Death Threat to Colmes

[Random_White_Guy]

Lieutenant Rennik Colmes,

I arrive to this settlement to be told you were a Refugee once yourself. That many of Ephia's Well are in fact guests. Unlike myself however while some guests are cordial and leave the place better than they found it - You have chosen to serve the Sultanate. Chosen to partake of the Ashfolk Gods.

They speak as if you are ubiquitous. To watch over your shoulder for traces of ash, if Rennik Colmes catches scent he will doggedly pursue your allies! He will interrogate your friends, he will apply pressure and leverage to enact Wroth's justice, he will feed the Sultan's lions, he will restore order.

How does it feel? To play bogeyman to a band of amoral miscreants and greed-fiend Refugees? Whose talents for discreet work can be measured in the distinct lack of criminal organization and meticulous craft. Cutthroats trading all aspiration for a handful of Dinar and a Scroll of Voice so long as they play within the rules. As those who testify in trial are not left tongueless, as those who proclaim themselves bounty hunters are not left hanging by their entrails for their attempt at capture.

Or perhaps the Scales have simply been imbalanced. Ground by the Wheel before their efforts may even flourish with a hired hand or two. Perhaps the quality of quarrel has been emaciated from the long walk. Too eager to slake thirst with water to speak truth. Unable on parched tongues to do naught but gasp. Too lacking in purpose to enact their works without tossing it aside for base offering.

I have watched how they speak of you - Those of the Accord, those of the Leagues. They would endeavor to provoke you, rankle you, spurn you. All the while fearing you, what you represent, and what you can take away from them. However I have no care to "Get" your proverbial goat. There is nothing you can take away from me, I care little for your settlement, I raise no Bellows, I ply my trade and make my way.

So tell me, Mister Colmes.

Has as victory defeated you, trading your Coat for Iron? Playing commander instead of Detective...

Would you rather die on a battlefield facing orc, surrounded by your loyal soldiers in a valiant charge to seize the day and end the threat of the Thousand Clan?

Or would you rather die on the hunt for a threat to your peoples, corruption of a sort that is not inoculated by the promise of Gold League dinar, of Purple League austerity, of White League sympathy? For I will not go skittering to Ka'esh for salvation when all is bleak, nor will I duck behind the Accord in hopes we shall reach an impotent stalemate.

Without voice but so beloved by your Voiced, without uniform but so beloved by your Accord. Already they throw offerings at my feet to commit burglary, to commit murder, to take up their mantles and join their fight - yet these are but symptoms. For I am a poison of a different kind.

If you are so inclined-

You may consider this letter your first clue:

The Year's Gasp has welcomed back an Asp.

BASHMU has been welcome once more into your home.

We are The Spiral.

And we already begin to wind.

...Happy Hunting.