Need help writing back to a Player Character.
Greetings;
I am asking help in writing a letter back to one of my players. While I would prefer a female player to write a response (as I am not a mother nor do I have chidren) I happily take any aid whatsoever.
In my campaign, Halruaa "Departed" Toril in 4E then "Returned" to Toril in 5E (5 years ago in 1487).
here is an excerpt about the Skyship that Du was passenger on (Not that you would know it)
A Fool’s errand
Swift Cloud once was the envy of every sky captain of Halruaa. That, however, was before the time Halruaa departed. Now since the time of Halruaa returned she was the oldest, most weakened and damaged Skyship in the
fleet with recalcitrant sailors, corrupt officers, and land lubber passengers too clueless to know they were on a fool’s errand.
Likewise Fae creatures (including elves) are almost unknown in Returned Halruaa. Only half-Drow raiders in the NE and Drow dwelling underneath Abier are known well.
You would have gotten this letter from your husbands church (He's a Cleric of Mystra) but it's now Uktar (seven or so months later) and it's summer here and winter where Du is.
What do you think she would write back?
Many thanks and I look forward to your responses.
Herdan
About the character
Du Belthor (Paladin of Mystra)
His most oddest feature, once you get beyond the accent and mannerisms is his eyes - Steel with silverish irises. They aren't the colour, they look more like the metal.
Parents are Haunui (Mother, a very high ranking Monk of the Shadowed Path) & Ngana -(Father, Cleric of Mystra)
I was born on a Battlefield on Abier, during an attack on a Halruaan village (up near the northern mountains).
I was brought up in a Large house and a modest lifestyle with 2 older siblings (a girl Ath and a boy Brezim, both Monks), and a younger sister (Grelim) who's a scout.
Why am I in Waterdeep? Part of a mission to the North. My superior was attacked in Baldur’s gate (turning out to be mortally so) and by the time we arrived in Waterdeep, she directed me to present a gift and letter from the Halruaan council to the Open Lord of Waterdeep and a package to the Temple of Mystra. She died in Waterdeep and her remains are being transferred back to Halruaa, leaving me adrift in Waterdeep due to weight concerns. Presently based out of the Castle until I can arrange suitable accommodations.
One odd background thing.... My immediate family never spoke of my ancestors, and when I asked, they would change the subject.
Waterdeep, 1 Mirtul 1492
Dearest Mother,
I hope this missive finds you well and all the household healthy. I am hale but working my way out of a moral and ethics quandry. I previously sent a letter via a Trade-Captain said to be sailing <nautical> to Halruaa and, upon reflection, have copied the gist of it here as I doubt that letter will arrive. This missive I entrust to The Mystran Church to deliver it to you as in timely a manner as they feel.
I regret to inform you of the Envoy’s murder and the possible loss of the skyship SwiftCloud (if this is news to you then it must have been lost while attempting a direct flight home from Waterdeep). To add misery to woe I regret to inform you that, whilst saving children from a Hag, I was dragged into, for a short time, what I can only suppose is the Shadowfell. Alas my exposure to this environ proved to be detrimental and I now seem to be able to feel The Weave as it ebbs and flows around me. Add in the most strangest pattern as the moon waxes and wanes and it is almost too confusing to sort out this impact upon my senses. The most horrific part is I seem to be showing signs of sorcerous ability.
While I still am beloved (as evidenced by my continued status as a Blessed Warrior) I am constrained from taking up an Oath (You are aware on how this impacts Paladins) until the matter of both The Weave and the Moon are understood and their influences upon me settle and become ‘normal’. Of all Mystran Orders, it could be that only The Blue Moon might accept me. But enough about my woes, as you have said and taught – The Gods give us challenges, so we may overcome them and thusly become better in their, and our, eyes. I shall just pass on interesting and amusing observations for the rest of this missive.
Due to the extended time Waterdeep was without access to Halruaa I have had to register with The Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors as they have a most odd system of governing this city-state. I am under the watchful eye of the instructors of The Tower Academy – the academic and intellectual elite of the Watchful Order's academies - an honour for any mage, let alone one of the unteachable. My taskmasters are stern and demand I train my ability to it’s utmost level. I shall see whether this is an ongoing affliction or perhaps I may be able to become a real mage as befits one from Blessed Halruaa.
