Chapter IX
Squire Jasmine Writes Home
Dear Ma,
Work as a squire is going well. As Master Thane says, “We just deliver pieces of paper.”
Admittedly this delivering of writs has allowed me to see some almost all of the cities in the Jade Forest. I walked the musty halls of Deeproot, spent the night in the Oath Keep, eaten till I was stuffed in the Hightree Shire and walked the cobblestone streets of Ladymist, or as the locals call it, the Lady.
Of all of them, the Lady is my favorite. It is everything I thought being away from home would be, magical, mysterious and so very old.
Lady M’Randa is a kind mistress and serving her remains an honor that I work hard to live up to.
Tell my brother to work hard and you send word that he is coming along well I will bring him a special treat from the streets of the blessed Lady.
All my love,
Squire Jasmine Smith
Dear Widow,
In armor, with a sword on my hip and a shield strapped to my back it is impossible to forget that I am Squire Jasmine Smith. It is all of those days in between, wearing nothing but cotton breeches and a tabard when I feel like a small-town girl with mannish shoulders who has never been kissed.
Master Thane says, “We just deliver pieces of paper,” but he is just making light of our perilous lives. Adventuring with Hobbits means that a lot of time is spent merry making and eating, keeping thoughts of death at bay.
Your staff remains in my care and is a treasure. It reminds me not only of my humble roots but also that others have left home before me. Suddenly, I feel that I am a part of a great tradition, a secret society of sorts.
As a fellow society member it is my duty to tell you how I have put your staff to use. I killed my first living man less than a fortnight ago. I put a few ghouls to the sword but killing them didn’t feel like anything horrid. They were demons of a sort and deserved to be sent on.
I killed an Orc. They ambushed us in the morning as we left the Lady. It was one of those glorious mornings, birds were just singing and the sky was just becoming blue. The cowards hit us with crossbow bolts from rooftops and one hit Lady M’Randa so hard that I am not sure how she remained on her feet. If being a knight means that one must stand fast through pain like that then I will remain a Squire for some time yet.
The Orcs were part of a city gang called the Nightfangs; foot-soldiers charged m’lady from both sides. I swung your staff like a hand and a half sword. The fool wasn’t wearing a helm and his skull made a noise like wet wood giving in to a dull axe.
Oddly, I expected the bastard to get up and continue fighting but that didn’t happen. While Lady M’Randa explained the situation to the Watch, I piled the bodies, as was my duty. Seems like a brutish use for your fine apprentice's staff.
There are other situations I have been witness to from the dungeons of Deeproot to the Wedding Highway to the Orcish ghettos of the Lady.
If I should die, please try and explain to my mother that these past months have included more magic and life than all of the years before.
Yours,
Squire Jasmine Smith
Squire Jasmine Writes Home
Dear Ma,
Work as a squire is going well. As Master Thane says, “We just deliver pieces of paper.”
Admittedly this delivering of writs has allowed me to see some almost all of the cities in the Jade Forest. I walked the musty halls of Deeproot, spent the night in the Oath Keep, eaten till I was stuffed in the Hightree Shire and walked the cobblestone streets of Ladymist, or as the locals call it, the Lady.
Of all of them, the Lady is my favorite. It is everything I thought being away from home would be, magical, mysterious and so very old.
Lady M’Randa is a kind mistress and serving her remains an honor that I work hard to live up to.
Tell my brother to work hard and you send word that he is coming along well I will bring him a special treat from the streets of the blessed Lady.
All my love,
Squire Jasmine Smith
Dear Widow,
In armor, with a sword on my hip and a shield strapped to my back it is impossible to forget that I am Squire Jasmine Smith. It is all of those days in between, wearing nothing but cotton breeches and a tabard when I feel like a small-town girl with mannish shoulders who has never been kissed.
Master Thane says, “We just deliver pieces of paper,” but he is just making light of our perilous lives. Adventuring with Hobbits means that a lot of time is spent merry making and eating, keeping thoughts of death at bay.
Your staff remains in my care and is a treasure. It reminds me not only of my humble roots but also that others have left home before me. Suddenly, I feel that I am a part of a great tradition, a secret society of sorts.
As a fellow society member it is my duty to tell you how I have put your staff to use. I killed my first living man less than a fortnight ago. I put a few ghouls to the sword but killing them didn’t feel like anything horrid. They were demons of a sort and deserved to be sent on.
I killed an Orc. They ambushed us in the morning as we left the Lady. It was one of those glorious mornings, birds were just singing and the sky was just becoming blue. The cowards hit us with crossbow bolts from rooftops and one hit Lady M’Randa so hard that I am not sure how she remained on her feet. If being a knight means that one must stand fast through pain like that then I will remain a Squire for some time yet.
The Orcs were part of a city gang called the Nightfangs; foot-soldiers charged m’lady from both sides. I swung your staff like a hand and a half sword. The fool wasn’t wearing a helm and his skull made a noise like wet wood giving in to a dull axe.
Oddly, I expected the bastard to get up and continue fighting but that didn’t happen. While Lady M’Randa explained the situation to the Watch, I piled the bodies, as was my duty. Seems like a brutish use for your fine apprentice's staff.
There are other situations I have been witness to from the dungeons of Deeproot to the Wedding Highway to the Orcish ghettos of the Lady.
If I should die, please try and explain to my mother that these past months have included more magic and life than all of the years before.
Yours,
Squire Jasmine Smith