The Unfinished Letter (2 Jan 2002) Tom finds an unfinished letter meant to be delivered to Lady Redmane.

Hawksmoor Keep
This fortress, built high in the giant trees for added protection, is located on the borders of the dark woods where the Jruuh and other wild, malevolent beasts roam. Looking over the hewn timber ramparts into the inky-black forest, it's easy to sense their malice. A handful of soldiers go about their business of manning the walls in chain mail, carrying spears. The flag of the Golden Hawks flies immediately beneath that of the arms of Mirari, a crowned unicorn rampant, from a pole at the center of the courtyard.

It is late afternoon of the day, and all those involved in the recent sortie against the Witch have been getting the rest and recuperation they sorely needed after having traveled so long and then venturing into the night as well. The soldiers and Golden Hawks in residence have been busying themselves clearing a trail back to the bridge as well, so that Lord November's men will encounter no difficulties in finding Hawksmoor; after so long a time of neglect, the trail has badly needed maintenance.

The archives of Hawksmoor are located deep within the heart of the fortress, to shelter them from attack -- a dusty-smelling room with many shelves heaped with map cases and books. There is a skylight overhead to bring natural light in, and braziers which can be lit to give more light to individual reading tables. What there does not appear to be is any particular organization to how maps and journals are stored in the archives, perhaps because few Explorers have also desired to be charged with the title of "Librarian."

Most of the maps are rolls of vellum stored in carved wooden scroll cases that seal tightly in order to protect them from the elements, and if Thomas is lucky, the scroll cases are labeled; thus he is able to at least eliminate all those maps which were made by other explorers and deal with other places.

The journals, like the maps, are stored with the books in no particular order so that a ship's log will be stored next to a book of history, and Thomas must flip each one open to see the title and the author. There are a great number of travelogues here as one might expect, and if it were not for a sense of time passing, it would be tempting to borrow a few and curl up by the fire for a good read, but under the circumstances, he must forego the pleasure.

Thus it is that Thomas looks about at the journals and maps, wondering where to begin....

The raven haired explorer looks around the dusty room and sighs. "Okay, it has certainly grown since I was here last. So many journeys since those days and I missed out on them. If there was time..," he trails off. He walks slowly along the stacks of journals and books, looking for the most dusty and unused section of the archives.

Well, as it turns out, there is in fact one system of organization in place: those books recently used are on top of the piles, those that haven't been used in a long time are on the bottom and in the back.

"Like how I organized my room back in Ainigton," Thomas says with a grin. He heads as far back as he can go and begins looking for any leather-bound journals, perhaps engraved with a date or initials. "This would be around Year Thirty-Nine," he comments to himself.

Some sixth sense guides Thomas's hands to ... one tiny unmarked book nearly hidden by the two large books on either side. It seems to be an account of a traveler's journey toward Kathen-by-the-Sea, a great spice-trading port with many exotic things to be seen there, and which purports to describe the traveler's brush with slavery and his escape thereof. What interests Thomas is that there is a letter tucked into the book, unfinished as if the author had been working on it and then forgotten to take it back out to finish.

Thomas retrieves the book, interest peaked. Before delving too deeply into the journal, he pulls the letter free and reads....

To the Lady Redmane

I appreciate your sympathy over my inability to convince the King of the truth behind the Jack of Hearts, and that you have granted one of your fabled steeds to my service is gracious beyond all measure. This is a journey that I feel I must make alone, however.

I dreamed again of the Sorceress's warning, when she appeared before myself and my comrades at the Dragonspine Mountains. Perhaps it was an omen, or perhaps it was only because my path is once again turning toward the West, and my mind has chosen to remind me of what happened the last time. Nevertheless, I have not once failed to find that which I seek in the five Years in which I have lived, and I shall not fail now. It was only the doubts and the will of my companions that forced me to turn back the last time. I shall not turn back now, nor shall I risk that I must do so in order to spare the lives of my friends. Whatever it costs -- I shall breach the Destroyer's Keep and there, stop the Jack of Hearts for once and for all.

I am leaving in secret in order to avoid having well-meaning companions thrust upon me. Please do not take it as offense, milady Redmane, nor do I mean to demean the strength of your arms or the help that you could offer in this journey, but I feel it is for the best that I alone bear the risks of this journey.

