Untold Tales RPG

Dear Steward,

I am alive, and little the worse for wear. Though we are still confused as to how we found ourselves in such dire straights, Rider Karigan can fill you in on the working theory, which is too distasteful to put down in ink.

I am sorry that I left you without an assistant, and I am sure you are quite upset at this development, as am I. If it pleases you to know, I was not accosted or otherwise abused.

In reality, it has not sunk in yet. I wear a mask, so that the others can remain calm, though this nagging bit of fear rests in the pit of my stomach, for my safety, and for others.

(the following is written hastily, at the very bottom)

I long for the warmth of your arms, and the heat of your breath upon my neck. Your lips haunt my dreams, and the memory of your body against mine keeps me strong, though we've not shared in the joys of such union.

Lay claim to me, Boromir, when I return, until the sheets are soaked through with our sweat and the echoes of our cries fall silent. Lay claim to me, until my nails have drawn patterns on your back, and your fingers have left bruises in my silky skin.

~Miriel