Not long after the public posting of his requisition, a plain envelope addressed to one Jackard Marks is left at the counter of the Greenest Inn. The source is clearly, and cleanly, labelled as hailing from the Bridgefort camp of the Northern Watch. Within lies an equally sterile letter, although perhaps its contents are more emotive than anticipated...
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Jackard,
Allow me to first extend a humble greeting, stranger, and express a hope that your endeavors find you a favorable wind. I write in search of a token that your guile and clout may provide: my need is for a new, blank book of sturdy construction with a red cover.
What I want for is nothing as simple as these words convey. I want for something precious. I want to feel my own heart race when I hold it in my hands, newly found, whether it be in fantasy of its future contents or fear of my inability to live up to its expectations.
I am in the midst of writing something, and it is admittedly a sad and ugly story. It is my sincere desire that the exterior be a thing so evocative, that if and when my scriven word proves wanting, the reader can still find pleasure in the beauty of its make.
In all of this, be sure that a gaudy or ostentatious thing will not do. Perhaps it is an impossible task, but I have faith in your connections and faith that my heart's desire exists somewhere.
In exchange, I may be able to extend my services as a woodsman in unearthing the herbs listed upon your notice when off-duty. If I prove too preoccupied in keeping the north secure --- a more sure thing than thunder and lightning themselves --- I will pay you in coins.
Honorably,
Batz. Borte-Suul
The Northern Watch
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