Do not fear that I go blindly of the dangers this time, however. I have learned much about the servants of the Destroyer from questioning scholars and wise men and women steeped in ancient lore. The growling noises we heard, I now believe to have been the work of Jruuh, which can be warded against by an alert traveler carrying a good source of light; the bugbears strike unreasoning fear into the hearts of animals, but I hope that your knightsteed, being more than a simple animal as you have reminded me many times, will prove immune to this threat as well.

If there is anything that I might have to fear, it might be that we sighted the forms of what might have been dragons or wyverns ... either of which a knight might fear to encounter, for their ferocity and cunning are legendary, and I doubt that any armor I could devise or weapon I might bear would do well against such creatures. Wildlanders tell of one great dragon in particular, made all of iron if one can credit such a thing, that dwells within Icejaw Pit.

But then again, I am hardly a knight, am I? I plan to move silently, quickly, and avoid the notice of whatever guardians the Jack might have set in his trail.

Should you fail to hear from me again within a month of this writing...

It is here that the letter trails off, apparently unfinished, with no hint within to explain why it languished, forgotten and unsent.

Thomas chuckles. "So, I did know her back then. Funny that we should meet again in the realm of the mortals. I wonder why she was in the mortal world as well. Interesting that history seems to be repeating itself. Here I stand, prepared to journey into that danger again," he says, folding the letter up. He then makes a mental note to ask Lord November if any word of strangers in the realm has reached him. Perhaps they could deliver the letter, to Redmane is she is still here. Thomas then starts looking through the journal that the letter was stuck in, to see if anything catches his attention.

A soft step is heard at the entrance of the archives. It is Hannah, now awakened from her rest after their return from the Dark Witch's lair. Now that her journeys are over for the time being, Hannah has traded her woolen traveling clothes for ones of fine linen. The long-sleeved tunic she wears is dyed a dark red, with intertwining vines embroidered in golden thread around the edges of its collar and cuffs. Her breeches are black, as are the boots that buckle well above her ankles. Around her waist is a slender black belt fastened with a golden buckle, which is fashioned in the shape of two large ivy leaves. Her hair is no longer disarrayed by wind and weather, but has been brushed and the locks closest to her face are tucked behind her ears.

Hannah looks about the room, then locates Thomas. "Milord?" she asks softly. "Am I interrupting anything? It's just that Brionna said I could find you here..."

"No, I'm just looking through my old writings," comes the reply from behind a few dusty piles of paper. "Odd to find a letter I once wrote, but was never delivered. Something must've happened while I was writing it that required me to leave immediately."

The journal itself looks as if it would make for a good read, as the author, some Golden Hawk of the past venturing into the Wild Lands, wrote of his brush with slavery and how he escaped from it with the help of friends made along the way and by his own cleverness. These adventures, however, would seem to have happened somewhere in the Northeast rather than to the West which would be of more importance at the moment.

Hannah walks over to where Thomas stands, holding his journal. "Anything of interest in that letter, even if it is old?"

Thomas shrugs and returns the journal to its resting place. He continues skimming over the stacks, looking for anything starting with the word "Last" or "West." He pauses in his search to look up, then offers the letter to Hannah. "Feel free to read it," he says. "But be careful. I want to make sure it still reaches its intended recipient."

At the very bottom of the last map holding shelf, in an unlabelled mahogany scroll case, Thomas finds it: an old sheet of vellum that sprouts a few new cracks as he unrolls it, which shows the route that the Explorer Thomas followed in company with the Royal Linguist Oberia and Captain Randall, in order to travel to the supposed lair of the Destroyer.

It feels odd to be studying the map. At one level, it is unfamiliar to him as if he were seeing it for the first time; at another, as he follows the dotted line, it seems as if he were reliving the travels, recalling how he reconstructed the map painstakingly, and at a third, he is overlaying what he knows of the Ainigton countryside onto the map and finding it startlingly similar ... as if the countryside had been writ large and peopled with monsters and ruins and villages here and there.

If Thomas reads this right, his road would have passed through the Golden Woods and skirted the Dark Woods along the south edge, passing by a cliff he recalls as the one where he faced the Bandit Queen for the first time. There is a ruined castle, Caer Bannuac, which overlooks the Wastelands, a dry, rocky place where the wise traveler will stop at Annaq's Oasis to refill his canteens, and then he must pass by the Point of Peril to cross the Bridge of Sorrows and therein, take the Way of Dwarves toward Icejaw Pit, which has been fancifully drawn as the maw of a great dragon resting across the Dragonspine Mountains. A short trail leads around and up toward what has been marked with a skull and crossbones and labeled, "Destroyer's Keep."

