My Son, Word's reached us all the way in Windhelm of your glories in battle. Heard you cut your way through twenty Orcs and drove the rest of 'em to flee when you took the head of their warlord in one swipe! I always knew you'd take after me, leading the charge. Makes an old Nord proud. I'd be right there next to you cleaving through those Covenant dogs but for this damned leg of mine. Keep count for your mother and me! Kyne watch over you. We'll be ready for great feasting on your return.
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