De Haguns Family/Furiae/The Lady and the Pirate

How Furiae and Haide came to knew each other.

Letter from Furiae de Haguns

Dame Haide Osoro,

I have heard from one of my many friends in Golden Farrow that my former estate in the Stronghold Precint has been taken by you, good dame.

I do not think introductions might be necessary, as you must have heard of me. Yes, I am the Baroness Furiae that so many speak fondly in Golden Farrow.

Not long ago, as I said previously, I used to serve the Royal Duke of Golden Farrow, His Grace Solomon Greybrook as a dame of Golden Farrow. Now I am his vassal as lady of Faithill, a fierce region that lies beneath the Barrow Peaks and watches over the southern border of Tol Goldora.

It always pleases my heart to see another young dame rising up within the nobility of Tol Goldora, either to become knighted or to rule as a lady. Not long ago, we had the young dame Nalaya Everwind arriving from East Continent, or to say more specifically, the Kingdom of Perdan, from where I also come.

Now, I have spoken too much about myself, I am afraid. What about you, dame of Golden Farrow? From where do you come, and what are your plans for Tol Goldora? What do you plan to achieve in these lands?

You have arrived in a most auspicious time, as the marriage between our ruler, the Autarch of Tol Goldora, the Illustrious Lucius Navaar, as well as my friend and commander, the Stratarch Svari Storme, is coming. If not before, should you attend the ceremony, we may meet there.

Should you need anything or have any doubts concerning Tol Goldora, fear not to contact me. And if I may suggest, you may find it useful to send a letter to the nobles of the realm to introduce yourself. Just beware of writing it yourself, I have found that ink is terrible for the hands, and therefore I only dictate them so my scribes will write them in my stead.

Yours truly, and carried by the winds,

Furiae de Haguns

Baroness of Faithill

Marshal of the Gylden Expeditionary Legion

Letter from Haide Osoro

Baroness Furiae,

It is good to meet the force behind the name. I was visiting with locals earlier this morning and heard mention in passing of a fiery brunette who once looked over the Stronghold Precinct.

From what I've heard of Faithill, it sounds a lovely place to relax. "A sleepy little resting place," I believe it was described. That sounds nice, but truth be told, I fear I would go stir crazy. I am glad the quaint town has a patient warden such as yourself to maintain the peace.

As for what I'm doing in Tol Goldora, time will tell. As a rule of thumb, I am uninterested in the performative nature of politics; I am much more at home on the ship deck or a battlefield than supping around a gilded table, so I naturally find myself drawn to the Order of the Gylden Sword.

Perhaps I will see you at the wedding. I normally don't enjoy such extravagant affairs but free mead is free mead.

It is interesting you should mention ink; I've always rather enjoyed getting my hands dirty.

H.

Roleplay from Furiae de Haguns

Roleplay from Furiae de Haguns

(Personal message to Haide Osoro) The young baroness sat upon a high oaken chair, its back surmounted by cushions and covered in a long linen blanket in Faithill's green and black colours, her chin resting in the palm of her hand. The other hand carried a goblet, and she kept moving it in a repetitive movement, the sweetened red wine whirling lightly inside. She eyed lazily the hearth that kept the halls of the Longhouse warm, the tiny flames dancing before her eyes. It was clear she was bored, and her mind distant. "And with the current levels of consumption of grains, which have been increased with the arrival of the Thunderstorm Guard, m'lady, we should be able to supply the region for..." "Yes, yes, yes, I know. I know, captain Magnus, thank you for reminding me", impatiently, her eyes darted to her loyal captain of the guard, as he reported on the granaries current storage. Furiae knew full well the situation, as winter had been quite rough on the production of her lands, and she had neglected the defenses of the town against monster's incursions, for she had been feasting and fighting at the tournament in Golden Farrow, in honor of the Autarch and the Stratarch's coming wedding. Of course, to this young, up and coming and ambitious foreign noblewoman, mingling with fellow nobles in the tournament grounds, drinking and watching champions fight was more important ways enhance her own reputation and status than coming to the defense of her newly awarded barony. Peasants and food were replaceable, nobles such as her, rare. "So, m'lady, moving to the next subject, this has arrived...", said the stern and study soldier, handing her a letter. "From whom?", asked the baroness, with disinterest. The captain shrugged lightly, but not ashamed. He did not know how to read, as Furiae soon remembered, so she just nodded and opened the letter. The captain knew the teenager too well for the months they had been together ever since leaving the land of lions, Perdan, in the East Continet. Furiae was still a lioness cub, but a lioness nonetheless. Proud, fierce, and easy to catch a slight. He knew when she was upset because, despite her best efforts, the girl's countenance changed slowly, first her jaw becoming rigid, then her eyes frowning. This time was no different, but he knew better than to ask. "This... Dame Haide Osoro, what do we know of her?", asked the baroness, in a cold, unforging tone. "M'lady, nothing at the moment." "So she is a nobody?" "M'lady, I wouldn't say so, she just arrived, but she is a noble and a Dame of Golden Farrow..." and he wanted to point out that Furiae had been a 'nobody' before. There were so many things he wanted to teach this girl, but knew that life would work its way to humble her. After all, she paid him and his soldiers in gold, and very much enjoyed having his head connected to the rest of his body. "Very well, captain", said the Haguns girl, rising from the oaken chair, and covering herself with a long sable cloak to keep her warm. "Bring me ink and a feather, and parchment, I will be at my office." "Should I bring the scribe, m'lady?" "No, captain. Not this time. I shall pen this letter myself."

