2970, Autumn
Dear Sister,
I dearly hope you’ve had a bountiful Autumn. The weather here has started to chill and a day does not go by that I do not think of warming my heart your impeccable brews. There are thoughts that the snow will come early this year, so I now rush to write you before the post is frozen. I currently occupy a small room in the Halls of Harmlet, and it is here that I intend to endure the fast approaching winter.
My host, Pomma, was the scholar of principal interest in my coming to these Halls, as you undoubtedly remember. 13 years my senior, but possessing a youthful and adventurous esprit, I eventually located Pomma within a small study. Glasses covered in dust and soot, she pushed her nose from the tome on the table to greet me. She was very excited, for a strider looking for answers must be in possession of a mystery unique and alluring.
But alas, the mystery proved too elusive for my host. She possessed some ability to translate the ancient texts, but to comprehend in full their meaning was beyond her current abilities. You see, she had studied, or should I rather put it, is studying under the old lore-master Hjolin. It was Hjolin who initially instructed her on these old runes, hoping that she would be able to assist him in some great and secret quest. As the years passed by, Pomma recounted to me, Hjolin deeper air of reticence, sometimes disappearing for weeks at a time. Upon his return, he would provide no answers and make no statements for his disappearances. As Pomma’s instructor descended deeper into some unknown fissure, her mentoring grew erratic and she eventually committed herself to a different area of study regarding relic maps.
It was, however, that Pomma’s spirit would not allow the lore-master’s detached state sway her away from asking for council on my matters. As part of a clever scheme, quality pipe weed was acquired, intended as a gift to Hjolin, which would hopefully keep the old dwarf engaged in our conversation. It worked!
We approached Hjolin in his study the following evening after supper. The circular study was poorly lit aside from a lantern and dust lay thickly over nearly every surface that wasn’t the desk and chair in the center of the room. The study was ringed by numerous bookshelves hidden beneath long, thick curtains to obscure their contents. Oh, how I wish I could know what volumes reside behind those burgundy shrouds! A large supper had left Hjolin in a more pliable state. As he greeted Pomma and myself, I could hardly see his eyes behind dirty spectacles.
He inquired who I was and I replied with the gift of pipe weed and my story to this point. With lit pipes, I presented him with the silver bar which I had found. He snatched it from my grasp, hobbled into the chair beside the lantern lit desk, and examined it closely. For the entire time that he examined that piece, Hjolin never spoke a word. But he did not need to. As he puffed upon his pipe, an eldritch air in the room formed his thoughts in the smoke! I have no explanation for this trick other than the extreme concentration of timeworn and mystic tomes. The smoke waft about, forming words and pictures that were clearing in the mind of Hjolin. Too busy wrapped up in the bar before him, only Pomma and I noticed this magic, and only Pomma recognized the names of the books which the smoke relayed.
Upon completion of Hjolin’s study of the silver bar, he simply returned it to me with a long, low sigh. He claimed that it would require further study to unlock the mysteries of the bar, but our insight could detect his dishonesty. However, we did not press the matter, for we did not wish to arouse the ire of possibly the only being who could help crack the ancestral codes.
Soon after, we left Hjolin to his own devices and retired back to my host’s accommodations. It was then we discussed the events that took place in that curtain lined study. You can imagine my surprise, though not so much after spending more time with her, when Pomma started to shape a plan to liberate the books that the room’s magic had clearly shown us. Fortunately, this plan would never need to be put into action, as the next morning Hjolin was nowhere to be found. Without their master around to guard them, Pomma confidently strolled into the lore-master’s study and grabbed the three books from behind their dusty curtains.
We spent the next week reviewing these texts, only stopping for meals. What we uncovered during this study was that the silver bars were from an ancient dwarven mine, further north up the Blue Mountains. At one point in time, there had been a strong presence of our ancestors there, but some shadowy force had exiled them from their mountain home. This had fascinated us, and the allure of further secrets deep in these mines burned white hot. Once it became apparent that our desire to reach this ancient mine had reached a point of no return we decided to plot and prepare for the journey.
As part of these preparations, it was concluded that we should reach out for financing of such a perilous endeavor. The principal person we pursued in this effort was the master of the great Hall of Harmelt, Mjolin. Elder brother to Hjolin, Mjolin was much more approachable and receptive to us. We had caught him examining the Hall’s ancient golden metal works which adorn the great hall proper. He seemed displeased at them though, then, I could not understand why.
We relayed the story to present and proposed our expedition to the old dwarven mines. I was filled with ire when Mjolin responded that he had just heard the same story, and same proposed expedition, from his brother Hjolin the day prior. Mjolin had apparently denied his brother’s request for fear that his brother may have passed the age of harrowing adventuring. In return, I told of the challenges that I had overcome over the past few seasons to bring this information to light. Mjolin sighed, and stated that, if there were any chance of saving this great Hall, Pomma and myself were currently offered the best opportunity. He accepted our proposal!
Now we wait for winter to come and go. Over the winter we will study, train, and acquire the requisite gear for the treacherous journey North. I will send another letter prior to our departure, once the thaw starts to begin.
Affectionately,
Rori
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