6th Rain’s Hand
Nicrythe Tower,
Artaeum,
Sumurset.
My dear Xal,
How dramatic things are in Morrowind. I had scarcely shot off my letter, and within but a few hours, I had your reply. Imagine how much more efficient the Empire would run if they had our sort of delivery service. Why Uriel Septim VII would have some idea of the sort of … well, we can certainly get to that at a later date.
So, what I burnt was anointed by the Mephalites. They do make such a bother about things, don’t they? I wouldn’t be at all surprised if someone had to be sacrificed to the sixth spirit, old Black Hands the Spinner herself. Is the Morag Tong still in operation? We lose touch of such things down our way.
You needn’t tell me about this “B.” Despite the attempts of our agent, Sheogorath (the lad who took the name of the daedra to inspire fear, though he hardly lives up to it), he continues to delve. I can see the use of the Scroll, but it seems – and you must excuse my, oh let me say it, Psijic protectionism on this – a little bit much. I mean to say, honestly. Really. Seriously. What is the worst that can happen?
I know I shouldn’t say that. But I do.
Half-way through this letter, I paid a visit on Master Balec Frel, and was informed that he had gone out for the evening. Inquiring further, I found he had been eaten. Though he would not be the first of the Psijics to be eaten by a hound of Oblivion and survived, I must admit a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.
Perhaps in lieu of the Scroll of Adompha, you will accept in my sincere appreciation, this, a very, very rare recipe for a potion which will cause whatever person is to the immediate left of you to be cured of lycanthropy, regardless of their years under its spell. I can see how this might not be of much value in Morrowind, where lycanthropy is more rare than a sexually normal Telvanni mage, but it took considerable expertise, and not a little bit of luck, to perfect it.
Oh, and if you have an opportunity while in Kemel-Ze, would you be so kind as to ask a question about the Kothringi for me to that … you know who I’m talking about it, but her name escapes me … she’s kind of big, and ugly … and she smells like death? … anyhow, if you could ask her to reply to the letter I sent her a fortnight ago about whether the Kothringi and the Argonians had, well, certain relations, that would be very helpful. Primary sources, of course.
And now, I’m off to bed. I wonder why they call them Seducers …
Yours ever,
Gosleigh
