It was not common for Ryheric to receive letters these days. Few who knew him had any idea where he was. So, after a long few days out at the lumber mill near Combe, it was with a wary sidelong glance he accepted a note addressed to him at the bar.
The companions he'd grown close to over the last two years were far away in Gondor. A lurking numbness formed in his gut. The warrior's calloused fingertips found purchase on the warm, chalky paper. That numb feeling rode the expectation that someone he cared about had died.
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