Letters and Fan Mail

Reading the message, Corwen's fist involuntarily clenched, crumpling the parchment. Memory surged, and he relived the sound of the screams and smell of blood from the night he fled his hometown, trying to outrun his guilt and shame.

He'd heard of MacCraggenhilt, a moderately prosperous dwarven mining settlement in the mountains, it's people hardy and gruff, but decent and generous to those who earned their trust. "I will NOT let this happen again. Not if I can stop it." he muttered to himself.

Not content with simply declining the job, Corwen decided to try and sabotage the operation and bring the gang of marauders to justice, or at least end their threat to the area. He approached Khonshu and asked him to put him in contact with Jarsen, reasoning that a major settlement like the Locks would likely be interested in preventing marauders from seizing a nearby fortified settlement. He also put out feelers through his criminal contact, and spoke to Agent, looking for a contact in MacCraggenhilt's watch. Once he made contact, he informed both watch forces of the impending threat, and proposed a plan - he would agree to meet marauders through Old Nick, luring them to a vulnerable location, so that the watch could ambush them. Having secured their assistance, and their recommendations for an ambush location, Corwen responded to the marauders, using Thieves' Cant. Disguising his message as a recipe for a light summer salad, he replied:

"Agree to terms - recommend rendezvous at gully near target - location as follows". The trap now set, Corwen grimly awaited word on the outcome.

Khonshu pens a response:

Jarsen,

My thanks for the diagram. It shall indeed be helpful in my efforts. I'll craft the device described as soon as possible and attempt to commune with one of the elementals aboard Lanternwurm. As you know from our past correspondence, I find language to be one of the sharpest tools available to the common man. Many an empire has been toppled by a few well-placed words.

I must admit it has been a troubling matter for me personally. To think that I may be party to enslaving intelligent beings shakes me and leaves many questions. Are there varying levels of intelligence among elementals? Is their consciousness completely alien to ours, or do they share concepts of free will, justice, and culture? And what actions must I take if the answer is the latter?

On other matters, I've enclosed some of the readings I had mentioned that you may find enlightening for your own organizing efforts among the guard. My advice: keep the work quiet for now and induct only those you trust. I don't imagine the gang leaders of the Locks will appreciate the kind of radical restructuring of power that we've been discussing.

Khonshu

Travelling the vast world, dying and being reprogrammed at the hands of friends and foes alike, Arcturius-9 had lived through many lives, but there was one thing in this world that he’d never gotten used to - receiving mail:

_________________________________________________

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Arcturius-9 shifted uncomfortably wanting to ignore the person at his door.

“Go away...” He hissed under his breath. Despite his pleading, it didn’t change the fact that there was someone outside his quarters, someone with a death wish.

No one ever came to his door, everyone stayed away from his door. The one’s that did were usually too desperate to be in their right of mind or craving a swift beating. The shit on Lanternwurm was all the same at the end of the day... How did the saying go? One’s man problem was another man’s opportunity - which in one way or another, turned into Arcturius’s problem...

Arcturius had been toying with his weapon modifications for weeks trying to piece everything together: he’s sulked around the black market for dimensional semantics, bought the best Iadrium coil for the electrical cross-wiring systems, and bribed to the old geyser down in the mechanical room to siphon off some oil from the Lanternwurm’s reserves.... There he was, deep in his body upgrades. His arm was laid out on the table before him, connected to a vast number of pulsing wires. Everything was ready, everything was prepped - One wrong move, any distraction and he’d fry his neural-sensors to a crisp.

“And then this fucker decided to knock on my goddamned door...” He seethed. He was in no mood for visitors, let alone a visitor begging for a knocking themselves.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

There it was - the most timid knock he’d ever heard. “Fuck off, I’m in the middle of something!!” He bellowed.

There was a beat before the knocking decided to continue, more pitiful than before.

