Evan TammIndex | HomePage | PlayerCharacters | EvanTamm  My dear Evan, It is my hope that this reaches you before you leave Lannisport, though the summer snows melt quickly, and the roads quickly become rivers of mud. Knowing you, you will already be travelling - you have never been one to wait. Affairs go well here - a long summer has made for fat livestock, full larders, and much merrymaking of an evening. You would have enjoyed yourself here these past years, I think. But the first snows have people going about business as usual. The herds are coming in, the basements are being filled with grain, and roofs repaired and walls daubed. Marshend has grown since you last saw it. As winter falls, it will only get bigger. It will never be a busy town, of course - so few ever come here, which is why I asked you to stay so many years ago. I pray for another short winter - I'm not sure an old woman like me can deal with so many people in one place for so long. But enough with pleasantries. You were never patient, Evan, and I would not test that limited patience now. I know you want to return. I read your note, and I cannot fault your heart or your courage. All I can do is beg you not to. You are still so young, even though you have seen so much, and I feel that the gods have not ordained this path for you. Your lot is greater, I think, than a nameless death in the snows. The will-o' wisps have been sighted again in the swamps, and some say that even the fish in the Long Lake have begun to show signs of winter. Farman says he caught an albino trout from the pier the other day, blind and pale as a ghost. I had hoped, when you first went south, that you would find yourself a post in some lord's household, or in a thriving city, and prosper. Perhaps find yourself a sweet-natured girl with an even temper, to keep you in check and raise your children. I see now that it was perhaps a bit much to hope for, but again, you are still young. There is much ahead of you, and I fear to see you cast all that aside for a bleak, short existence on the Wall. Life in the Night's Watch is for desperate men, bastards and criminals, not for one such as yourself. I am not your mother, Evan, but I have always wished the best for you. When I set you on your way south those years ago, I told you not to be afraid; that you were strong, and smart, and a survivor, and would prosper anywhere in Westeros. You listened to me then - I can only pray that you will listen to me now, and stay in the summerlands while the winter chills close in. Septa Mariam of Marshend *** My Lord Damon Marbrand of Ashemark, It is with regret that I must formally announce my departure from your service. I have been very grateful to be in your employ these past two years, and it is not without regret that I take my leave of Ashemark. You have been a gracious master, and are at least owed an explanation. You mentioned that I seemed displeased after the Mournhold campaign, but I assure you that has nothing to do with my decision. Rather, it is something simpler - the first summer snows have fallen in the North, and I must go home. It is hard to explain such things to those not from the North. Even in our times of plenty, we are aware that the snows and the killing cold wait to take such prosperity away. For us, the dangers of winter are far more than desperate wildlings, fierce blizzards, and packs of hungry wolves. They are far more than old wives' tales of the Others. Winter itself is the enemy in the North, an enemy that is turned back only by hot blood and courage, and sacrifice. My kind have never been the type to huddle by the fire and hope the winter away. I cannot sit here in my Lord's opulent household while my people fight, freeze and die. I know you have feared that others in your service might follow my lead and travel with me - I have led them since the battles at Miledown, when I entered your Lordship's service, and they have a certain affection for me. But I think you underestimate the riches of your Lordship's house - only a few will join me, and life on the Wall is harsh and unkind, devoid of pleasure. I do not think any will take the vows once they see it, and I will be sure to send them back to Ashemark. But for myself, it is my intention to return to my homeland and take the black, serving my people as best I can. Wish me well, my lord, for as the Starks say, Winter is Coming. Evan Tamm |
