[A sealed letter for Henry Whitecloak has been left at the Crone.]

Henry,

You are bold. I will give you that. Trying to have me killed was not the wisest of choices, and as a result your friends paid the ultimate price. I told you playing the fool did not suit you.

Even so, I'm willing to overlook your mistake. Know that there are many people hunting you already. You can hide all you want, but you can only hide for so long. At this very moment you are a dead man walking. You know this.

And yet, with a word, I can save your life. I can prevent you from suffering the same fate as your guild members. I have questions that only you can answer. I offered you an alliance once, that offer may still stand if you can convince me that you can be trusted. Trying to have me killed, and then lying after refusing to cooperate are two strikes against you.

You have very little to bargain with. All you have is the knowledge within your head. I've killed at least half of your guild in a single blow. I have enough keys to distribute to both the Watch and the Spellguard, as well as information of the activities that have taken place.

Though those keys need not fall into their hands if you cooperate. Oh, and trying to have me killed again will only ensure such a thing will happen. I've made sure that extra keys have been given out to those loyal to me. So if I turn up missing, there is little hope for you.

I am your only hope. Everything you have built, everything that you are rests in my hands. Even as you read this there are those seeking you. They know who you are, they know what you look like, they know where you hide. If they find you first, then your fate is out of my hands. Come to me, and I may save you. If you are particularly lucky and find yourself in my good graces, I may extend the alliance to you once more.

You have little choice in this. Leave a note informing me of your decision.

Signed, Sir Melrick, Knight of House Toboerski

[a reply is penned]

Melrick,

I never sought to harm you in any fashion. Jones overstepped his place, and issued an order to the incompetent Gaerick. I did not know of this until it was too late.

Still.

All men are born dead men walking. I yet live, a fact owed to the incompetence displayed by you and your hired muscle. And while I yet live, I'm going to seek to better my lot in life, at the expense of others, as I always have. Specifically, you.

You call me bold, yet storm -one- of my hideouts with a band of idiodic thugs. I have many more besides. The same applies to underlings.

You claim I've little to bargain with. Again, your assumption proves to be ill-founded. I still command many, and as I pen this message, I'm surrounded by more wealth than your insolent eyes could ever hope to glimpse.

You are not my only hope, nor do I have no choice but to fawn at your feet, as you alledge. Your brash assault, while undeniably damaging, was far from a mortal blow to what I have built, and what I plan.

Needless to say, you'll be killed for your hand in the assault. Keep well until then. Enjoy what is left of your life. Go on a splurge, dine and wine to your fullest, ask out that woman you were too afraid to approach, see some sights and do the things you always wanted to, yet didn't, bound by inhibitions as you were.

I hope, with every fibre of my being, that you do as I suggest. You'll feel more wholesome for it, before the end.

Best regards,

Henry Whitecloak.

[Melrick chuckles and rips of Whitecloak's note before writing a reply.]

Dearest Henry,

I do not fear a man that I have already beaten. Your broken body was laid at my feet once, and I shall see it at my feet once again. For this very reason I find your arrogance most amusing.

Feel free to run and hide. Take shelter within the ruins and the caves of the Underdark. You will simply die among your kind: the rats.

Signed, Melrick

[the missive is received, no reply sent]