This letter is written in a bit shaky hand, but the letters are still neat and relatively clear. It seems to be the third in a series of letters.

Finnvi was laying in wait when the rich man finally rounded the corner. She could hear the coins in his purse jingling and clinking together even from her seat on the roof, and wondered if they would feel as warm as the stone in her hand.

Lusseriel was sitting next to the fire in Haldirith. She was the only one awake among her companions as far as she could tell.

She quite enjoyed the calm of the night, and she was quietly humming a song as old as herself when she pulled her journal out of her backpack.

Instant Happiness: Cheese, Bacon, Eggs, Honey, Cakes, Sausages, Biscuits, Vegetables, Mushrooms, Pies, etc. etc. 

“If more of us valued food and cheer above hoarded gold, it would be a much merrier world”

Rogvier entered the emporium. As he did he was assailed by all manner of scents and aromas. The smells of all the spices, soaps, and beard oils, mingling together into a potent but not unpleasant smell that hung heavy in the lungs. The dim lighting of the shop shone on all manner of mechanic all wrapped in fashionable packages and arranged carefully.

Naergon turns pages of all but crumbling parchment with care and he frowns in dissbelief, charmed by the old story that came his way, inspiring, soothing, mysterios and timeless. A story of love, loss, fate and remembrance. A stroy that worths being heard, and dreamed about, again.