Travancore,

I am a sinner. A wretched creature, and I have been conscious of the taint on my soul for decades. I see it in the faces of the holy ones who look upon me with such disdain when once I might have called them comrades.

I have no doubt that this is merely part of the punishment for the heinous wrongs I've done, but in my accelerating age, I grow weary and concerned for my soul. I have sought long for any man endowed with the favor of Nobanion. To my immense regret, it seems none exist in these dismal depths, or else, none have any interest in sparing me from the damnation of the False.

I have made my attempts to do my lot of Good in this Darkened world, but they have been clumsy and misguided.

I do not expect you to offer me guidance. I do not even expect a response back. My only wish of you, is that should you yourself meet one of Nobanion who would aid me, you give him this letter, that at least one other of my faith knows of my existence.

-Reynart Sanas

While no mention is made of where Reynart resides, it is a safe assumption he has legs which allow him to go to common places of drinking and rest. If pressed, the innkeeper would likely describe Reynart as a smelly, dirty man, with antlers.