Dear Brother,
I heard The Founding of Asterleeds is making its rounds at the docks, passed around like a sailor's logbook. The salt-stained fingerprints on its pages speak louder than the reviews from the Grand Theater in Arena Town. Tomorrow afternoon, on the second floor of the Spinning Rudder, there will be chilled specialty drinks and sea-buckthorn fruit from Salumzahd. I look forward to witnessing how a man trained to wield a sword carves deeper marks into paper than he does into a wooden dummy.
Your Rival & Brother
Dandelion