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Molly Bayberry
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re: The Adventures of Sandy Gorseleaf

Dear Mum and Dad,

This will maybe be a surprise to you, but then again, maybe not. I never was content all this time growing up, and I know I caused you no end of trouble. I wish I could have been more useful, like Sally and Matt, or more biddable like the young ones, but there’s something in me that bothers me, and makes me despise the farm, and my destiny there.

So I’ve left, for good this time, not like the other times. I’m going to try to get to the coast and get on a ship. I’ve dressed up like a young man for safety, so don’t fret about that. And I’m strong, I can work hard. Some captain will be willing to take me on.

I’m sorry for causing you so much grief, and I hope your lives will be easier with me gone, although I know you do love me. As I love you. I’ll write more as I can.

Yours,
Sandy

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Last edited by Molly Bayberry on 2024/02/09 6:43 pm; edited 3 times in total


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Molly (Mornawen) Bayberry, Assistant Archivist of Bree

Also Sandy Gorseleaf of Clan Etal
Molly Bayberry
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re: The Adventures of Sandy Gorseleaf

Vendors in Bree were setting up their stands as Sandy entered the town, seeking the scribe’s shop near the boar fountain. She’d left Pint and Grace back at the Comb and Wattle, presumably sleeping off the previous night’s celebration, but she hoped to return before they noticed her absence.

“Ho, Sandy-lad,” said Bob Scrivener. “Good morning! Here to write another letter to your folks?”

Sandy nodded. “Will a rider be heading out today?” She sat at a table furnished with writing materials.

“Yes, Fred will be leaving soon for Trestlebridge. Hurry up with the letter.”

Taking up a quill, Sandy tried to gather her thoughts. So much had happened this week, from the adventure in the spider-cave, to the hunting of brigands, to the venture over the marshlands. How could she manage to set it all down into a letter? And then there was the matter of her companions.

It was Lizbeth and the hobbit lass they met earlier who had got the word out about Pientovail and his gangly companion Sandy looking for help. Grace had appeared in the pub one morning, finely garbed and bearing two long swords. She was a young woman, only a few years older than Sandy– perhaps around Pint’s age, but she bore herself with confidence, and a habit of command. “Grace O’Malley” she called herself, or something close to that. Sandy wondered at the strange pronunciation, and at Grace’s garb and mannerisms, but Pint accepted her at once as a fellow adventurer. “I wish he weren’t always so amenable to the ladies,” Sandy frowned at the memory.

But of course Grace was an invaluable help on the task they undertook in the marshes– at the big, evil goblin camp her deft swordplay took care of the two big chieftains, as Pint’s bow picked off the stragglers. Sandy herself had managed to knife a goblin in the back, her first time slaying anything but chickens. All in all, an easy victory– with a disappointingly small reward, alas. Barely enough for the dinner meal and ale.

And then there was Pientovail, himself, to explain. He seemed a young, carefree adventurer, merry enough at times. But his tale to her had barely covered his childhood. She realized that he’d known hunger and want, and likely worse, in his time. It was more than Sandy, as a child of a prosperous yeoman farmer near Bree, could imagine. And there was a shadow on him when he heard of the brutalized dogs in the Chetwood, a cold fury in his eyes. And he was tender with the hobbits of Staddle and their silly concerns.

“Why Sandy, you haven’t written a thing!” exclaimed Bob. “Fred can’t wait, he must be off.”

Sandy sighed. “Well, never mind, then. ‘Twas only a twinge of homesickness that made me want to write, after all. Thank you anyways, Master Scrivener.” She left the shop and headed through the now-busy market and back towards Combe.


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Molly (Mornawen) Bayberry, Assistant Archivist of Bree

Also Sandy Gorseleaf of Clan Etal
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re: The Adventures of Sandy Gorseleaf

Hooray for new adventures! Go, Sandy, go!
Molly Bayberry
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re: The Adventures of Sandy Gorseleaf

After helping solve the problem of the foolish hobbit, Falco, Sandy led her companions into Bree-town. Although the Gorseleaf family farm lay miles outside the town, on the road northwards to Trestlebridge, there was still a chance her father or brother Matt would be in town on an errand. They entered the Prancing Pony and she looked around quickly– but saw no Gorseleaves.

Quote:
Sandy said, ‘Mister Butterbur, hullo!’ She nodded to Pint and Grace, 'The Butterburs have been running this inn forever.'
The three drank to Barliman Butterbur's health.
Pint licked the froth from his stubble, remarking, 'They must do a good business to be in business that long.'
Grace added, 'They make good ale, that's fer sure.'

They took a few moments to rest and enjoy the tasty ale.
Pint said, 'Nice sword ya got there, Grace.'
Grace grinned and patted her swords, one on each hip, 'Which one?'
Pint answered, 'The sabre?'
Grace nodded. 'Thank'ee. It was a gift, an' has served me well.'
Pint was thoughtful. 'A fine gift. A blade like that must have its own tale.'
Curious in her turn, Grace asked, 'Who made yer bow? Looks like good handywork.'
Pint, 'Actually, I found it in an abandoned mine when I was shipwr--- well, I found it.'
Grace said, "Ah," knowingly.
Pint quickly finished his drink. 'I guess we should see about this Strider fella.'


Sandy hoped that her companions would leave Bree-land soon, and take her with them. Her dagger was just a farm tool, really, with no history nor handywork to speak of, and she wasn’t sure how much her assistance was worth. Still, her sharp eyes had helped find things, and spot dangers– and her shouts distracted the goblins sometimes.

She sighed, longing to reach the coast and see the great ocean in the west.


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Molly (Mornawen) Bayberry, Assistant Archivist of Bree

Also Sandy Gorseleaf of Clan Etal
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