Furiae de Haguns

Letter from Furiae de Haguns

(this letter's handwriting is clearly different from the last one, which was more formal and simple - instead, it has elegant and elongated words drawn in the parchment, slightly curved, revealing a carefully written and beautiful penmanship)

Dame Haide Osoro,

I am grateful to know that Stronghold Precint still remembers me fondly. There are such rare stars that shine brightly wherever they are or go, bringing grace, beauty and valor that enrich the lives of those so fortunate to serve them. I am glad to know that I have been such a star in Golden Farrow, and I hope you can live to shine as well, and mark your way in the world.

Faithill is certainly a lovely place, and definitely lacks the grandiosity of Golden Farrow. There are some benefits of living a quiet place, my good dame, for one can notice any strangers roaming the countryside or the town. It is unlike the capital, however, whose bustling streets may as well serve as cover to assassins who prowl with malicious intent of harming young and naïve nobles who do not know their place in society and may find themselves targeted for being too quick with their pens, writing before thinking.

I commend your disinterest in politics, for it reveals a good streak of character to know where one can thrive or not. As I have told another young dame of Golden Farrow, some are born and fated to be soldiers, while others are destined to be natural leaders and rulers. My dame, if you know where you stand and belong, I can only congratulate you. One cannot struggle against destiny, but only embrace it.

As you might know, I am the Marshal of the Gylden Expeditionary Legion, by the Stratarch’s grace.

Tol Goldora has two Armies, the prides of Tol Goldora, led by its respective Marshals with the assistance of their Vice-Marshals, under the command of the Stratarch Svari Storme.

One, the Golden Host, is capably led by Marshal Antigone Polytus. It is our main Army, acting as both shield and sword against monsters incursions, undead hordes, and other enemy realms.

The Expeditionary Legion is the second army, which serves as an advanced raiding war party to attack the roguelands, regions where lawlessness or the undead reign, with the objective of looting for treasures and food, for the good of Tol Goldora. We travel by land or sea, and recently ventured deep into the Sapphire Blue, where more recently we faced hordes of monsters in Laraibina.

My good dame, have you ever braved the seas or fought in battles? I would be curious to know of your military experience.

This because I do have experience with getting my hands dirty, but it is not in ink black, and rather blood red. And as you see, acting as Marshal may see me away from Faithill when leading expeditions into the roguelands, so I would need a steward to attend to administrative matters in the region.

If my good dame enjoys getting her hands dirty with ink, as states in the closing of your letter, I could always use a steward to tend to my barony in my absence. It is a very noble and rewarding profession, and extremely important for the wellbeing of the realm. After all, not all can be warriors.

On a final note, I am not a mead person myself. I find it quite rancid in taste, and would rather have wine. It is more refined and pleasant to the noble palate.

