Thar Shaddin

Henrik my boy,

I said I'd make sure you kept your writing exercises going, and I'm a dwarf of my word. Running a business is no excuse not to keep up your literacy. It's bloody important, it is. And get that grimace off your face right now, lad, I can see it from the fort.

Anyways, you don't get to see as much of me at present, what with both of us working our beards off, nor get to hear much about what I do now I've started my career as a guard, so this'll be two chickens in one chop. Been a rough week, as you can imagine. It's one thing to stand in place all day, preparing cuts of meat at a bench, and a different job entirely traipsing all over the bloody shanty town wearing armour the day long.

I know you worried at the outset that folks would have difficulty believing a dwarf was a guard. Well lad, you cleft the joint with that one. Had one joker try to get another guard to arrest me for impersonating a guard. Mateo, being a good man and not holding grudges over his bruised kneecaps, put the lout in his place. I don't suppose it'll be long before word spreads, though. You know what old city and gossip is like: goes out like a goat's blood on the primary cut.

So, what have I been doing? Good question. A lot of bloody walking, I tell you. Broke up three brawls, and got to test the mettle of the standard issue helm against some brute with a chair leg. It was like having my head inside a bloody bell as it was being rung, Henrik, and I advise against you experiencing that sort of thing. I'd prefer an honest knuckle-to-skull wallop, truth be told, but that helm did its job and let me do mine. There are some guards who don't like wearing it, mind: says it makes their necks sore and sends a bloke bald before their time. Guess it's lucky we dwarves are a stiffnecked bunch, eh Henrik? I'll admit to shunning the visor though. I like having bloody peripheral vision. Not to mention being able to breathe fresh air.

I think my sergeant is still holding a grudge about me making it through training, but sod him. They'll bloody well have to get used to the idea of dwarves as guards. I can bet I ain't the only dwarf lad who ever looked at the shiny breastplates and got ideas. And maybe some lads won't decided to wait a few decades now they see me doing my bit for the good people of Marn. Not to mention breaking some heads for the not-so-good people of Marn. Never thought I'd get to break old Ainsworth's nose on official business. Damn lout never learns to keep his mouth and fists to himself.

Honestly, apart from moaning about all the paperwork, that pretty much covers my first week. Truth be told, I've got a report to submit for the idiot kid I caught climbing out of someone's window with a hand full of expensive clothing. Bloke he stole from was pretty understanding about it, so we set the idiot to cleaning up one of the streets we was patrolling. Make him give something back to the people he was going to take from. I reckon the kid would have preferred a caning, between you and me.

Anyway, that's about as much time as can be spared from my reports. What about you, my boy? How's the shop going, and have you been getting out and about? I hear that young Erika has been making eyes at you. Might be time to consider tidying up that birds nest of a beard into something more presentable, eh? And don't forget: no slacking off with these letters. If you haven't got a letter for me within a couple of days, I'll come round and box your ears, and don't you think I'm bluffing!

Your meddling old man,
Darrik
(June, 127PW)

Vater,

I was not grimasing, and you no it wel. And dont go thinking its your left hook that has me writing back. But you no im beter with numbers then leters. Dont you go naging about it niether, you grumpy old bear, because here I am with the leter I promised.

Business goes wel, you wil be glad to hear. I worked out an aranjement with Patro in Shim for a deal on his livestock, in exchanje for discount to his family in Marn. Patro has a big family but a bigger flock so it is a good bargin, and undercuts the abatoir prices by a ful half in ten. It is more work to prepare them, but there is definet profit involved.

It is good that other guards aknolej you. I am sure Marn wil grow to see dwarves as equal to humans and elves in time. It has only been since grandvater's life, tho, so there is plenty of time. I am proud that you have taken a big step for our comunity in that regard, as is everyone. Even if old Lars rekons its because your blood is tainted with human stock. Ainsworth is not the only broken nose this week, tho Lars did manage to blacken my eye. But that is to be expectid of the Hammered Anvil at the week's end. As grand oncle Toskvig says, 'loose lips and tight fists'. I think grandmater would not approve of you having me learn fisticuffs from Toskvig, as he is a rough carictur, but I have not told her.

I do not no where you heared about Erika, but I think you are puling my beard. She is a regular customer, but that does not mean she is making eyes at me. And there is nothing wrong with my beard, you troublemaking old bear, I neaten it once every week. Those are fyting words, and you no it. When are you next coming around for diner? I put my hands on some nice quails, and I no you like those.

Your hardworking son,
who is nuntheles writing a leter for his naging father,
Henrik
(June, 127 PW)

Henrik my boy,

You've not seen a lot of me this past month, and you've got my word I'll make up for it soon.
I know you've been wanting to know what's been keepin' me away all kinds of hours, so here goes with a bit of an explanation.

Word came down that Auxiliary were looking for a couple of volunteers to keep up a stationary patrol in a couple of sections of the industrial district. Been rumours and complaints filed of something unusual prowling them areas at night, and they wanted some stationary eyes to complement the usual patrols. Well, you can guess why I volunteered. No progress on that end, to my regret, but maybe next time. It was different kind of work to normal patrols, though.

I don't want you ever complaining to me about being bored, my boy, until you've sat in one spot with a spyglass watching abandoned buildings night after night. None of us caught sight of whatever it was. Hell, it could have smelled us and laid low for all I bloody well know. Who knows what foul abilities abominations are capable of?

Not sure what I think of the Sergeant looking after secondments and despatch within Auxiliary, mind you. I've never met a more smug bastard in my entire life. Wasn't a damn day when we reported nothing from our night patrols and he didn't say 'Still in the dark, eh?'. Could have throttled the man, I tell you.

Talking about insufferable prats, I hear you and the brewer's lad Gerhart had a bit of a tussle. Rumour has it a certain blue-eyed darling who may or may not be called Erika was at the heart of the matter. Be a bit more discreet m'boy, as it'd be a bit awkward hauling you in for unruly behaviour, but I'm proud you're willing to fight for what you want. There is no other way in life, you mark my words Henrik, and if you keep a hold of that fire you'll go far.

Lastly, Fredrik tells me his wife's cousin in Shim has had a good year with her herb garden. Might be a good way to cut costs on some of the ingredients for them spicy sausages you like making so much. I reckon you should drop in at the Firkin and have a bit of a chat with him. Like old Holsted always used to say: never miss a chance to source ingredients direct.

Your recently absent old man,

Darrik
(September, 127PW)