Book Two Letter Twenty-Four

My Dearest Nephew,

It has come to my attention (and indeed was dropped on my very cave-step) that I have been once again formally invited to a war council in the South. The summons was most intriguing, saying that we should soon be “tacking dyrekt akshun n thee curnt stake of wor” which I take in translation to mean that we shall soon be taking direct action in the current state of war. Isn’t it clever of the council to write their letters in such a magnificent code? Any other eyes might see it as the ghastly misspellings of a fool, but those to whom the letters are sent are trusted to decode the summons ourselves and must rise to this challenge.

The Wyrm he wanders to and fro,

The Wyrm he wanders high and low,

The Wyrm is ever wandering,

The Wyrm is truly Wanderking

          Do accept my apologies for this brief interruption, nephew, my goatly friend has lately mastered our written language and is writing poetry on whatever paper his hooves can reach. I merely took a second away from the letter to finish off my tea, but when I returned, he had added in a verse on the Wanderwyrm right in the middle of the page. However, this is not truly a great tragedy as his poetry is not all that bad and his hoof-writing is truly spectacular!

          Anyway, back to my story. The missive informs me that I shall be brought to the meeting place once again as I was before by delegates of the council and from there we shall discuss our next move.

          I shall write to you again when the meeting is over and I can discuss it in detail. Until then, I must remind you once again that these letters are in the strictest confidence and should you ever divulge any of the details to another Dragon…I am not really sure what would happen actually. I wouldn’t do anything about it, but the council would most likely be displeased and send their delegates out for you.

          Farewell until the next letter,

          -Your humble servant, mentor and uncle,

                   Semithino

The Wyrm is King of wandering,

The Wyrm of whom we now do sing,

He wanders here, he wanders there,

The Wyrm doth wander everywhere