Hello father, I am writing this letter to you to tell you about the farm and an interesting man who came by.

  He came like the wind and begged for any scraps of food I had, and as the Lyra, Goddess of peace teaches, I gave him a decent meal and a few pieces of copper coin.

  He thanked me and quietly prayed to Oria for me, praying near silently that I would have a bountiful harvest.

  He went off on his way and left me a strange object even though I profusely insisted that he keep it, he thrust it into my hands and began to speed off.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  I stored it under the bed with my other mementos that I've gained over the years.

  Anyway, the farm is doing quite well, although the drought has been getting worse under the years, the harvest this year should be sufficient to make it to the next year at least. I hope you are doing well over Ylongdal, I know losing mother has been hard for you, but stay strong father.

  Love, James Barkley.

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  Sent In the 525th year of the Alluminus Imperial Calendar