Mourn Caluadra, dressed in Seeker uniform, asks some of the older (and saner) residents who were alive during the rebellion what they know of the illustrious founder Alexander Ubel, and if anything of his still exists in Sewer Town. He also enquires with the "noted historian" of the town (After assuring him he is not a Spellguard assassin in disguise) if he has any of Alexander's original writings.

There are no Sewer Townsmen who recall Alexander Ubel- after enquiry, Gran Ubel is the only one who may possibly know about him, and after a question or two her eyes glaze over in an odd melancholy, and she makes a short quip and returns to cleaning her counter. After a long, excruciating discussion with Jum, he replies that he may just have an item that Mourn is looking for, sold to him for a considerable amount from a buyer many years ago. He pulls out an ancient looking scroll of Zurkh paper, written in an old and precise script. It reads:

The Truth About Sanctuary By Alexander Ubel

I write by flickering candelight, amidst liars and thieves, traitors and murders of the worst order. My waking hours and ruled by fears of sharpened knives and my sleep is troubled with dreams- terror at the revelations that have been forced upon me. Our city is called Sanctuary, but it is anything but. A grand betrayal has occurred, which I will chronicle shortly and hope that it falls into able hands. The Commander of the Spellguard, Melinda Bresley has long been enthralled by the dread Illithid of Ysinode, and she has extended her grasp to her brother and my good friend Charles Bresley. The conspiracy runs deep, and their murder of Frederick only proves to vindicate my beliefs: Our government, those who set out to save us from the terrors of slavery has been seized by they who we thought we had escaped from. But I write to you, intrepid wanderer not without hope. Perhaps there may be a time in the future when a settlement may arise free of the chains of bondage which lie around my legs and ankles. I write this not for idle desire for prophecy, nor fear of the foes which surround me; but instead for the love of those of whom have not yet been taken. I urge you, with trembling hand are frightful heart to flee into the dank, glum corridors that stand beneath our City, wretched and dank as it is. Flee, and live free. SEWER TOWN FOREVER.

Mourn gives Jum a half smile upon seeing the document and examines the text, after paying him the few gold pieces he can spare. He reads the writing several time, attempting to discern whether or not all of it was written by the same hand. After some time, he transcribes a copy for himself, and thanks Jum in his usual reserved manner and asks him to send word should he happen upon more of Alexander's work.