Dearest mother
Thank you so much for your festive package. Your inclusion of more beard-oil is so thoughtful and I will put it with the other bottle awaiting the day when I have enough follicles to consider growing one rather than shaving the rare wispy tendril that dares make an appearance. The other items remind me so much of growing up among so many elder family members and receiving their hand-me-downs on feast days. The nostalgia is almost overwhelming, like the mothballs they were packed with.
I am thinking of you most earnestly at this sacred time of the year and send my regret that I cannot visit home as my duties here in Boldhome keep me occupied again. An entire year spent dutifully as the second candlestick bearer and third cupholder in many ceremonies in the Grand Temple of Issaries finally paid off and I have been elevated to God-talker at last. Yes, I know this is a full 15 months longer than it took Brunhilde. I remind you that I lack certain advantages she had in this regard that she deployed mercilessly in persuading certain senior priests to prefer her for advancement. Plus there was the incident when a rival for the position tripped me and I deposited a full chalice of spiced berry wine all over the Rune-Lord. There was no chance of me achieving promotion to any position where he had any say in the matter after that, that's for certain. Still, it's all in the past now.
My progress from struggling little shop to large shop took place in late spring last year. With elevation in the priesthood behind me I'm primed to open a fashionable boutique as soon as I can find time in the calendar. The year has been equally kind to my competitor Erinestra, who owns a flourishing Boutique and a large house in the merchant's quarter. I have contemplated buying a similar dwelling, but at present there are no vacancies. I may have to wait until one of the colonels presently living in the merchant's quarter move to finer lodgings elsewhere. Mercantile success is by no means assured, of course. Johannes packed up his food stall and left Boldhome in a hurry with creditors hot on his heels. A couple of my high profile patrons sadly died in military escapades but others have seen their own status rise and have become regulars. The supply of fine garments and gifts for feast days is proving popular. The court appears to have several feast days lined up for the spring season before Boldhome empties out as most of us march off on summer campaign.
Blessings of this Holy time upon you and father. Pass on my fondest regards to Brunhilde, Leif, Fargas and Clodwin. Give Smoggins' tummy a rub from me.
Your loving son
Grumbold
A letter home 1632
-
- Posts: 204
- Joined: Fri May 19, 2023 11:07 pm
A letter home 1632
Grumbold Rahlefson of the Locaem
Scrawny tow-headed beanpole of a lad; usually complaining about the cold, the damp, the pollen or the heat.
Proprietor of Silks and Sapphires. Conspicuously buy your apparel here!
Lt Col of the Royal Foot Guard.
Scrawny tow-headed beanpole of a lad; usually complaining about the cold, the damp, the pollen or the heat.
Proprietor of Silks and Sapphires. Conspicuously buy your apparel here!
Lt Col of the Royal Foot Guard.