A Communication between Reginald Veklin & Robert Veklin[]
I
Brother, It has been nearly three weeks since I set out from the fair lands of Fallgren to these haunted Shadow Isles. I’m beginning to suspect that your informant’s claims of hidden treasures were little more than besotted ramblings. However, with the family coffers dwindling, an expedition to the Isles felt like a reasonable answer.
One of the servant-boys, Elric, claimed to have seen a dark figure in the mists. Children’s tales, fanciful imaginations, I’m sure. But try as I might, I could not let the child’s tale out of my mind… was he perhaps attempting to distract me from a petty theft? I will have to interrogate the boy.
Clearly, the excuse was the invention of a youthful and frivolous mind. I will write again, later. Hopefully with good news. Send my best to the boys, and to mother & father.
Your brother,
Reginald Veklin III
II
Brother, have you heard of the story of the warden of the Isles? A brutish, hulking figure, some spectral animosity taken ghastly flesh. I had been thinking upon this story after the servant boy returned to me and swore again what he said was true.
Naturally I could not tolerate insolence from my cabinet, & thus banished him from the caravan. If he cannot manage Noxian stoicism, he should enjoy the mists alone!
However, I stole away from the caravan in the night, intending to investigate the boy’s ravings, and instead found something quite extraordinary… a relic of an ancient civilization!
Wrapped in cloth, softly glowing with some runic arts I could not fathom, but most importantly: a prized piece of antiquity! Brother, with this, I stand to bring the light back to our family name! We shall become the envy of the noble Houses… or what’s left of them after the betrayer split the throne.
Will write again soon. Your brother, Reginald.
III
I am still attempting to gather my wits, brother.
Late in the night, I observed a… visitation. Forgive my scattered writing, it is only a feeble mirror of my currently settling thoughts… Brother, the reaper, I… I believe he knows of me.
In the night, I woke to a scream, and the growing presence of the mist made it impossible to see even a foot beyond my own nose. The caravan was in shambles, the dining carriage overturned & blood scattered all about the region. I had to hold a handkerchief against my face to even walk through the remnants.
And in the middle of the wreckage stood the great hook-and-chain warden himself. A finger in a bony hand extended in my direction, and the flames of his lantern rose as if on command!
I fled, brother. And I will return to Fallgren & the manse within a fortnight. I can only hope he will not follow.
Your brother, Reginald.