Hawksmoor Keep is not on this map ... but then, it hadn't been built at the time. There's no guessing what else might have changed in the many Years that have gone by.

"Great," Thomas gasps. "I remember making this map. Ages ago but ... I remember." He shakes his head and carefully sets the map aside to make two copies of later: one for this journey and another to add to the old letter to Redmane. He continues looking over the journals, trying to remain roughly around the thirty-ninth Year. "Let's see, are any of Randall's old writings here? Come to think of it, let's see if I recorded anything about what I learned about Jack before I left," he mutters.

Hannah takes the offered letter and reads over it quickly. Her eyebrows raise. "Lady Redmane...?" she says softly to herself. "I remember that name from legend, as well. She rescued a king's daughter from some evil, as I recall. That's why she was knighted. Hmm."

"Red-haired knight," Thomas comments to Hannah as he looks. "Friend of mine. She's still around, believe it or not. She was also in the mortal world with me."

Minutes crawl by in which Thomas's attention is distracted by the necessary study of all the materials that either are not labeled well enough to be eliminated at a glance, or sound as if they might contain something pertinent to his search. There are logs of some of Randall's travels, including one in which he made an abortive attempt to retrace Thomas's route...

Unfortunately, it would appear that Randall, thence Captain of the Golden Hawks, had no success in discovering Thomas's whereabouts, as a desert storm in the Wastelands overwhelmed him and his party, and caused their pack horses to be lost. With no clear idea as to which direction Annaq's Oasis might lie, they were forced to turn back for more hospitable lands, and the weight of his duties thereafter prevented him from mustering another expedition.

Thomas sighs. "Randall, I should have been here. I shouldn't have gone off alone ... and now you're gone. If I could have been with you in Avarre perhaps you'd still be around," he whispers. "I should visit where you fell. I owe you that much, old friend."

It appears that Randall had desired to seek out Thomas's body, if he had died, so that it might be brought back for proper burial, and he concluded his final entry in this book with regrets that he was unable to do so, and prayers for Thomas's soul, wherever it might have gone.

Hannah touches Thomas on the shoulder to get his attention as he sifts through books and scrolls, so that she can hand his letter back to him. She smiles sadly. "We can never be all the places we are needed at all times, I know ... but perhaps it will give you some comfort to visit the place where Randall last stood. I certainly hope so, for your sake."

Thomas takes the letter quietly and sets it beside the map. "It would give me a chance to say goodbye," Thomas finally says, "and that I am sorry for leaving everyone behind. All that's left of those I knew are Sam, Redmane, and now ... heh, Elissa." He shrugs and returns to searching for journals he may have written that relate to the Jack of Hearts.

More minutes crawl by as Thomas surveys the journals. It occurs to him after some time that he has never been in the habit of keeping a journal of thoughts himself, and that any book he would have left behind would have been of travels already completed. Another moment's thought suggests that all the other books found here will be likewise of others' travels, and thus unlikely to be concerned with doings within civilized Mirari. Perhaps more information could be found back in the city.

Hannah's brow furrows. "Elissa?" she asks, not recognizing the name.

"You knew her as the Dark Witch," Thomas replies as he sits amongst the papers, considering what he should do next. The Lord Protector must be found, as he told Lord December he would do so.

A hard look passes over Hannah's face at the mention of the Witch. "I see," she mutters darkly. After a pause to regain her composure, she says, "There is still much I do not understand about you, Lord Explorer, but I did not feel it was my place to bother you with such questions. But now I cannot help but to ask ... why did you let the Witch go free?"

Thomas gathers of the few documents he uncovered and looks toward Hannah. "Because of a promise I made near twenty Years ago, Hannah. Had she fallen due to the results of my actions, her fate would have been mine. Age does not diminish an oath. I still felt the pain of the reminder when she declared who she once was."

Hannah's eyes narrow at this information. After a time, she asks, "Was this promise made when she was merely the Bandit Queen of old? When she referred to herself as such, I remembered the legend I told to you, that of the founding of the Golden Hawks. Then you said that you did not know anything about that part of the story. Is this still true?"

