Jimmy ya bastard.
write me a letter. I dont care that you're at sea. I need to hear from ye before I lose it completely.
Imagine this, me, ive waited two weeks to stop those children being eaten. Weve finally convinced everyone in the group enough that we have the culprits....and weve found a secret door from the restaurant down into the basement. We enter...into a cloud of poison gas...and stop to discuss tactics! WOOLHEADS! Everyone gets poisoned.

Jimmy, I hope my missive finds you well and not working too hard. Tell your uncle I told him to give you the day off to get laid. There has been several interesting incidents since I last wrote. As you are aware I have been bodyguarding an elf and of course he turned out to be a total twat. Nearly got killed twice protecting him from various ne'erdowells while he variously pronounced judgement on my perceived faults. Did you know elves don't fart - they probably stick perfume up their you know where!

Greetings Chaplain Ardeth,

It has been sometime since writing to you I know, and in truth I am fortunate to ever write again. I have sustained a slight injury, a grievous blow to the shoulder-blade from a heavy impact. I fell you see, from a mountain ledge to the jagged rocks below. How you may ask?

No surprise, once again, my intuitions have been proven correct. That gruesome doctor turned out to be a rather demented individual after all. The group of humans, with the addition of a half-orc, that have been incessantly turning up in my life recently got together yet again and spoke with Ellenyl, the Aoskrii agent who sent us chasing this rod in the first place.