A brief introduction: it's been ages since I've written to the public,
and I apologize to any who find my chatter highly inane, and merely ask
you to skip the following public letter, and go to the second section,
which may or may not concern you. Those who once called me a friend, I
ask that you read the next (and hopefully final) letter I will write to
the public.
_______________________________________

Firstly, congratulations Olivet. You surprise me muchly. I remember
years ago when I took this hapless young damsel traipsing through the
smelly sewers to hunt serpents, teaching her the ins and outs of
harnessing the words of creation to attack, defend, and heal. It's seems
like ages ago, doesn't it? Ah, to have those days back.

Not two months ago, I was waylaid in Caanae by none other than the
mighty, feared Harbinger of Catastrophe, one Brutal Juganothion Gazalis,
Arm of Death. Having gone out of my way not to aggravate my past
grievances with Stavenn and even attempting to have my enemy sentence
removed (despite our philosophical differences being at opposite ends of
the spectrum, I no longer wish to actively come to arms, so to speak), I
was struck down by repeated slashes of four swords from the Harbinger
and his guildmate, Kalil. Needless to say, it hurt, and I died a
painful, bloody, gruesome death, sending my soul through the torturous
pathways to Dis (no disrespect to the followers of Lord Thanatos, but I
don't especially enjoy my time down there).

Immediately upon being revived, I sought to ask why such a fearsome
warrior would target a hapless, somewhat retired minstrel as myself. His
words were that our Lady Olivet willed my death.

Her response was quite terse, in language I can only assume has been
learned through her recent (well, recent to me) career of politics:

"Give up class, return all illegal sketches, and cease your taunting and
rumours regarding the Bards."

Upon receiving the message, I was immediately aghast. Until the day I
was killed by her allies**, I had NEVER given, nor sold, ANY sketches to
ANY soul on our continent. Nor had I gone out of my way to taunt or
spread rumors about the guild. Granted, I gave my opinion of the guild
and its leadership when asked, but never did I go out of my way to
foment any form of rebellion. The guild was behind me, and I figured I
was behind the guild. The only waymarks I had ever purged through the
use of the words of our Lord Avasyu, the Creator, were in misguided fits
of insane rage, or in retaliation for the purging of mine. If any others
have been attacked, the blame should not be placed on my shoulders, but
should be investigated within the guild. I may have committed heinous,
misguided acts in the past, but I am not without honor.

Now, to the point. Yes, I broke the trust of many all of those years
ago, when I was overcome by a fit of insane rage, somewhat childish,
even at my age, and retrieved all of the commodities of Kinsarmar,
stored them within my belts, wrote a mocking letter to the city, and
ran. Not two days later, in hope of some form of atonement, I returned
every commodity in my possession (even my own), my instruments,
sketchbooks, gold sovereigns, and even the clothes off my back. I then
left, naked as a newborn babe, buried myself underneath the garden of
Kinsarmar, hoping never to be seen again.

I've apologized to many over my actions, and I apologize again. Some
have forgiven me, some haven't, and many probably never will. I will
most certainly never again be placed in a position of power, and nor do
I want it (the old Caanan adage that power corrupts certainly is true! I
was a mere minister, and look what it did to me!). It merely surprises
me that after all of these years, without even speaking to me first, I
am attacked on behalf of my former guild, by lifelong enemies of the
guild's home city, nonetheless!

I do not wish a war with Stavenn, and I apologize for my lack of empathy
with the paths of the city of war and of demonick influence, but I
have... much difficulty in following your philosophies. Until I lost my
mind, I was a proud member of Kinsarmar, having given much blood, sweat,
tears and toil in service. In war, in donation, in politics, I was ever
a loyal citizen, and even after becoming an enemy, I came to its aid
(such as the skirmish over the dwarven caverns).

However, now, the Guildmistress of my former guild, the actual face and
voice of the guild, has formally allied herself and the guild with the
city of Stavenn, longtime enemy, in name and deed, of Kinsarmar, and
even sent the guildmaster of the Diavlous after my head in the guild's
name (I thought the Bards were peaceful!). How this is spoken of in
Kinsarmar, I know not, but I know it reeks of the sewers and serpents
(no offense to any Ssylsin, these are mere sewer serpents I am speaking
of) we used to hunt together.

22 > However, now, the Guildmistress of my former guild, the actual face
and voice of the guild, has formally allied herself and the guild with
the city of Stavenn, longtime enemy, in name and deed, of Kinsarmar, and
even sent the guildmaster of the Diavlous after my head in the guild's
name (I thought the Bards were peaceful!). How this is spoken of in
Kinsarmar, I know not, but I know it reeks of the sewers and serpents
(no offense to any Ssylsin, these are mere sewer serpents I am speaking
of) we used to hunt together.

______________________________________


Sketches will soon be for sale. Never have I done this before, but all
sketches will be for sale, for the right price (depending on difficulty,
obviously, and remember: I risk my neck every time I hunt), including
the feared sketches of the dreliths, and any inks will be attuned to the
sketches, merely at cost. I know purple ink causes quite the punch
indeed!

However, as a service to me, any sketches I sell can not be given, sold,
or transferred in any manner to my enemies or to those I am an enemy of.
Given I have no personal enemies, those organizations include the
Diavlous, Malignists (I'm still seeking unenemying), Stavenn, Kinsarmar,
and the Bards (well, that doesn't mean much). I won't be able to sell
again to those who I have found have broken this trust I give freely,
but I won't seek retribution.

This deal is limited (or not) in time. On such a moment as the Bards and
Stavenn end their alliance, and I am written a formal written public
apology by my former friend and current Guildmistress of my former
guild, and steps that I can take to serve a sentence, that don't include
inane demands that are impossible for me to take (I don't know how to
forget things, but that's me).

My lady, I sincerely hope this can be solved without violence. If my
demands are not met in one year's time, sketches will be for sale on the
open market.
_____________________________________________

Penned by my hand on the 21st of Ultio, in the year 441 AD.