My good friend Rashkan:
I am writing you because of the great pleasure it gives me to talk to you and because it has been a long time since our paths have crossed. Weeks ago, perhaps a little over a month, I arrived in this land of Forochel. As I may have told you on another occasion, I do not remember it well, I had until then served the Wardens of Annúminas in Evendim, and though that too was a land of adventures and curious places, I had never before enjoyed a journey so much until I came to Forochel.
For this is, my friend, a wild land, where trees do not grow (do not try to get wood here for your handicrafts, you will not find any), though it is not devoid of beauty:
The silence that one has as one's only companion during long journeys across the snowy plains, or on the opposite, the roar of an ice and snow storm that almost prevents one from hearing one's own thoughts,
The calm of a clear morning, with the whole bay in sight and the Lossoth waking up and making preparations for the day's fishing; the imbibing of the culture of a people so hardy and yet mistrustful, that will eventually win you over with their customs and way of being, and even accept you as one of them all.
I hope that these words create in you the illusion and the spirit with which I write them, and to conclude, as I am running out of paper, I will tell you, as advice:
Wrap up warm!
From my humble (and warm) home,
Ufedarr
7 Chestnut street, Balwich, Bree.
