My Esteemed Nephew Elandir.
If you are reading this, then I, your uncle Isaac, have died. I know we haven’t seen one another in far too long, and I suppose we never will again, but I always felt that you were my favorite relative. We just always seemed to understand each other so well.
As I’m sure you’re aware, I was living in a thriving metropolis called Wedhburg on the border between Sembia and Cormanthor. It’s a quaint town that has remained independent from the merchant lords of Sembia and never really was a part of the Dalelands. I came to Wedhburg to study the enormous confluence of Ley Lines that take place there and stayed because I loved it there. To support my studies, I owned and operated an inn, The Falling Dagger.
I wrote this letter and made arrangements for its posthumous delivery because I am leaving you all my worldly possessions. It doesn’t amount to much more than The Falling Dagger and my personal library, but I want you to have it all.
I’m sorry that we couldn’t see each other more, and I’m even more sorry that the last word you got from me informed you of my death.