[Addressed to “The Council”, but there is only one letter. It is delivered in game by proxy to the admin department]

Dear Councillors,

Normally I wouldn’t consider correspondence between our parties appropriate, considering that you have put such a substantial bounty on my head. However, I have become aware of an issue of such grave importance, I felt compelled to cross the burning bridge to tell you about it.

As you would know if you have been reading the Watch reports, I have been spending most of my retirement time in our sewer system, cleansing it of the unwanted sorts that tend to coalesce there. I have slain a large number of malcontents, rebels and criminals. You might be surprised at the diversity of species down here, from minotaurs to gnolls to orogs. You received the last drow head I sent up, I believe? Mostly these are just disorganised curmudgeons without organisation or agenda.

Although usually I feel capable of tackling these threats on my own, without your assistance, I feel compelled to request aid on a specific matter. This dark I encountered an elf, who did not introduce himself by name. I learned quickly that he was a follower of the drow slime god, Ghaunadaur. There is an old, disused temple in the depths of the sewers, as I am sure you are aware.

While I tried to question him about his god and the numbers of his faithful (all the while tightening my grip on my axe) I found that I was surrounded by gelatinous cubes of truly prodigious size. They oozed out of cracks in the walls, putting me in dire peril. I was able to talk my way out of this particular scrape, but I suspect this challenge may be beyond the capacity of one man.

I know you are strapped for resources, but if you could see fit to put down the occasional patrol, preferably with spellguard support, it might benefit Sanctuary in the long term. In the mean time, I will continue my vigil, and report any more details that I find.

- A. Y.