Letters from Greyha-- uh, The Free City #2 (Ruins of Greyhawk)

My dear friend Griggor,
First, I need to apologize for taking so long to write back. Things have been happening quickly here in the Free City, and I'm not sure where to even begin.

Adventuring has given me more gold than I honestly know what to do with, although it's also landed me in a great deal of trouble. When I was traveling to the city, along with the dwarf and the halfling, we had come upon a small orcish raiding party. Naturally, we drove them off, earning the gratitude of a man named Ricard Damaris. Mr. Damaris, it seems, was the proud owner of an inn in the Free City, and as a token of his thanks, we were given free rooms for a month. In fact, we have a permanent place at a table he usually reserves for honored guests!

The next section is almost difficult for me to believe, so remember that I am an honest man as you read it. We descended into the ruins beneath the Tower of War. Timely, as it turns out, because we stumbled upon a burgeoning invasion coming up from ... somewhere. It turns out that Iuz himself was intending to invade the Free City with a sizable army! I'm still not sure how we got ourselves caught up in the whole mess, but somehow, it didn't seem like entrusting the details of the invasion to the city watch would be enough. We went further down, following the clues as we found them and doing our best to scatter Iuz's forces whenever we encountered them.

I doubt you'd believe many of the details, but I can certainly give you the basics. Since coming to this city, I have: fought powerful wizards, defeated a mighty general, inadvertantly tracked down the former owner of the Free City Gladiatorial Arena and slew him, infiltrated a certain wizards' guild, met the one and only Mordenkainen, nearly died at the hands of Iuz (yes, he came to us once we'd disrupted his plans enough to ... rile him up), been turned to stone, co-bought a house here in the city, saved an eladrin, and ... died.

Yes, died, due to the strength-sapping touch of a foul undead creature. Fortunately for me, my companions were able to pay to have me brought back. I owe them my life, many times over. They know the truth about me, and yet they have neither assaulted me nor shunned me. Perhaps my job here is not so hopeless after all. If they can see past my feral nature, others can as well.

At one point, Griggor, I actually saw paradise. Not from my experience with death, but rather during a series of ... visions of the past. I only wish I could remember the visons better ... the one thing I do remember is that I had a wife ... a wife and children, Greggor! I can't quite see their faces anymore, nor can I remember their names ... but I was happy ... truly happy. I think that I lived a lifetime there, wherever "there" was. Although I know it was supposed to be something that had happened a long time ago, I can't help but wonder ... did I somehow change the nature of the vision? Was I seeing what actually happened ... or was it what I wanted to see? Maybe I was somehow shown my own future. Perhaps, this woman whose face I can no longer see clearly really exists. Perhaps she is here, in the Free City, as I write these words. She was kind, but -- what was her name? What did she look like? Have you ever tried to find someone you don't know anything about? Sometimes, I awake in the night, certain that I can almost remember her scent. Perhaps I will encounter it again, and be able to find her with it.

Or perhaps I make too much of the way the vision played out. I don't believe mortals are meant to return from the afterlife; maybe my experience has addled my thoughts a bit, leading me to draw false conclusions. The ruins we have been in, too, might have influenced me ... no, they have influenced me on at least one occasion. Best not to ask me about that night; I will never live down the shame as it is. This city has been unkind to me at times, making me wonder if my resolve is strong enough to stay until my task is completed. There are days, my friend, when it is everything I can do to keep from returning home.

I have friends here now, and a second purpose beside finding a wife; I have to go back to those ruins one last time, and finish what my companions and I have started. We have someone ... no, something ... that we must find and destroy. As such, this may be the final letter you receive from me. Please know that I am not intending to go to my death a second time, but if death should find me, I will bring as many enemies as I can down into oblivion with me. Tell Harrold that I miss him, and if you haven't heard any news from me a week from the time this letter arrives, be sure he understands that I died to keep him and others safe.

I hope fervently to be able to write again. Goodbye, friend Griggor.