Dearest Mother,

Our journey to the abandoned dwarvan smithy to ascertain the existence of a catch of telstang has been eventful. Upon arriving at the ruins of the keep, we found the remains of a riding horse on the banks of a small beaver pond. The horse was covered with opportunistic birds enjoying an easy meal. After closer inspection, our ranger was able to tell us that a large, possibly reptilian beast dispatched the equine. He also identified a set of footprints leading from the carrion to the water's edge.

Calling upon Larethian's divine favor, I cast "endure elements" upon one of my newfound friends. He bravely swam threw the mirky waters to inspect a nearby beaver lodge. There he learned the fate of the horse's master. Mortally wounded, the rider fled the scene of the onslaught to the relative safety of the beavers' lodge. His body was cold and well beyond my humble skills. News of his fate saddened the party as well as reenforcing our need to be vigilante.

Inside the dwarven keep, we encountered the beast that attacked the deceased rider. It was a white dragon wormling. Working together as a team, we were able to do what the lone rider was not; slay the fell reptile.

Greeting from the nether worlds. My travel companions and I have undertaken an unexpected journey to parts unknown. We volunteered to transport a ceatation in a glass jar from one end of town to the other. The pay was more than adequate for the risk involved and so we readily agreed. "Thing that are too good to be true often are." Now we find ourselves somehow, magically, transported to another place. I don't know where we are now, but I am confident that we will persevere.

Yours truly,
Primula