A neatly penned letter on poor quality paper is left for Dain Tornbrook. The courier is only described as a poor woman in a patchwork tunic.
"Dear mister Tornbrook,
Sir,
I am hesitant to write to you but feel compelled due to the circumstances. I run a small charity that helps out urban poor and refugees within the City of Sundren. As you can imagine, with recent events and the constant dangers around us, our resources are stretched thin.
It is because of this that I now write to you.
Recently I have been caring for a woman who has been losing a battle with an untreatable cough. She was once a stunning beauty of modest means, a simple country girl with long brown hair, though the years have not been kind to her. She often speaks fondly of you though; of those days when you both were younger and the world seemed less troubled and more carefree.
As we make preparations to ease her passing, her only concern is for her son of nine years. A smart boy with sandy blond hair and keen, bright eyes. The same eyes I recognize in you sir.
All I ask is for a modest donation to ensure the boy's future as is his mother's wish. As you can imagine sir, it is difficult enough for children growing up on the streets without a mother, more so for those that are born out of wedlock and that don't have a strong father figure to guide them. Such children often fall prey to less desirable folks and become a difficulty for public figures such as yourself.
Replies can be made to the Half Pint Tavern, Entertainment district. They often help my charity with extra food, when available.
Regards,
Daisy"
"Dear mister Tornbrook,
Sir,
I am hesitant to write to you but feel compelled due to the circumstances. I run a small charity that helps out urban poor and refugees within the City of Sundren. As you can imagine, with recent events and the constant dangers around us, our resources are stretched thin.
It is because of this that I now write to you.
Recently I have been caring for a woman who has been losing a battle with an untreatable cough. She was once a stunning beauty of modest means, a simple country girl with long brown hair, though the years have not been kind to her. She often speaks fondly of you though; of those days when you both were younger and the world seemed less troubled and more carefree.
As we make preparations to ease her passing, her only concern is for her son of nine years. A smart boy with sandy blond hair and keen, bright eyes. The same eyes I recognize in you sir.
All I ask is for a modest donation to ensure the boy's future as is his mother's wish. As you can imagine sir, it is difficult enough for children growing up on the streets without a mother, more so for those that are born out of wedlock and that don't have a strong father figure to guide them. Such children often fall prey to less desirable folks and become a difficulty for public figures such as yourself.
Replies can be made to the Half Pint Tavern, Entertainment district. They often help my charity with extra food, when available.
Regards,
Daisy"
Comment