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'Vedui', Lord Ulsteris,
You may not recall my name, but I am Thresh Starweaver. I'm writing to you under urgency, as the more rumors of violence and bloodshed I hear spilling from the city seem to be getting darker, and darker sir.
For the past month or so, I have taken a great deal of interest as a arcanist in 'the Pit' that Sundren's bricks once called home. You may have noted one of my petitions in passing, but that is not the reason I writ you today.
Over the course of a week, I have taken several samples of earth from Sundren's pit. What is considered a dead area, and has not seen any growth whatsoever, I have merely taken the soil away, and nurtured to produce grass.
I have heard at least three different reasons as to why the Pit stubbornly refuses to grow anything. However, even I was amazed to find that the soil itself, it does not shoulder any fashion of taint. And with struggles between the natives, and refugees of Sundren, spiraling out of control. Well. The situation is dire. I wish to speak with you, and show you proof of what I say.
However the long and short of it, if I have not been entirely clear, is this. Whatever is poisoning the earth beneath our feet. It can be fixed, sir. It's not too late. And if Sundren is ever going to see an end to this violence, I think it will require precisely that. Fixing what has been started, whatever it may be. Be it music box, or Shadow Wyvern, or sundrenite reactors.
I pray you find the time to speak with me, Lord. The soon to be River Hellstrom pointed me to you, and before I beg for support in my task to see Sundren corrected, she has brought good point that I may very well need absolutely as much support as I may gather. I may be found at the Second Wind Inn, room 4, for your return letter.
Vanya sulie,
Thresh Starweaver'
You may not recall my name, but I am Thresh Starweaver. I'm writing to you under urgency, as the more rumors of violence and bloodshed I hear spilling from the city seem to be getting darker, and darker sir.
For the past month or so, I have taken a great deal of interest as a arcanist in 'the Pit' that Sundren's bricks once called home. You may have noted one of my petitions in passing, but that is not the reason I writ you today.
Over the course of a week, I have taken several samples of earth from Sundren's pit. What is considered a dead area, and has not seen any growth whatsoever, I have merely taken the soil away, and nurtured to produce grass.
I have heard at least three different reasons as to why the Pit stubbornly refuses to grow anything. However, even I was amazed to find that the soil itself, it does not shoulder any fashion of taint. And with struggles between the natives, and refugees of Sundren, spiraling out of control. Well. The situation is dire. I wish to speak with you, and show you proof of what I say.
However the long and short of it, if I have not been entirely clear, is this. Whatever is poisoning the earth beneath our feet. It can be fixed, sir. It's not too late. And if Sundren is ever going to see an end to this violence, I think it will require precisely that. Fixing what has been started, whatever it may be. Be it music box, or Shadow Wyvern, or sundrenite reactors.
I pray you find the time to speak with me, Lord. The soon to be River Hellstrom pointed me to you, and before I beg for support in my task to see Sundren corrected, she has brought good point that I may very well need absolutely as much support as I may gather. I may be found at the Second Wind Inn, room 4, for your return letter.
Vanya sulie,
Thresh Starweaver'
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