With a deep seething grumble he started flipping switches and turning dials before ripping a mess of cords from his chest, grabbing his arm from the workbench and roughly shoving it back into place. Surging forwards and reaching for the handle, he’d almost ripped the door from it hinges as he came face to face with an irritating asshole who’d decide to disturb him - and on his day off no less.

Upon opening the door to his quarters, Arcturius-9 narrowed his eyes at the elven courier with his fist poised for yet another knock and as the startled elf took a half step back his mouth gaped open in surprise at the towering frame of the cyborg.

Arcturius stooped to get through the door advancing on the elf, not giving a shit that half of his chest cavity was exposed as wires zapped and crackled against his metal exoskeleton. His gears clanked and smoked and his bottomless eyes glowed red illuminating the elf’s terrified face as he began fidgeting with the hat on his head. Arcturius looked like he had just fought his way out of the pits of hell.

“Where the fuck is the regular postma-” Arcturius stopped and took a deep breath, gathering himself. What was Khonshu always telling him? Stop being an prick? Something along those lines... As he leaned down to be at the elf’s height, stopping to meet him eye to eye, he said venomously with a slight maniacal grin on his face: “You must be new here.” He indicated the empty spot where his mailbox used to be; in its place, empty hinges half-dangling from the wall.

“Puh-puh-puh-pack-auge-fuh-fun-fuh-fer-you-suh-suh-sur” The elf stuttered, holding up a small bundle including a parcel and a letter.

Arcturius-9 rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh as he gingerly plucked the parcel from the elf’s twitching hands. He retreated back within his chambers and slammed the door shut without a mutter of thanks.

He threw the bundle onto his work table and sat down with a groan. Who would ever send him anything, he thought. He had always been careful when he had exchanged information, careful not to have anything traceable back to him. Maybe this was a mistake? Someone else’s parcel? Corwen’s? Farrow’s? Or had he not been careful enough? Had they finally found him?

There was a long pause where he stared at everything and anything but the package thinking I should just burn it and be done with it... But his curiosity got the best of him.

Arcturius set the unopened letter aside and ripped open the package first, his face scrunched in confusion at the sight of a figurine - Is that? No it can’t be... Next, promptly opening the letter and scanned the writing once, twice, and then setting it down on the workbench. His hands came up to his face and scrubbed furiously as if it would clear his irritation away. It never worked. He grabbed his soldering gun and lit the letter on fire.

Golden Panther seemed to be a harmless old man - maybe even a bit lonely... However one could never be too careful and at this point Arcturius-9 didn’t give a fuck. He extended the figurine out to the owlbear cub curled underneath his workstation. She raised her feathered head, sniffed the doll and slightly crinkled her eyes at Arcturius waiting for permission to take it. He waved it awkwardly around as if trying to imitative Golden Panther’s sloppy fighting style.

Her eyes narrowed and she promptly ripped it from Arcturius’s hand and tore the head right off. “That’s my girl” He cooed at her and scratched the back of her neck.

Farrow opens the letter with shaky hands... terrified and excited all at once. She had prepared herself for this letter - it was a long shot, sure, but she felt ready.

As soon as she read the word "pleased", she jumped up and ran to the other room screaming for Einkhorn.

"I'm in! I'm in! I did it!" she yelped, handing the letter to her father.

"Well, what does it say!!" he turned from his tinkering, laughing along with her. She handed the letter to him and continued laughing, running up the walls in celebration.

"Read it to me, I can't focus!" Her excitement overwhelmed her and she held back tears. Einkhorn read aloud, with tears in his own eyes, so proud of who she was becoming.

As he closed the letter, reading the guild phrase, he titled the envelope and held the brooch in his hands. He called her over, and pinned it to her lapel. He kissed her on her forehead and emphasized the importance of iron as a symbol of honesty and protection.

Farrow leaned into her father's arms, poking him with the gears. They laughed and wiped the tears from their eyes. She scooped up her hoar fox, Peppermint, and went yelping down the halls of Lanternwurm to tell her team of her good fortune.