Back in his room in the Elf Song tavern, Thomas Oak sank down onto the soft bed and threw yet another glance over to the desk where the newly purchased ink, quill and paper lay silently waiting for him. He had never been a great writer, or even an apt one as his father had made sure that he was never taught alongside the other children on the farmstead, something that had always puzzled young Thomas. There always seemed to be a horse that needed grooming, a few hundred logs that needed cleaving or, gods forbid, a privy that needed a good scrubbing every time Mrs. Hawthorn had come over for her reading-and-writing classes. Strangely enough, Tom, Jasmine and his other siblings had always been allowed to attend. Sure, they were older than him by as much ten years, Tom was a veritable sage in his eyes, but he was pretty sure he was smarter than they were. That didn't mean much, certainly, the Oak's were never known for... well, honestly never known for anything, but least of all their wits. Still, it always seemed that while the other children were still learning the basics of plowing, Thomas was already on his way to the next field, literally and figuratively. What little 'classical' schooling he had, he had gotten second-hand from his corpulent sister Norah, and that's only because he bribed her with sweets from the large and bustling kitchen. Thomas had a growing suspicion, especially when he began reaching his true height of nearly seven feet, that the staff saw him clear as day even when he tried his very hardest to navigate stealthily amongst the pots and pans, but merely chose not to pursue the matter. Was it fear he had seen in their eyes? It was hard to tell since none outside his family held his gaze for more than maybe half a second before averting their gaze and even his brothers and sisters sometimes seemed uncomfortable...
He quickly shook off the ever growing chasm of nostalgia before it swallowed him whole and stood up. Going back there even in thought, he realized, was not bound to bring anything but sour moods and a foul taste of soil and manure in his mouth. His goals were here and now and due to what less faithful men would call a mere "stroke of luck"... more tangible than ever. He sat down on the rickety chair in front of the desk as determination hardened the lines of his normally kind features. He'd be damned if he'd let something as trivial as 'basic skill' get in the way of what he felt in his heart he had to do. Biting his tongue thoughtfully, he dipped the quill in the ink and began.
Dear
I no you told me not to wast my tim and rite, but I will only sent one lettur with a surprise in it if you red to the bottomm.
Yasterdey I arrivved in Baldurr's Gate. It is large. Much larger than Daggerford, even durrin market-time with all the tents and caravans arounn it.
I slept at an in in the city calld the "Elf Song". Could you emagine they fill ther beds with fethurs insted of straw? And the pillows too! I have never seen such a
Is Tom, John, Tim, Jasmine and Norah doing alrite? I no ther is a lot to do on the farm these tim of yer and I am sory I could not be ther but it is probably for the best so the crops don't go bad like they did last yer. I am sorry for that and I didn't mean to
Is Susanne well? I no I wasn't nise to her and wouldn't call her mom, but she did not call me son and called me cursid and otter wors things as well. I no I wasn't lik the otters and I am sorry. But here peple don't seem to notice much!
Spiking of Mom, if you see her pleas giv her som flowers and tell her i lov her. I no you don't like to go ther anymor, but if you wer on your way past ther plese do it.
I met an elf namd Richard today, he is a nice and
We went wit two otter elves to go to a town near Baldur's Gate called Beregost but before we got ther a man stopd us and asked us to get a toof from something called a "wor-gun". We said yes and met a mage and went to get the toof. It was a
Aftur we killed the wor-gun and took the toof the mage went crazy and wantud to kill evrything in the wods. This got my frend Richard killed and I was sad because he was my frend. But I carrid him back to town wer someone culd bring him back so that was alrite.
We gave the man his toof and he gave us 600 pises of gold whish was almost mor gold than I ever saw.
I met a man who said he was a palydan and that I could appli to his "order" wher, if I am good, they will train me to be a palydan. I was so happy I almost dropd my hammur. I will write the
Remembur the surprise I told you about? This is magik paper so if you fold up the ends it so it becoms a bag ther shuld be 100 gold pises in it. I trid it myself and it works. I hop it is enuff to pay for the harvest I
/Thomas
ps: if no money coms out then hit the man who