Blade Maidens: Strays – 6
I write to you, on a misty morning overlooking the field of battle. The scent of blood still hangs low in the air. The sound of steel-on-leather as the greediest of the sellsword companies root through the dead for valuables. As this macabre sight greets me, all I can think of is the lives lost. The weight of their absence in the world, taken by blade and will in the name of–oh for Keen’s sake I can’t even take the piss out of you without getting sick of this overwrought trash.
Honestly, little brother. It’s gotten OLD.
The first few ballads, sure, who doesn’t love a good tear-jerker? You get a crowd to start crying, you’re set for the night. But I finished up a gig in Valfald last and was asked to play your TWELFTH ballad about some sad prick with a sword. I almost walked out on the spot. Just–ANYTHING, Percy!! A raunchy foot-stomper, something skewering some petty baron, a fucking cloying sonnet. I don’t care, I just can’t keep working with Havensbrook being a name most associated with slogs that make me want to jump in a lake.
You’re hurting us all more than anyone in your last few songs has suffered.
Anyways. Hope things are going well. Have you heard from mom lately? Last time I saw her she was moving a bit slower than usual and I’m a bit worried. She always listened to you more than me, so, maybe go check in on her? I don’t want her ending up like Grandad, she needs to step back at some point. I’ve got to keep this short, caravan’s heading for a sandstorm. Love you, little brother. Even if they’re the most depressing things I’ve ever heard, I’m proud to hear you doing the family name proud. Always knew you had it in you.