Yours truly, and carried by the winds,

Furiae de Haguns

Baroness of Faithill

Marshal of the Gylden Expeditionary Legion

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

(Personal message to Furiae de Haguns) Haide takes a swig from her waterskin. The long march to Mech Alb was trying her (admittedly short) patience, and the further she gets from the sea, the more uneasy she feels. Around her, the gently rolling hills of Farrowfield seem to stretch on forever. Farmlands. Farmlands. More farmlands. The only structures breaking up the monotony are the humble Town of Farrowfield, where her new friend Nalaya resides, and, in the far distance, the Golden Keep. "Made of pure gold." One of her Osos—Eduardo—nudges her gently in the side and nods towards the Keep, a sideways grin splayed across his tanned face. A few other Osos snicker. Haide knows she's young. And, as far as anyone knows, untested in battle. So her infantrymen seem to take satisfaction in giving her a hard time. "Perhaps you can collect your salary from its walls," Haide retorts. That collects a few laughs, and she feels a bit better. She doesn't mind the teasing; there's something comforting about the light jabbing. But deep down, she knows she will have to prove herself soon to keep their respect. Hopefully, an opportunity will present itself in Mech Alb. "A raven," another one of her Osos announces. He collects a tightly rolled letter from the black bird's leg and delivers it to Haide. Finally. Something to stave off this boredom. She peels off the wax seal and shakes out the parchment. The handwriting is stunning, and she knows immediately who was the sender. As she reads, her fingertips find the deep indentations from the quill on the other side of the page. It's a wonder the paper didn't rip clean through. Oops, she thinks to herself with a smirk. 'Perhaps I ruffled some feathers....

Haide Osoro

Letter from Furiae de Haguns

Peers of Tol Goldora,

I am currently in Golden Farrow, but on my way to offer support in Mozyr against the undead. It will take me 25 hours to reach the final destination, if everything goes accordingly. Please let me know is anyone else is coming. my Thunderstorm Guard is a mixed-infantry unit, so may help with ranged attacks.

Yours truly, and carried by the winds,

Furiae de Haguns

Baroness of Faithill

Marshal of the Gylden Expeditionary Legion

Letter from Haide Osoro

(This letter is scrawled in haste.)

Marshal Furiae,

I know I owe you a response from your last letter, but thought it prudent to let you know as soon as possible that I, too, am en route to Mozyr. My best estimate places our arrival sometime tomorrow, about ten hours from this writing.

I have with me my Osos Negros, three-and-twenty infantrymen ready for battle.

May we fight side by side with honor and then celebrate our victories over ale (or wine, if you absolutely must).

Good tides and tidings,

Haide Osoro Dame of Golden Farrow

Letter from Furiae de Haguns

(this letter is also written in haste, with a different penmanship from Furiae's more elaborated one)

Dame Haide Osoro,

I thank you for your missive, so I may have an idea on who else is moving to support Mozyr.

Is the Golden Host moving with you from Mech Derris? Are you going all by yourself, with your Osos Negros, to fight the undead?

Unfortunately, I believe you may arrive earlier than me to fight the hordes. Beware of the monsters and undead, they are not just simple creatures or piles of bones. I have learned this the hard way in my life.

If you find overwhelming odds, do not hesitate to fall back to Farrowfield and wait for support.

I praise you for your efforts and eagerness to go into battle, and wish you good luck. May the Tidemother shield you from the Void Gods and their unfoul creatures.

Yours truly, and carried by the winds,

Furiae de Haguns

Baroness of Faithill

Marshal of the Gylden Expeditionary Legion

Letter from Haide Osoro

(this letter is written with a shaky hand, as if the author were nervous...... but of course that's not possible)

Marshal Furiae,

Nay, the Osos Negros and I move alone as far as I know. We were in Mech Alb when word arrived of undead hordes terrorizing peasants in Mozyr and we departed at once.

I've received reports that suggest Ser Lamidithous and Dame Ivanka are also traveling through Mech Derris. But I do not know if either party has given word that they are en route to Mozyr. One can only hope those are their intentions.

We will proceed with caution.

May the Tidemother's winds guide our arrows and may our swords unleash a storm upon these abominable creatures.

-H

Letter from Haide Osoro

Baroness Marshal Furiae,

My Osos Negros and I have stopped for the night, just having crossed over the border into Mozyr. From this spot on the hill, I can see I am joined by Dame Ivanka's Crimson Bows and Ser Lamidithous' Heavy Dragons, as well as a horde of some five-and-forty monsters and undead. It seems as though we will attack at sunset.

For the time being, I finally have a moment to myself to respond properly to your beautifully written letter:

I once heard stars described as pinpricks in the celestial dome which allow the light of the heavens to shine through. As I stare at them hanging in the sky now, I think that a lovely interpretation.

Inversely, I once heard a heretic pronounce that stars are but gaseous explosions in a dark void of nothingness.

You resemble the former, no doubt.

And while I appreciate your offer of employ, Baroness, I will have to respectfully decline. Ink, blood, and seawater—they're all the same to my hands, but in them I prefer silver swords over spoons.

