thhhheeeeeeeeeggoddeads

thejskgimacaaneedabcascaeane

[There's a pause, before Athelstan finally switches over to video. His breath is coming in shuddery gasps, and he's obviously... not well. There are bruises and lacerations scattered across what's visible of his face, healing black eyes, small cuts draped across his forehead. There's not much to see from the chin down though, as the rest of him is covered in an old monk robe, vastly different from the patchwork leathers he had been known to wear before.

Frankly, he looks a bit like hell, but he keeps the video feed pointed toward his torso and face, his arms and legs decidedly out of the picture.]

-I'm sorry, [he manages to breathe softly, before refocusing and forcing a slight smile.] My writing seems to have suffered in my absence.

[There's another pause, before-]

The gods found me again and took me, but they neglected the crook I had been using. I- [He winces, disliking to ask, but...] -I need assistance to get back to my home. I can't... walk without it.

[Which is embarrassing enough. He opens his mouth then, as if to say something more, but he thinks better of it before long and shuts off the video- revealing a heavily bandaged hand, for just a split moment before the feed cuts off.]