I have secured a place to live and, hopefully, a source of modest income to provide against the uncertainties of the future while allowing me to promote (as in spread the word) Halruaa returned. The Council has of yet neither named me nor another Consul and the abandoned goods for Halruaa are becoming a tad bothersome drain upon my limited purse.
The Candlekeep library has the most eclectic collection of books, so much so that I suspect if I was to bring in a gnome sandwiched between a book-cover they would accept it. At least I have plenty of free reading material for winter from the goods awaiting delivery to Halruaa. Spoilage will be tracked and reported once a final disposition of the goods is determined.
The Waterdeepian hodgepodge of trades, guilds, and professional orders is confusing but I shall endevor to be kind to those in need and mindful of the pride of all working men/women/others.
When I arrived I came across a Noble lady - Lady Jalanvaloss – who had eyes just as mine. I gathered such things run in her family. I did admit that knowledge of my greater ancestors was scant. hint
My staff, such as it is, and such as they are, seem to be showing almost comical stereotype behaviour. Ani - the Tabaxi from Chult, SwiftCloud’s assistant navigator, has claimed the only tower of the building and proposes to wander outside it’s eaves staring at the northern constellations. Nocturnal feline behaviour at it’s best. I reside on the opposite side of the building and thusly won’t be too disturbed (I hope) when the loud thump of flesh hitting floor and “I meant to do that” rings out. Grelfig, my dogsbody / apprentice healer, seems to show what happens to “Nomes” when they have no Lantaneese outlets – rather than invent a thing, he is inventing a perception or viewpoint of reality. I have the honour of being viewed as one of his clumsy-footed benighted Landsmen in his crew of the sorriest looking sea-dogs assembled. I fear his attachment to penny-dreadfuls, “Ripping yarns of High-Seas Adventures” and an overindulged sense of whimsy is being expressed as some sort of sea saga. I do hope he’ll settle down but I am presently able to overcome his social faux-pas with “He was a distressed, abandoned seaman. I couldn’t leave him there alone and I feel somewhat obligated to look after him since then so I presently employ him as my dogsbody. Obviously his time abandoned has, shall we say, warped his perception but I believe he is slowly recovering.” Left unsaid is “He’s mostly harmless... mostly”.
I shall write again and you can get in contact with me through the Mystran Temple here.
Your loving son,
D
PS enclosed is a copy of first letter
Dearest Mother, Or shall I greet you as Mistress of the Topaz Halls?
I entrust this letter, written 15th Tarshak to a Captain Clerebold "Quaggoth" Duskwood on the same day, at Waterdeep.
Captain Duskwood is a bluff old salt, smelling like rank, fetid, algae-choked water and only infrequently does he begin babbling and become incapable of normal speech. I have no faith whatsoever that this letter will reach you, but stranger things have happened.
His vessel (I am hesitant to name it a "Ship") 'The Ugly Succubus' engenders a like level of expectations, save I have no faith at all that it will be able to safely leave harbour, let alone brave the Deeps.
As the Seers should have informed you I am alive, but adrift, in Waterdeep. My Knight foully poisoned, and a novice of no city-recognized chapter I have retained some of the cast-off crew from the Swift Cloud who are 'in the same boat as me' - pun intended.
The city teems in a chaotic writhing press of all races... yet order can be seen in the broad image.
I plead with you to intercede with the council and either have them recall me home or name me Consul and send funds such I may establish a consulate and ensure safe storage for the Halruaan-bound goods that were offloaded with me and "assigned" to my care.
Pass on my affection and hope for a better tomorrow to my siblings and let Evelina know that Lantanese folk prefer "Nome" over “Lesser-Dwarf”. Indeed, they tend to voice their unhappiness in no uncertain terms. I am presently assisting, as best I can, in maintaining order, such as it is, in Waterdeep and have started to try and assist these poor souls of 'beyond-Halruaa'.
As a treat I am off this evening to the famed Yawning Portal where I shall touch the floor of the Undermountain (Fear not, for I shall immediately ascend). I enclose this letter now as either the tide is about to go? Flow? or it is felt that the leaks have stopped and ‘soonest off, soonest home’. Truly some of the bravest souls sail the seas. My luck seems to have given me either Drunks or Fools... and most likely both.
