A cold cell in a colder tower. The stone beneath him was slick with blood. The taunting cries of his jailors echoed off the walls and around his head like a nightmare from which he could not wake. 

She had felt someone take her hand more than once in her restless sleep. She heard multiple voices speaking to her at different times. Though her mind was a haze which mostly consisted of terrible dreams, she could feel their worry. They cared about what happened to her.

She wasn't sure when it happened, but the evening came when she was able to crack open her eyes. Her brain seemed more foggy than it had while she slept and the light from the fireplace stung her eyes.

(Finally moved under the appropriate character)

Anna tore off a piece of meat from the now roasted pheasant she and the Ranger she traveled with had caught earlier with a old book open in her lap she had brought along. One of the numerous tomes her family posessed about Angmar and it's various cults that were known outside of the innermost circles of those wicked folk.

Greetings, Lady Northgyth,

I hope this letter finds you well.