As we head into battle side-by-side soon, though, I reckon I should admit I am impressed by you. Truthfully, you have accomplished much in your ten-and-seven years. And while I wish I could regale you with tales of my own military prowess, recent events deem that impossible.

I would rather keep these cards close to the chest, but I know it is important to be honest with one's allies. And besides, you seem someone who has eyes and ears in all corners of the realm, so perhaps you already have heard. So I will get it over with and out in the open.....

The other night, the Tidemother spit me up on the beach with a knot on my head and my memories wiped clean.

The peculiar manner in which they were erased lead me to believe some foul play was involved. I remember a crashed ship and a purple flash of light. Aside from that, my memories come back to me reflexively but with no other information attached. Ask me what I like to drink and I can tell you "mead" but cannot tell you how I know this. Like an iceberg with nothing underneath.

You need not worry about this in the battle tomorrow, however; I know still know how to handle a sword. The last thing I'd ever want is pity or for you to think me vulnerable—I am not. But I will always be honest and thought this important to share.

I look forward to meeting in person tomorrow. May the Tidemother guide us all.

-H

Letter from Haide Osoro

(This letter is penned with a shaking hand)

Baroness Marshal Furiae,

As the sun rose, my Osos Negros and I engaged with the terrorizers. I had thought perhaps we would be joined by the Crimson Bows and Heavy Dragoons, but we were not.

We were overwhelmed. Osos were slaughtered. I ordered a retreat.

It is a humiliating and inexcusable failure of my leadership. The responsibility rests solely on my shoulders, as my Osos fought valiantly and with bravery.

I apologize for my failure and its reflection on the Golden Host.

I will rally my men and await your arrival.

Haide Osoro Dame of Golden Farrow

Roleplay from Furiae de Haguns

Roleplay from Furiae de Haguns

(Personal message to Haide Osoro) Location: Between Farrowfield and Mozyr Furiae had set up a small camp near the causeway that led from Farrowfield towards Mozyr, so the Thunderstorm Guard could have a moment of respite after their forced march from Golden Farrow. The coldness of the season had caused them to slow down the pace, though the winter didn’t seem to be as bad as in the Perdan Mines. Sitting on a fallen tree and dressed only in boiled leather armor instead of her preferred gowns, she had Haide’s letters in her hands, both the one where the new dame had boldly answered her last missive – one Furiae recognized she had sent in another outburst of hers – and the other, where the young dame reported the defeat at Mozyr. Just like Laraibina, she might have experienced hers…, thought Furiae, shaking her head. Captain Magnus stood by her side, as she read loudly both letters. “M’lady, you’ve been harsh on this dame on your letters. But she is brave, one must admit.” “Captain, there is a fine line between boldness and foolishness”, replied Furiae, for she would not easily cave in. She glared at the captain. “She mocked me in her letter, so…” The captain interrupted her, imposing his fatherly style, for he knew the you baroness would listen. “M’lady, she may not have done this intentionally, and even if she did, you’re a lady of the Autarchy, and a Marshal. You should not let yourself get involved in a petty dispute.” Under his inquisitive eyes, Furiae turned her face slightly to the side. “It is not that simple, Magnus. I will not lie, I have some mistrusts concerning her. I have received… concerning news that I might have been spied on...”, she paused briefly, uncertain if she should mention more of that. “And there is that different matter with Astrum… suddenly a new dame arrives, and I can only think she might be an Astrumese spy, even though I have no quarrels with that country.” The captain observed her with curiosity, for that was not the first time Furiae had displayed her paranoid tendencies. “Yet you’re going to assist her at Mozyr.” “I am going to offer support to the Lady of Mozyr, Viscountess Calypso Hwitt.” “Yet you’ve ordered the soldiers to prepare to march again as soon as you read this new dame suffered losses.” Furiae sighed. “Tol Goldora cannot let itself fall under the pressure of bickering nobles again. I have heard of the Times of Troubles during the Royal Duke Solomon Greybrook’s reign as Navarch… now they even changed the title to Autarch… it was not long ago, and I was but a child in the East Continent…”, she started getting lost, but then eyed the captain more intently, a serious expression coming to her youthful face. “She should be glad to have addressed me in that discourteous and disgraceful manner, and not some of the older nobles. I have been shrewd enough to know my place and not to make enemies so far, and look where this has led me, at my... age.", while she was glad to be youthful, she still felt insecure about what other people would say about someone so young as her displaying such titles. The captain Magnus Heidric nodded, but would not stop there. He and Furiae had grown to trust each other over the months, and he always tried to guide her lightly, as he was far more experienced and had served many ladies and lords during his lifetime, first as a professional soldier, than as a mercenary. “Yet you seem concerned about her.” “Yes, I have decided to give her the benefit of doubt concerning her behavior. I know and I can… separate the noble from the soldier, and while she displeased me with her ill-thought words, I would not let another noble of Tol Goldora be left alone in the field amongst those creatures…”. She thought back on her first mission as Marshal of the Gylden Expeditionary Legion, and how she always tried to convince herself that those sacrifice were necessary for her destined path of greatness. Still, the same question lingered in the darkness within. Am I responsible for the death of these men? Does my path lies across their graves? She rose up from the tree she had sat on. “Besides, I would never let a new dame bask in glory alone. Captain Magnus, bring me a scribe. I have a letter to dictate. And order the soldiers to prepare themselves, we cannot wait any longer. We resume our march immediately. Let us hope others are on their way and that we do not face the undead and monsters alone.”

