Character Development

Roaring fire burning bright,

Dancing merry through the night.

Speech and song run sweet and long,

Everbathed in glowing light.

Gentle fire under star,

Warming trav’lers from lands afar.

Crystal clear ring cries of cheer‿

While flames flick’ring play on logs smoke-charred.

Raging fire blazing bold,

Greedy tongues lick red and gold.

((Content warning - this is a Grimms' style dark fairy tale.))

There once was a forest beyond the edge of night, where three boys went winter-wandering, far from home.  And those three boys came to a cottage, and they were afraid, for there was an evil stench about it and its windows were black.

My armour be restored and returned, and friend Maynard has done passing fine work.  Alas, with every rent and tear that the Breeish smiths repair, I fear its worth and strength be lessened, for there be none in these lands with the craft to fully restore metalwork of such make and quality.  Nevertheless, it be all that can be done for this while - mayhap, if I find a smith of rare talent in my travels, it be possible to full restore it yet.  But of this I have no expectation, and only a bare hope.

Coward

Angrinc sat, and the fruits of his labour were scattered about him.  He glanced toward his mailed gauntlets, soaked in blood and gore, shaking in terror even now that the danger had passed.  He could feel the pounding of his heart, each fierce beat both a welcome relief and cruel reminder of the terror he had felt scarce minutes before.

You’re nothing but a coward

My beloved friend Angrinc, 

Before addressing the content of your letter, I feel moved to express what a consequent pleasure it is to read your fine handwriting and elaborate language. It warms me completely, how you think of me and refer to me with so much kind devotion.