"I knew plenty of what happened with the Bandit Queen, Hannah. It is not one of my grander moments, and dangerous for me to tell others about. Mistakes of old can haunt you forever," Thomas replies. "I swore an oath that I would not hunt her down, nor harm her in any way, so long as those who followed me were also not harmed by her. It was a bargain I struck to protect Randall and Oberia, as I could have escaped, but they would have probably not made it. Oberia was long mad at me for that deal. More so when I went off to talk with the Bandit Queen for a time. That's when I learned her name: Elissa."

Hannah quietly absorbs what Thomas tells her, then shakes her head. "It seems to me that the Witch broke the promise you made by terrorizing and killing those who lived near the Golden Woods with her illusions and her bands of brigands," she says shortly. Then she sighs. "But if you felt pain while confronting her ... then the pact you made still holds. And I know that the Grail restored her youth and beauty ... but I am uncertain as to whether or not is truly saved her soul."

"As am I. Only time will answer the question of her soul. As for the oath, she was tricked into doing it by Jack. He used her as a puppet. She was a victim as much as those she terrorized were. Jack is the enemy here, not her. I suspect he was able to get to her and manipulate her, because she fancied me once. You heard her comment about my 'beauty,' did you not?" Thomas asks with a shrug and walks over to a table to start copying the map. "Pray tell, what would you have done with her?" he then asks.

Hannah's expression does not change, nor her words falter. "Given the chance, I would have killed her for the lives she had taken."

"So eager to deal out death, then?" Thomas says, expression unchanged. "Would that return others to life? Can you grant others life as quickly as you would deal death?"

Hannah smiles, but there is no mirth in it. "No, it would not bring back those who lost their lives to her evil enchantments. And no, I am not as bloodthirsty as you might think. But I still believe that death should have been the Witch's punishment. It may not be right or just to harbor such hate against her, but I will not lie about my feelings."

"Careful with hatred, Hannah. Jack could use that against you, you know -- why, offer you the Dark Witch in trade for something. She was a puppet, a pawn. You want to have vengeance, direct it toward the source, Jack, The Destroyer," Thomas comments. "Another question for you, then. Would you kill a wolf if it perhaps slain a villager?"

Hannah considers this. "I might, if I saw that it was inclined to do so again. Why do you ask?"

"So, you would kill something acting true to its nature, then? Kill a wolf for being a wolf, as it were," Thomas says.

"But even if the wolf is being true to its nature, does that mean we should still allow it to kill villagers, as it pleases?" Hannah asks in turn.

"You need not kill something to prevent it from harming others," Thomas replies. "Don't be so ready to use force to solve a problem. Being a Golden Hawk means respecting the culture and behaviors you may experience when travelling, even if they are wrong to you. Don't be so quick to judge. Like the wolf, you know not of the life Elissa may have had before she became the Dark Witch. If you want to learn about things, you can't go around killing them."

"But then, I suppose I have an odd viewpoint, as I lived a great deal in the wild lands during my self-imposed exile from House November," Thomas then adds.

Hannah's face flushes slightly at the reprimand, but she does not turn her gaze away from Thomas. "It is true that I do not know about the life ... Elissa lived before becoming the Dark Witch, but my only glimpses into her character until now have been her cruelty towards others. And if you have been cruel before, it is possible to be so again. Still ... I suppose only time will tell. I still mistrust her, but I will wait and see."

"True enough. Should she choose the path of cruelty again, then I wish all those that hunt her down the best of luck. But, unless she breaks the oath of her own free will, I cannot aid," Thomas replies. "Rash actions you often live to regret, I should know. Anyway, where will you go from here?"

Hannah nods once, then lets the subject of the Witch drop, having spoken her mind. "I'm still determined to become a Golden Hawk, even if the others here think I'm too young for the work," she replies lightly. Then she smiles. "I'm sure my father will have his doubts about this, too, once I finally speak to him again, but I intend to relieve him of them. As much as I can, anyway!"

Thomas nods and says, "I wasn't exactly old when I left House November, you know. Made plenty of mistakes; you've seen one of them. Rather ironic when I look back on it all. I left so I wouldn't have to ever have 'responsibilities'. And here I sit today, founder of an organization and fighting for the very soul of Mirari. If someone told me that back then, I would have laughed." He then shrugs. "Now, as for the matter of you being a Golden Hawk, well..." He taps his fingers on the surface of the table for a moment, then continues, "If they still listen to me, I think you're quite ready for it. You were willing to face unknown dangers without falter and came through with stunning success."

