A Letter to Tristan

Dear Tristan,

How's life, since the Valentians kicked you out of their embassy? I have to say, I was disappointed to find you gone on my last night in town.

Yes, I have indeed moved on in my travels, and for once in my existence, have found a place to stay for a while. I am currently in a tavern in the "mythical" kingdom of Alesia, which does, in fact, exist deep beneath the Western Wastes.

As it turns out, the worship of Olidammara has long been neglected in this fair city, the temple relegated to obscurity, the faith's last two adherents (delightful gnomes named Bip and Bop) left passed out at the altar... Naturally, the god has commanded me to revive worship. I have already begun training Bip and Bop in the subtle nuances of being a cleric of Olidammara (namely: high alcohol tolerance, some basic dance technique, and a loud voice), and the faith's first public orgy is scheduled for next week. Not that I haven't already... er....

Anyway, I would love it if you came to town for the orgy. It's going to be a good one. Plus, they have some seriously great liquor here, as well as a lot of amazing antique weaponry. Let the awesomeness commence.

Yours (not exclusively),

Aranel

P.S. Have a new wand you might enjoy. But only if you let me touch your sword.