Posted prominently outside the Town Hall
The amazingly complicated web of intrigue, power networks and other variables which kept our city mysteriously and precariously safe from the overwhelming might of our dread neighbors in Traensyr, Chabzash and Ysinode has eroded.
Any moment, and I do mean -any moment-, the drow vanguard could arrive at our gates, protected by a few under-equipped men and little else. Their assassins will enter the city unchecked, slaying our leadership in their sleep or at their posts while drow armsmen and wizards, as well as the commanding priestesses of the evil Spider Queen, smash to pieces our pitiful gates and slaughter without mercy our defenders. In half an hour, half of our entire city would be slain and the others cast in the chains we fear above all things.
At any moment the illithid of Ysinode, whose power is such they they could and did enthrall our powerful protector Etorix, could open up a portal and send through their endless thrall battalions. Mindless ogres, orogs, goblins, minotaurs and other vicious monsters will roam our streets, raping and killing with wantonly glee until our forces are all gone, and then our women and children will be enslaved again, destined to a life worse than even the most painful of deaths.
Notwithstanding this, the Chosen and the beholders of Chazbash are mysteriously quiet for the moment, speaking to sinister deeds and portents for the rest of us.
Don't you understand, Sanctuary? We are finished. We are done. At any second hence we will all be wiped out. Armageddon is the reality of the day, and it will come on swift wings at any moment. The most terrible foes of the Underdark converge on our pathetic settlement and their thirst for conquest and profit will not be slaked until every last one of us has perished or been cast into heavy steel manacles.
But there is a way open to us.
The last hidden settlement of the gnomes, deep within the depths of Dunwarren, secret and defensible, was a place where we could escape to and find refuge from the doom that approaches. The Seekers found this place first, and did ask the gnomes for sanctuary beyond their gates. The gnomes refused them, saying they needed more time- time we did not have, and never will until we have left this place. The Seekers, people of good heart all, left these gnomes and came back, waiting for their answer yet in turn chancing our total destruction.
I did another thing. I did what a good person would not do, but I did it for a good reason. I came to the gates of this secret place, and I treated with the gnomish leader, pleading for sanctuary and safety, telling him of that which comes for us all. Coldly I was rebuffed. We must understand that the gnomes are a cowardly, xenophobic people who care little for our plight, and are content as they always have been to stay hidden away, aloof to all. The Seekers would surely have received the same answer, delayed however as it might have been. The simple fact is that 400 deep gnomes, the last of Dunwarren, would not allow thousands of strange, violent and foolish surfacers to walk through their gates.
Realizing this when their leader condemned us all with reserved, uncaring dismissal, I did what the Seekers would not. In a fierce battle, their city was slain down to the last gnome and their settlement was thus secured for our own people to escape to. There is food, water, shelter, defensible gates and other resources for us to use. A much more promising new beginning than our founders ever had privilege to.
Beyond this secret settlement is a cave with a collapsed tunnel which is the beginning of the Way we have sought for 150 years. On that, you have my word of honor. You must leave to this place, make camp there and remove the debris which is all that remains in the path to the sun.
Does slaying 400 heartless yet free gnomes to save 2000 of my own people make me a monster? Yes, probably. Yet nevertheless I did what I did and no words will change that now. A path is open to you and you must take it, whatever it cost to pave. Armageddon approaches, and this sullied gift is my answer to it. Take it up or perish, it is not in my hands anymore.
I will not live amongst you but on the Mayor's word nor will I be hunted by you all. This is the last time you will be addressed by me, people of Sanctuary. Farewell.
Seek your leader Michael Bresley and demand -NOW- for him to lead you there. He knows the way. Every second you spend is a second you chance slavery and death.
Pyotr Ignatiev