* The following is found on a note of tanned vellum written in black ink in small economic handwriting *
High Priest Yeolarn Bronzeleaf of Tunare,
War is upon us. Six months ago we lost the port of Firiona Vie to the forces of Lanys T'Vyl. Two weeks ago, our own city of Felwithe came under attack by Tier'Dal terror troops. I watched our shop owners bleed to death on the cobblestone streets of my home.
Never more than now has Felwithe faced imminent danger. It is all around us. Rifts tear open between worlds. Holes break open to the lost lairs of beasts from the old ages. Yet for centuries the council of Felwithe chose to remain passive.
It is clear that we must move on our own. I begin to gather information and I begin to plant the seeds within those who will act on Felwithe's behalf. I have sent my spies to the far reaches of Norrath in search of information. They already begin to return with dark and sinister plots. It is these plots that I will report to you over the following weeks.
Last week one of my troll spies traveled to Neriak and listened to the trolls who reside there after the fall of Grobb. The trolls speak of battle. They speak of murder. It is clear that they no longer consider Neriak their home, if they ever did. They speak of a lord, one Bortar, who may lead them in battle against Gukta.
A rift opens between the Tier'Dal and the trolls. We can exploit this rift and perhaps aggravate a conflict between our two enemies. I will seek to learn more and if an opportunity reveals itself, I will act upon it.
Many of my agents travel through the city of New Tanaan, the new hub of travel for the adventurers of Norrath. One of my agents discovered a human named Veslin Savok who sought adventurers to recover a chest for him from a dragon named Ithiasor the Black in the Swamp of No Hope.
I spoke to this Veslin, an untrustworthy fellow if I ever saw one, and I accepted his task. I do not know if he is an agent of Rasp's Wayfarers or perhaps of the Ebon Hand. After a failed attempt to learn more of this black horrid beast, I enlisted the power of Vinceremo. This powerful band of mercenaries and hunters traveled to the Swamp and faced the great wyrm, Ithiasor. The battle did not go well.
I have yet to learn more from this source but I fear the great wyrm will return unscathed to whatever dark hole it crawled from.
Lord Yeolarn, I will continue to send these reports to keep you informed. It is my hope that you will succeed in stirring the council of Felwithe into action. I saw your actions on the bridges of Felwithe. I saw you wield your staff like the warrior elves of Takish Hiz. I know fire burns in you as it burns in me.
Should you be unable to stir the unmoving rock of Felwithe's council, I will do what I can to enlist the aid of the hunters, adventurers, and mercenaries of Norrath. They do not fight for the protection of Felwithe or for the word of Tunare, but with the right motivation they can serve our purposes.
May the Mother watch on us all,
Loral Ciriclight
High Priest of Tunare
Hand and Eye of the Church of Felwithe
Nineteenth Day of the Month of the Amber Leaf, 3201 PD