For long moments, Hannah is speechless at this declaration. Then she stammers, "You do? I mean ... you really think I am ready?"

"That is what I said," Thomas replies with a grin. "There was no book when I started out. You have the instinct and drive to do it."

Hannah blushes for the second time, but now it is out of pleasure at hearing Thomas' compliments. "I don't know what to say ... other than 'thank you,' Lord Explorer. This means very much to me."

Thomas raises a hand and says, "'Thomas,' 'Tom,' 'hey you.' 'Lord Explorer' is too formal. And like I said, I don't know if they will listen to me. I know not what authority I still have."

Hannah smiles. "Well, the fact that you found the Witch's hideaway and helped to restore the Golden Woods to safety might have some effect on how they view you! That's something only the Lord Explorer - I'm sorry, that you, Thomas - would be capable of, knowing your talent for Finding Things."

"Sort of like finding the letter here, as well. Drawn to it. But, I may point out you found the chimney," Thomas says, grinning. "Is anyone else around? Any news of Lord November?"

Hannah cuffs Thomas playfully on the shoulder and laughs. "Perhaps your talent is not so much in Finding Things, as it is in having things find you? Or Being in the Right Place at the Right Time?" Then she sobers a bit. "Speaking of the legends, though, I have also noticed that they are repeating themselves. As you said before, the Lady Redmane was trapped in the mortal realm with you and might now return to Mirari. Also, that legend about the founding of the Golden Hawks ... 'Oberia was annoyed for some little time' upon your encounter with the Bandit Queen. Looking at that legend again, I suppose that I took Oberia's place in this re-telling. Odd, but there it is." She looks at Thomas, brow furrowed. "What do you think about all this? Am I wrong to see this meaning in these recent events?"

"Curious, isn't it? I've noted the exact same things. Remember that part with the wolves in the pit? When Lefallon fought the Bandit Queen, there were wolves there, waiting to be fed a damsel. It's a mish-mash of the legends, to be sure. I have my theories on that, but they cannot be uttered here, I'm afraid. The mortal realm has taught me much about the fey realm," Thomas answers, equally sober. "I do wish Lady Redmane was here for I could speak to her of such things. Ah well, perhaps our paths will cross again."

"I will tell you an interesting thing I have learned in the mortal realm. One of the original founders of House February still lives. I know her well. Most fey do not realize how tied to the mortal realm they are," Thomas says. "Tell no one else this information. I am still determining the extent to which we are tied to the mortals."

Hannah looks intensely interested at Thomas's words, but she does not press him further, except to say, "I will do as you ask, but perhaps you will tell me more of this when things are clearer to you?"

"Perhaps. I cannot promise that. Such knowledge could prove dangerous to become commonly known. I also have learned some of the first King of Mirari, Riordan. He had another name, and may yet live. I do intend to return to the mortal realm and follow up on that. In any event, I need to copy these maps and compose a letter to send to Redmane," Thomas answers.

Hannah's eyes flash and she gives Thomas one of her quick, lop-sided grins. "All right, Thomas, make no promises if you must, but if I could get the true story of the Bandit Queen out of you, I may be able to do the same with this other, given the chance!"

Even in this isolated room, the movements and speech of people around Hawksmoor Keep can still be heard, however faintly, and just then there is a change, as if many people were running toward the walls, and then a fanfare of trumpets. Lord November's men have arrived, and it will not be long before he will be able to enter the fortress through the elevator. It's almost certain that the first thing he will want to do will be to see both his daughter and the Explorer who found her, and lifted the curse of the Dark Witch upon the Golden Woods...

"Mayhaps. I can't reveal all my secrets, now can I?" Thomas retorts with a grin. He then turns his attention towards the door. "Well, looks like the letter will have to wait. I believe we have company," he then says and stands, carefully tucking the letter and map safely away. "Come, let us go greet your father. I'm certain he'll want to speak to both of us."

Hannah's head snaps around in the direction of the sound of the trumpets. She breathes in quickly, nervously. "If that isn't a call to face the music, then I don't know what is," she murmurs, a little more light-heartedly than she actually feels. She turns to Thomas and smiles bravely. "Let us go, then. We all certainly have much catching up to do!"

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