Furiae de Haguns

Letter from Furiae de Haguns

(this letter comes in a thinly lined handwriting, it is readable, but clearly was written in haste by an expert scribe)

Dame Haide Osoro,

In your place, I would be cautious when speaking about stars, especially in Tol Goldora.

I shall enlighten you – there is a prevalent faith called Sanguis Astroism, and it is the official religion in Astrum. Since you state you have lost your memories – something I find highly doubtful, and which raises suspicions – you must know that not long ago, Astrum declared a War of Hatred against Tol Goldora.

Fortunately we are at peace now, but there is still a lingering hate amongst our peoples. I was not in Tol Goldora when that conflict erupted, but I have heard tales of it, and know the deep resentment some have with Astrum and their bloodstars.

I, for example, rule over Faithill and have to maintain a tenuous balance with my subjects, as they worship the Bloodstars, while I worship the Tidemother.

Now, to address your last insulting letter. One thing I am certain, you are a bold dame to say this of me. Either too bold or too foolish. But a very lucky one, because when I read your last letters, my mind was focused in coordinating with the other lords and knights an appropriate military response for the attacks in Mozyr, so I will let it go. For now.

Therefore, I shall only issue a mild warning. Dame Osoro, do not try me.

Now, on to more important and immediate matters. I am marching with the Thunderstorm Guard towards Mozyr and shall reach it at sunrise, if the Tidemother wills it, and I find no unforeseen circumstances that hold me back.

From what I know, the Vice-Marshal of the Golden Host, sir Lamidithous shall be arriving with his cavalry, as well as the knight Kal-El Itausson, with his own cavalry retinue. Dame Ivanka is coming with her Crimson Bows. We should swiftly destroy the enemies with this composition, if the Tidemother wills it.

Rally your men and prepare for the fight, do not return to Farrowfield. Stay at Mozyr. We will need infantry to secure the lines and protect the archers.

Do not apologize to me, I am not your commander. I command the Gylden Expeditionary Legion, while you are assigned to the Golden Host, under Marshal Antigone.

In fact, do not apologize.

It is not necessary.

You were the first to arrive at Mozyr, which reveals boldness and eagerness to defend the homeland. I commend you for that, dame of Golden Farrow. And I am sorry that you have had to engage the creatures alone. I know very well what it is to lose men one trusts. A retreat in this case was the honorable and sensible course of action.

It was not a failure. Men have died under my command, and more will die as well. We are fallible, after all. Learn from this experience and remember to call for support or wait for reinforcements if the odds are overwhelming against you.

Now, please, send me a battle report of what has happened, so I may plan myself for what is coming.

I hope to finally see you in the battlefield.

Yours truly, and carried by the winds,

Furiae de Haguns

Baroness of Faithill

Marshal of the Gylden Expeditionary Legion

Roleplay from Haide Osoro

{{Message2 |Type=Roleplay |Sender=Haide Osoro

|Content= (Personal message to Furiae de Haguns)

Location: An orange tree grove in disarray, on the outskirts of Mozyr

Haide can't speak to them. Or look at them. Or look at herself for that matter.

She paces between rows of mangled orange trees. Clearly, the crops were recent victims to the growing monster problem in the region.

Like her men.

"Tonta!" Haide exclaims suddenly, swinging her boot into a rotting orange. The fruit explodes spectacularly—it does nothing to make her feel better.

In her fist, she clenches the newest arrived letter from the Baroness Marshal Furiae. The parchment is completely crushed in her grip, though that has nothing to do with the contents of the letter—okay, little to do with the contents of the letter—and everything to do with the blood pounding in her ears, making her face burn and her hands shake.

