A Letter

My dearest Earl Rivarol,

What a great pleasure it was to spend time in your lands these past few months. Our time together during your ambassadorship in the Reikland remains warm in my memories and in my heart. It was with sorrow that I had to leave your most noble of lands. Our journey from you passed safely and with little to regard, save a small skirmish between the folk of the woodland realm and some of your subjects in the foothills of the Grey Mountains. It appears that one of the elvish creatures was being banished by his people for a crime unknown. Their heathen ceremony of expulsion brought them into conflict with the pious people of your realm - their much vaunted bows were naught when faced with the steel of Bretonnia!

Oh for some of that bravery here in this land, my new prison. What a place they have confined me to! I cannot comprehend the gravity of the offense that I must have caused to the Emperor to be dispatched to this forsaken part of the Empire! My years of loyal service within the walls of Altdorf seem to have gained me no favour in the eyes of Karl Franz. To our friend Hoch, the great estate of Wetzlar in Stirland; to me, a towering ruin over-looking the feral Middenland city of Mandredhaven!

Apparently my skill at taking the import tariffs in the Reikport has seen me sent here. The town braces itself against the winds of the western coast and those that blow along the Reik. The small hovels that the local population call "home" lie squat against the terrible storms that blow out this way. There is little trade along the river now - most of the great trading ships unload their cargo in Marienburg, and the trade to Altdorf has long since avoided these shores. It is strange that the town still exists after this declining fate. The mayor informs me that any other town would have succumbed to it's fate long ago, but Mandredhaven retains its role as an important source of fish and crops for Middenland, despite the poor quality of water and the soil. It is said that Manaan blesses this spot more than any of his other lovers along the coast.

The men-folk are intent on nothing else but ale and women! Where are the people of peace and prestige promised by the Emperor when he dispatched me from his Court? I feel my role here is to be more peace-maker than patron of the arts. Indeed my first affairs in this place are to listen to the case against two street urchins accused of plotting rebellion against the Empire. Typical examples, I fear, of the "loyal citizens of Mandredhaven" presented to me today by the town mayor. They are accused of having some role in the worsening weather and the low tides that have struck the area over the past few months - I fear another round of accusations of demonic patronage may be beginning. Oh how these terrible acts seem to follow me around!

The strains of the past few days journey have taken their tole on my spirit my dear friend. I am called to dinner and bed somewhere in this tower of squalor that they call a castle. Pray keep me in your thoughts.

As ever, I am your faithful servant,

Graf Fersen von Mandredhaven.