In the early morning hours, a white-robed acolyte drifts into the office of the High Priestess Tallis to deliver a crisp missive on deckle-edged paper. It reads:

High Priestess,

The report on my pilgrimage to the South follows thus. While keeping vigil at the High Altar of Asketi, the Inquisitor Rileos was my sole attendee. I cannot speak as to whether adventurers and townspeople in other regions heeded my call to prayer. Several days before the Ride, the voices of many Necromancers and heretics rang out in a chorus of blasphemies across the public Gwethdesuan. Occasional casual disparagement of our Thirteen is, unfortunately, not unusual amongst the adventuring class. Necromancers and their supporters have grown bolder throughout the years, heralding their deeds and sacrilege with unmarked insolence. Those who would champion the Immortals and challenge the lies of the Necromancers are few - or at the least, less vocal. In short, Holiness, I cannot help but feel that this profane outcry may have been the proverbial final straw.

As you are aware, the Ride itself occurred on the Eve of the First. On behalf of the sinful children of Elanthia, we who brought the Fury of the Dark upon us, I offered my life as penance. I chanted praises unto Asketi and, as I did so, an enormous adder appeared before me and drained me of my blood. I sensed that She was pleased by this sacrifice and I heard nothing further on the Ride upon my return to life. A Necromancer arrived at the Temple shortly thereafter, perhaps to confirm my death. I chased that foulness away before it could hope to desecrate the High Altar. Beyond that, nothing else of note occurred.

With my vigil complete, I shall return to my duties anon. Should you require me, I shall, as always, be at hand.

Hisakna'hhs'Izzu'hhr
Whiteburn