Yule Letters

In the paladins quarters of Trinsic the candle guttered with the breeze from a cracked shutter. Drea looked up, a slight smile curving her lips before she went back to the quill in her hand and the parchment before her. Some might think it odd that an elven paladin would chose to spend most of her time with the mortals in Trinsic, but for Drea it had always been thus.

On her home shard of Mugien the elves were all but extinct. They had chosen to join with the humans forces rather than secluding themselves. Oddly enough, the scant number of elves had lead to more purity in the blood lines. They might work with the humans but there were still elves, and kept true to their heritage.

That same pride in her heritage, and faith in her own abilities took Drea far. She enjoyed rank and command, and was extremely satisfied with the work she and those that served under her went about. Unfortunately, in the last hundred years, particular things began to happen politically that cost Drea much of her credibility. Her rank lost, her titles taken, she reverted to more of a simple ranger type. Instead of setting up scale maneuvers against different bandits and warring guilds, she would hunt down the most difficult bounties alone. However she was being cut off from even that by the political forces at work.

She could no longer serve Justice where she was, and it would only be a matter of time before her disrepute would start to affect the lives of her son and mate. Sadly Drea moved on to other realms, trying to escape the lies that simply were not being forgotten.

In her wanderings Drea had met another elf maid, a far cry from a paladin but a worthy fighter all the same. They had met in a tavern in the elven village of Eldador in the Pacific realms. The younger elf had been pert and merry, and yet at the same time amazingly cynical for one so young.

Despite some of their differences the two had become fast friends spending their time together hunting, verbally sparring different theologies, and telling tales of the different realms they had traveled to. It had been the fond reminisces of her home lands than had cause Drea to travel to Lake Superior.

And so here she was, writing yet another letter back home to her lover and son. She had some hopes that if she stayed away long enough that perhaps the slander of her name would fade and she could return once more. Yule season was for some reason easier rather than herder for her to accept the distances between them. No matter where one might find themselves the traditions were remarkably the same.

Even in the spartan strict paladins quarters some of the younger trainees had hung boughs of pine and holly sprigs over the door ways. The Commanders seemed to have chosen to simply not noticed them rather than ordering them removed.

From some where outside the walls Drea's elf ears picked up the call of a wolf. Her smile broadened a bit as she went back to work on her letter.

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> In the paladins quarters of Trinsic the candle guttered with the breeze from a cracked shutter. Drea looked up, a slight smile curving her lips before she went back to the quill in her hand and the parchment before her. Some might think it odd that an elven paladin would chose to spend most of her time with the mortals in Trinsic, but for Drea it had always been thus. > On her home shard of Mugien the elves were all but extinct. They had chosen to join with the humans forces rather than secluding themselves. Oddly enough, the scant number of elves had lead to more purity in the blood lines. They might work with the humans but there were still elves, and kept true to their heritage. > That same pride in her heritage, and faith in her own abilities took Drea far. She enjoyed rank and command, and was extremely satisfied with the work she and those that served under her went about. Unfortunately, in the last hundred years, particular things began to happen politically that cost Drea much of her credibility. Her rank lost, her titles taken, she reverted to more of a simple ranger type. Instead of setting up scale maneuvers against different bandits and warring guilds, she would hunt down the most difficult bounties alone. However she was being cut off from even that by the political forces at work. > She could no longer serve Justice where she was, and it would only be a matter of time before her disrepute would start to affect the lives of her son and mate. Sadly Drea moved on to other realms, trying to escape the lies that simply were not being forgotten. > In her wanderings Drea had met another elf maid, a far cry from a paladin but a worthy fighter all the same. They had met in a tavern in the elven village of Eldador in the Pacific realms. The younger elf had been pert and merry, and yet at the same time amazingly cynical for one so young. > Despite some of their differences the two had become fast friends spending their time together hunting, verbally sparring different theologies, and telling tales of the different realms they had traveled to. It had been the fond reminisces of her home lands than had cause Drea to travel to Lake Superior. > And so here she was, writing yet another letter back home to her lover and son. She had some hopes that if she stayed away long enough that perhaps the slander of her name would fade and she could return once more. Yule season was for some reason easier rather than herder for her to accept the distances between them. No matter where one might find themselves the traditions were remarkably the same. > Even in the spartan strict paladins quarters some of the younger trainees had hung boughs of pine and holly sprigs over the door ways. The Commanders seemed to have chosen to simply not noticed them rather than ordering them removed. > From some where outside the walls Drea's elf ears picked up the call of a wolf. Her smile broadened a bit as she went back to work on her letter.
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