Dear Ivyslar

My name is Casimir Grand, we have met once before, you may recall.

I am writing to you concerning a dispute i have with your organisation regarding payment for a task i completed recently. I don't know if i can get all of the specifics in here, but i'll try. One of your members, a halfling named "Dalebrac" (If i've spelled it wrong i'm sorry, i'm sure there are hardly a great number of halflings in your organisation, given its purpose) denied me my pay after i completed a task regarding the slaughter of a great number of goblins before they could pose a threat to the town. I feel i performed admirably in the task, and was instrumental in the death of their king.

Now, i care little for the coin, but the principle involved disgusts me. He had no right to deny me. He was not even the expeditions leader - i had been appointed such with many, many witnesses present. If this is how all seekers plan to treat the mercenaries with whom you hire to bolster your manpower when needed, then i see no future for you, or any of us in Sanctuary that still wish to look upon the sun again, and no chance of any of us ever getting out of the underdark alive.

However, i realise that not all of your band are as greedy, which is why i appeal to your good nature before anything has to turn ugly. I shall take my issues to the council if need be, but i'd much prefer an alternative.

I am a reasonable man, and as such, i have an offer for you. I shall forego the gold. It means nothing to me, and clearly, your devious halfling has designs on it, and no doubt other adventurers funds in the future. I suggest instead, we play a game of chance. I have a number of ideas which might even be considered beneficial to you and your people. If this interests you, then send me a reply by all means. I much prefer to go routes the easier way. Less chance for accidents to happen.

Signed with a flourish,

Casimir Grand

Casimir Grand,

We've concluded our investigation. Next time don't be so indifferent about the life of a small child.

You can go to hell.

- Seeker Hauksen

(After opening this letter, Casimir smashes the hell out of anything he can find, screaming and bawling noises can be heard plainly by any residents of the crone or drunken tigereyes. Casimir drinks steadily into the day, telling his story to any unfortunate commoner or adventurer that will listen, and whines incessantly about the greed and injustice of the seekers. Finally, after many hours, he calms down, goes to a bulletin board and pats a note he had already placed there fondly, and the smile returns, as he pens the reply and sends it away with an orphan boy) On a tatty piece of paper, scribbled : I'll race you there, you son of a bitch.

(The above done ingame at 4am on the night in question!)