My post as field-councillor and sorcerous liaison has drawn to a close, and I write to you not knowing my immediate fate. Within days news will likely reach Vali of the proposed closure of the mine. It will surely be put to the guild archons and clan tongues whether continued operation is feasible. I have seen some odd things, tampering with records, unreported gains, somebody is making the mine look less profitable than it is. In fact, in the early watches of the night, I've seen good ore thrown in the slag pools and gems thrown in the aqueduct. Would that I had the wherewithal to bring my suspicion forth but alas my kinfolk have summoned me. And so, back to the hill-country I set my face. Only if you take an interest should you pursue my misgivings. You know as well as I, that the Delvers are not lovers of our matron but only buy us for our sagacity and the deftness of our tongues with words of magery and goetia. Curse their avarice, truculence and mercurial humour!
Be well Uncle
All hail ghosts of our pride!
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