[Posted in both Upper and Lower Sanctuary]

Attention: if you are either a newcomer to Sanctuary or have been here, I, Seeker Azen, request your help. I am looking for true citizens who realize the depravity of our current situation. If you lack a purpose, or are wondering how you can help the city having just arrived, ((shameless plug – read my guidebook :wink: )) write me a letter or contact me in person at the Seeker hall. We must rely upon our own fallible will and moral insight. Do what is right. Help the city, help us, and help yourself.

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While some find it convenient to sit in stagnation, I find it necessary to actively pursue the elusive ‘freedom’. By first fixing problems that plague Sanctuary from within, and then exploring the caverns that plague Sanctuary from without, we could truly return to why this town was created. It was once a safe haven, a place of respite from the storms surrounding us, and a temporary situation that would be soon abandoned. It has become a tomb, just like it was for the Deep Gnomes here before us. I am looking for dedicated, realistic citizens who are willing to assist me in rectifying the situation. Some of us have forgotten what freedom actually encompasses.

Freedom is the capability to proudly travel your own path; it is the right to lead your own life; it is the power to claim your own destiny; it is the calling for you to abandon your dingy homes of Lower; it is the desire to forsake the pervasive corruptness of Upper; it is the pang you feel when you bite into the bland, grimy taste of sporebread; it is the hatred within you, telling you that Sanctuary is not safe when ogres, orcs, and goblins manage to strike down your closest friends; it is the sacrifice you willingly give for your children to travel the explored tunnels of the Underdark to escape; it is the wind-swept beautiful plains and mountains of foliage, next to the deep blue lake of tranquility; it is the night sky that shelters us and keeps our darkest secrets secure; it is the dream that we all share. Condemned to false freedom, we citizens now drown slowly in sunken hope.Right now, we citizens of Sanctuary are trapped in a nightmare of this freedom. We live in a state of deprived dreams, a state that is shaped and perverted by the maligned forces around us. We cannot even cast spells without helmeted figures coming to arrest us. We do not have freedom. We lack the common goal to search for it, and the guidance to find it. The dreams of our citizens, young and old, are to have the security and comfort of knowing that you are free to wake up the next morning without a drow knife at your throat, chains around your sweltering feet. There is no simpler way to do this than to get out of reach of the blade.

You must turn your attention to what you need the most, a strong organization that is dedicated to finding your elusive, forgotten, deferred dream within the quagmire of delusive placidness. The Seekers are that organization. Learn what a worthy passion really is. Assist us, work with us, fight with us, escape with us.

By the release from former servitude, we ironically suffer. At one point, our leaders overwhelmingly felt safe by a seemingly suitable existence. It is little different than slavery. We are no better off, still shambling about in uninspired lives, working for coveted coins. We have only lost the voice of the taskmaster and in return have gained avarice and squalor. One man who founded the Seekers, Frederick Bresley, dared to claim the birthright of his race. He dared to seek out his freedom, and he at long last did what all of us could not, reach the surface.

In essence, Sanctuary is now a festering, rotten sore. It was, and is, an abandoned, hollow ruin left by the ghosts of former gnomes that has only been exacerbated by our current possession of it. We found the inviting cavern like rushing blood. By sitting still, we crusted over. Now, we remain a diseased scab gripped onto the wound of this sore, appearing like we are better, and yet eventually – yes – picked off by cunning and violent enemies: drow, beholders, illithid and all nightmarish phantoms that abide their time in the unexplored shadows, waiting to strike. Why do you wait to die? What do you sit in Sanctuary for, wasting your time, and ultimately your life? Nothing.

‘Nothing’ is not the name of a mystical, compassionate deity that comes to rescue us all. It is time to reform our principles, and seize the day. In this time of darkness, when the secrecy of the city’s location is lost, our facade of protection must be cast asunder. Like a heavy worn out cloak, it must be, at the very least, stitched again with more fabric. Instead of silently brooding and dying over petty issues, we must renew our desire to seek out salvation. Calamity within our own city is childish; we must turn our attention to the real issue outside the gated walls.

Do not fear the races that lurk in the dark, for your sacrifice and willpower will alone be the mindset that redeems us, saves us and instills us all with newfound courage. Cast aside the destitute shawl of despair and triumphantly carve new tunnels in the name of Freedom.

Together we can make a difference. If you are interested in assisting, once again contact me at the Rock Bottom or the Seeker hall through letter, or in person.

- Seeker Azen

// To clarify, this may be something similar to a newplayers guild, among other things.

A man in bright red armour, stained darker in many places with dried blood, walks by and sticks the follwing note next to the one above:

I truly find it hard to beleive that anyone actually thinks the way to the surface can be 'found'.

Bresley did it, did he? Prove it. How does anyone know he simply didn't die, cold miserable and alone, in some dank cave? If he did make it, why has he not come back with an army, to save his fellows?

It is a lie of course, spoken and respoken to kindle a false flicker of hope in you all. A lie used as a tool by those in power to divert the energies of the citizenry from the real cause in which freedom and the surface can be obtained. Those with power here like it, and they covet more of it, a fact as sure as the rising of the sun on our beloved surface each morning.

No citizens, the way up to our homes cannot be simply stumbled across. That is a lie.

I'll tell you how the way can be found though.

Drow. They know the way. They are the reason you are all down here. They run surface raids, looking for slaves. Regularly.

Considering this, the only option for freedom and the surface is war. Forget everything else. If we as a town unite, these drow, our captors, cannot hope to stand against us. Standing in the burning ashes of Traensyr, the blood of the drow still warm on our armour, the sweet taste of victory in arms still fresh on our tongues, the screams of the drow prisoners we captured ringing in our ears as they are interrogated...only then will the surface be found.

Imagine if all of the energy we possessed as a community was funnelled into a war effort? No more Upper vs. Lower. No more Watch vs. Tigres. No more political bullshit.

Instead, a brotherhood of ex-slaves, burning with purpose and resolve, sharing a common effort. Sharpening blades together as we discuss the furious splendour of that first charge. Pooling resources, so that every man has some armour on his back and a weapon at his side. Good natured jokes as we practice and train together. Comradeship, cooperation and a common goal. Unity.

Peace with the drow is cowardice and weakness. War is the way to freedom. The only way. A noble and honourable way.

The surface is there waiting, for those with the wisdom and resolve to fight for it.

-Bloodreaver Skret

[a short note is written on the post that Skret has tacked on]

Good sir, I have sent a letter to the Rock Bottom that discusses what you have spoken of. Please refrain from tacking on long notes after mine. It is rather cluttersome, don't you think? Pick up the letter and respond when you have the chance.

Signed, Azen