*the illusory projection of Alexander Archibald appears, smiling, atop the pedestal in the Town Hall*

Friends,

Thank you for joining with me today on the occasion of my last address to you, my dear people of Sanctuary. The Archibald family was instrumental in the founding of our Sanctuary, and has played an important role in its preservation for its entire history. It is appropriate that a speech be made, here during this time of crisis.

I will keep my remarks brief, as these are busy times for all of us, and there is much to be done as well as undone in the days to come.

As many of you are doubtless aware, my own private sanctum is lined with tanks which contain the beautiful forms of fish and swimming sharks. They live their lives limited by the panes of glass that enclose their environment. They live, and sleep, while in constant motion but total ignorance of the nature of their prison. Even as I admire their subtle and exotic beauty, they live and die creatures of captivity.

I assure you, Sanctuary is no enclosed aquarium. There is no all powerful keeper or insurmountable walls. It has, for over a century and a half, kept its inhabitants from dying an ignoble death in the darkness of the deadly caves that no surfacer has business living within. Although it has been a prison, it has been a delicate one, and been worth preserving.

Unfortunately, recent events threaten the very existence of it. I am compelled to offer in exchange to the great assistance and entertainment rendered to myself, the following observations:

Four hundred sixty five years ago, something fell into a deep slumber within the vastness of the ruins of Dunwarren. It was said by the maddened and corrupted gnomes that tended to it, that only when the very last gnome that opposed its domination was flung into its gaping maw, would it awaken, and return to its rule. This has been pursued with single-minded purpose ever since, a terrible saga that Sanctuary has participated in unknowingly for all this time.

One hundred fifty two years ago, two brothers quarreled about the purpose of a new town they founded. One, influenced by a beautiful women and the happiness she brought him, wished to preserve it at any cost. The other, wished to abandon it, and seek right and proper passage to the surface world above. The consequences of this brotherly argument are still being played out.

Thirty years ago, one illithid cheated another in an important gladiatorial contest deep within the depths of Ysinode. The cheated illithid was exiled, the cheater rose to great prominence within the hierarchy of that city - and so, a great rivalry was born. The intrigues of this rivalry, and the subtle genius that ultimately led to its conclusion, can not be fully grasped by any mammalian mind. Although the people of Sanctuary played an important role on behalf of the victorious illithid, the consequences of the final resolution has been severe. No longer will certain mutually favorable relationships which preserved the majority of Sanctuary at the cost of the tolerable absence of a certain carefully collected few exist. No longer will a great and powerful defender of the town be allowed to exist and continue its shadowed vigil.

Three years ago, citizens from Sanctuary were instrumental in the freeing of the dread Ghaunadauran lich Temrariel from its prison deep below the declining drow city of Traensyr. Subsequently, the allied forces of Ghaunadauran rebels and agents from Sanctuary were able to bind together its knucklebones and return them to him, enacting a ritual that returned to him much of the power that had been stripped from him by the matron mothers. Temrariel was able to destroy Matron Jhael'nyihr of Traensyr, an act which plunged the drow city into a state of war that has only ended within the very recent past. Now united, the drow are in a position to turn their attention to threats and opportunities beyond their walls.

These four observations are but four of a thousand that I could share. But it would be all to easy to list the litany of mistakes that has brought Sanctuary to its present and ever so dire state. Instead, I wish to offer one final historical observation, and then lay out the options before you.

Almost two years ago, Alexander Archibald decided to, of his own free will, seek assistance in the murder of his his father's older brother. An arrangement was made, and he succeeded, and Alexander rose to become Lord of the Archibald family. For a time he enjoyed the privileges of the ranks and power bestowed upon him, but for a year and a half, he has been in a state of far greater bliss. His body floats now within the recesses of the Sleeping Pyrimo just as my sharks do. His mind, such as it is, is incapable of doing nothing now other than experiencing contented joy. He has been my guest under terms reached between the two of us...

*flickers into the image of the notorious mindflayer Intryzz*

.... and I am happy to report that we both have been most satisfied.

Please allow me to finish my speech. I offer my last gift, so listen carefully.

There are four options before you.

The first, is to die as free men, standing - at last - on your own two feet. The protectors of Sanctuary are gone, and the day of reckoning is soon. Can its people survive against the horrors that assemble, or will they fall? This question has yet to be resolved. It may be that all the might of the Underdark can be turned by courageous, free men wielding steel.

The second, is to awaken the appetite which slumbers beneath. Its nature is unknown even to myself, but perhaps if embraced it could be a new protector against the dangers beyond the walls.

The third, is to hide. The Underdark is vast. Other, mostly neutral, settlements exist. Despite 150 years of history, the ruins of Dunwarren have yet to be fully explored by any Sanctuary man. New homes could perhaps be settled deep and hidden away by unlocked svirfneblin sorcery.

The fourth, is to take the path of Alexander Archibald. I am a hated exile among my kind, unique in that I feel compassion for the pitiful nature of your lives. I offer an end to the pain. Sweet bliss and happy dreams await all that seek the tanks of my lair, the Sleeping Pyrimo. I offer it freely to all who wish to visit me. Surrender to me your freedom, and I shall take the pain away.

I thank you for your time, and the delight that you have offered me for all these years.