I heard of your recent loss. At that news I was reminded of my own. Although I have never married I was close to my sister and her daughter. Her husband perished on a trading ship in a naval engagement and I had supported them ever since. Given that I was a person-non-grata within the city walls of Y’Bent I would meet them in the summer in Small Port and spend endless evenings with my niece. Watching her grow was as delightful as watching her play amongst the summer grass and trees. Perhaps you find it hard to believe that someone as cold and austere as myself could feel the stirrings of human mercy and love? Six months ago she was brutally wounded in an air raid. She died before she could have been healed. If I had been present I would have saved her and returned her body to whole. Instead she lay on a gurney and her shattered body gave up her spirit to St Cuthbert. My sister, ever frail, later took poison and died. I pray for them both, daily. Although it is not logical to do so: I blame you. I felt only joy at your loss and cursed you that I was not able to save my own.
Therefore, what I am about to write causes me much burning rage. You will be aware, by now, of the fact that to fund the mission here I aquired a substantial amount of money from The Church. I also lied to the staff and told them that the Gryffin Peak mission was on order of The Fathers in Greyhawk. It wasn’t. Most of them are dead, and the remainder are not kind to me.
I have always felt this unfair. I have given my all to service. Yes, my ambition is naked to those with eyes to see it. But I have always yoked this drive and ambition to The Church. And it has paid. I increased the amount of churches threefold in The Shield Lands, to the extent that my name is spat out by those who follow Pholtus. During my tenure at The University the amount of priests taking orders in St Cuthbert quintupled. Everywhere I go the Church flourishes under my tutelage. I may not have your easy manner, kind words, I may not have your fighting prowess and shining armor but I still serve, as I can, St Cuthbert.
My mission here is no different. I have been directed by our master directly. I have never been a Priest of any great power. But, about a year ago, I began to receive thoughts and visions that I believe were not mine. Something is stirring in The East. Something is afoot in The Theocracy. I sense opportunity. If the Godking shall fall, the largest country on Greyhawk will be without leadership or spiritual guidance. That gap could be filled by St Cuthbert. But we would have to be quick. Otherwise others may take the mantle. Perhaps Iuz? Perhaps Pholtus? And so I made up my mind to set an outpost of St Cuthbert as near to The Theocracy as I could. I am building a strong church and reputation here. We have a growing order of Knights – the first in our name for 300 years. And so, in time, we shall be ready.
By why should you forgive my ambition? On the day I resolved to go East I was granted considerable magics by St Cuthbert. I suspect I am now one of, if not the most, powerful Priest in The Church. I took this blessing to be the seal of approval that I needed to act in the way that I have.
So, regretfully, my fate lies in your hands. One letter from you would destroy everything I have built here and ruin the potential for the future. And my ambition has built much. We have a packed church, are trusted by the population and have a firm footing with those that do and would rule here. The Church guides people into Gryffin Peak, administers them and acts as soft guiding hands on their lives. I helped save 5000 souls from the Theocracy and released them from a Plague Curse from Iuz. And the funds that I have took remain, largely intact, ready for our adventure East.
Therefore, through gritted teeth, I ask that you allow my holy mission to continue.