In an effort to prove she wasn't weak to Furiae and her newfound allies Golden Host, she had naively led her men on a suicide mission.

The moment her Osos had clashed with the creatures, she knew she was outmatched. Horrific beasts had slashed their claws and gnashed their teeth and struck down Vincente and Alvaro in one sickening blow. Their blood had splattered Haide's face, and she had watched Eduardo charge forward, crying out and throwing a vengeful blow against the murderous creature three times his size. There was no chance of victory. "RETREAT!" she had bellowed.

She musn't think about it. She can't.

But she also can't stop.

In the din of swords against thick skins and claws, a collection of memories had hit Haide like ice water. And suddenly, she was twelve again, being dragged through a burning seaside peasant village by a death-grip on her arm. "Tonta!" her father had screamed. Around them, her father's pirates looted, raided, and murdered, their cutlasses slicing indiscriminately. Moments before, the young Haide had found a family hiding in a barn she was meant to set aflame and had told them to run. Her father had seen.

"Stop," Haide orders herself out loud. "Stop."

...If this is how getting her memories back is going to go, she would much rather not.

In desperate need of a distraction, she swallows hard, sits down on the dirt, and smoothes out Furiae's letter. She reads it for the fourth time but only gets through the first few lines before thrusting a finger at the page indignantly. "Astrum!" she exclaims. "But you—you said stars! You said you were a star!" Her voice sounds embarrassingly whiny to her own ears.

Haide continues to read and feels her face growing hotter and hotter with each line.

"Dame Osoro, do not try me."

Her stomach twists like rung out cloth. So shaken is she by her recent failure and subsequent memory that her usual bravado is gone. She knew she was pushing too hard with her letter—she knew it the moment she had written it. The moment she had thought it, even. But then she had sealed the letter and sent it on its way regardless, smug with her own fearlessness and disregard for authority. As she is wont to do. And somehow, that unrestraint had made her feel better about the ill-fated battle with monsters ahead.

Should she ask for forgiveness?

Immediately, some part of her screams in protest. Never. Never regret.

She gets to the turning point in the letter, where her chastisement ends and talk of battle begins. At least here there is a clear course of action she can fixate on.

Still, on the whole, the letter leaves her feeling like a child—scolded like a child, comforted like a child, because she behaved like a child—and the humiliation feels sticky in her bones. Tears of shame well up in her eyes. And now, she's crying like a child.

Haide clambers to her feet and beats the dirt from her pants. She will have to return to camp and face her Osos in order to retrieve the battle report. And of course, she will have to write some sort of letter to accompany it. She sighs deeply, wipes the tears from her face, and composes herself.

One thing is certain: she must never let Furiae know her weakness.

Flirting Letter from Haide Osoro

(this letter is better written than the previous, Haide having regained some composure)

Baroness Marshal Furiae,

Rest assured I hold no love in my heart for "bloodstars." The only instance in which stars—of blood or the regular sort—are of any use to me is in service of the sea, for the purposes of navigation. But even then, I almost certainly require the aid of a far greater number than whichever three those fanatics across the continent fancy.

Regardless, I thank you for your warning regarding the still-fresh wounds from Astrum.

As for your other warning, the one about not trying you—a wise man once said, "Do or do not, there is no try." Since I have not even the slightest intention of ever "doing" anything to against you, I will be sure not to "try" you, either. Unless you ask nicely first.

Currently, I am still rallying my Osos. We will stay put in Mozyr and await your and the Golden Host's arrival. It is good to know so many other units will be here shortly.

I took forward to meeting the force behind the quill in-person. May the Tidemother's winds guide us to victory, so that we may have just vengeance for my Osos and the residents of Tol Goldora who have suffered at the claws of these beasts.

-H

Flirting Letter from Furiae de Haguns

(this letter is written in the same penmanship of her scribe)

Dame Haide,

I think your memory problems might be persistent, as it seems you keep forgetting who you are addressing.

I am not one to "ask nicely", I do command. If I want something, I always get it. If I strive my mind to have something, I will always have it.

And by social rank, a lady always outranks a dame. Therefore, it is you that should ever mind of "asking nicely" to try anything.

I look forward to finally meeting you.

May the Tidemother protect you.

Stay out of harm's way.

Yours, and carried by the winds,

Furiae de Haguns

Baroness of Faithill

Marshal of the Gylden Expeditionary Legion