My Lord,
It saddens me that I cannot say my goodbyes to you personally and I am grateful to the officer who offered to handle you my letter when you will visit again or when the next warriors depart for the moors.
I changed much during this years when I called the halls of the Hammer my home. Some wounds healed, some others, new, shaped me differently. Forgive me for not being able to gather myself enough to be of use any longer. While I always imagined the call of the sea will reach to me at some point, never have I imagined its intensity nor the emptiness and blandness everything around seems to have coated itself into, with such little warning.
I will go meet this fate too, with as much courage as mixed feelings. I hope to find someone on the other shore, waiting for me, a fool's hope most likely but a hope none the less. I cannot resist not hoping.
While on this shore my oath will still bind me. On the other friendships and respect will bine me not weaker. May we meet again, my Lord, and may I ever be able to thank you for your generosity and wisdom
Farewell for now
Iseril Naergon,
