The harvest was almost ready to go and he planned to be out there with his people helping to get all of the food ready and stored well before the first snow fell. They already had plenty of fishing done, being a coastal fief, and that would supplement their supplies.
It was already starting to get cold of an evening. Charlie rose from his heavy oak desk and tossed another piece of wood into the fireplace before returning to his letter writing. He had a stack of letters written for people within Tortall, progress reports and private letters to King Jonathan, five letters to Alanna that he felt were too out of date now to send, a chess move to Gary, some letters that were more advisory statements to key members of the regular army which he'd been asked to provide and a filthy joke to Raoul that really shouldn't have been put in written form.
Some letters were going to have to travel further once he was done with them. It was a quiet night, and he didn't have anywhere of importance to be tomorrow, so he sat scratching his pen away by candlelight, preparing letters to folks back home. His cell phone was tucked away in his locked second drawer. It hadn't been used in so long he forgot about it sometimes, but tonight he was over-conscious about it, probably because he was thinking of home.
[OOC: Open for SP letters or phone calls!]