you should visit sniffing for my fading steps, see to him. Let him see how beautiful you will now never cease being.

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To Dame Lauris Antheus

I should begin with an apology.

I was told to write but I have not done so, not until this moment. And I cannot say what is so different about this moment, but only that my grief in his absence is less now than on the day of his leaving two years hence. So, perhaps that sliver allows me to follow his last command, or perhaps I realized that you deserved this letter, united as we are in this ruthless dance.

He assured me that you are knowledgeable and sympathetic to my condition, but such things are not for letters. Still, is is hard to be such a lone ember in all this great city. I am a moth from candle to candle, gifted coins and clothes, caress and quiet all for the solace of my touch. But none of it my own. I am little more than a figment of a dozen desires, a ghost among those who would swallow me like wine.

I do not know where he has gone or even his plans in leaving. He asked me to tell you that. I am sorry if it is cruel. He was often cruel to me as well. That I miss even this bit of his company seems a great flaw in my thinking, but there it is all the same.

I will try to continue to write you, unless you should advise me to disturb you no more.

To Lost Embers and Ghosts of Wine
Kalherron Vex
lt. of Alliria

iniquitous inquiries