#i wish joko was there in feels incomplete without him :(

[ohno-goddammit-haych]

Dave is such a great photographer

[kethtree]

My Dearest Sister,

I nearly killed a man. The son of a Krytan noble:--one of those cads who is left to run free no matter his behavior, shuffled elsewhere whenever local accusations grow too loud. They inevitably do. I hadn’t heard he was in Amnoon, nor realized he’d accompanied a guest to the celebration of the consulate opening. (I shall refrain from detailing the ball, as I know you despise such things, but I promise it was the most scintillating social event this city has seen in years!)

He caught me on the balcony overlooking the garden. The party was just starting to slow, and I wished a moment to catch my breath. I suspect he was watching for such an opportunity--he is known for it.

He was quite insistent. I was unswayed, and demonstrated as much.

Dear sister, you never told me! There is such glorious strength in having a man at your feet and cradling his life in your hands. I know it isn’t so literal for you, but surely you feel it all the same! Or perhaps you don’t. You were always the safe one, for all your recklessness.

I was released from the Amnoon jail after he woke, three days later. The Krytans chose not to prosecute--the gentleman is, as I said, quietly notorious, and a trial would not benefit him--but my continued employment was deemed not politic.

It is a fearful thing, sister, to be suddenly without purpose. I raged. I wept. I briefly considered turning to Nightmare, as it seems the “in” thing to do when denied one’s life’s work, but dismissed the notion as trite. If seventeen years of public service couldn’t push me into depravity, neither will this.

(I know, I know! I oughtn’t conflate “depravity” and “Nightmare.” Please accept my apologies;--you know I don’t mean to cast aspersions on your mostly-harmless debaucheries!)

Instead, I have thrown in my lot with what is nominally a humanitarian society, helping refugees escape Joko’s tyranny and establish new lives. Nominally. I fear, sister, I was sold a tale which was, if not false, at least incomplete. Already I have been placed in danger and made complicit in a morally ambiguous venture of the sort to which you would be far more accustomed. I have since learned that this sort of thing is typical of this group.

Disappointing, but in retrospect unsurprising. No respectable organization is willing to take me on, and Mother knows I tried! Delanien was kind enough to provide me with a letter of recommendation before we left the Reach, though at the time I couldn’t imagine why I might ever need it. Even his glowing review wasn’t enough to secure a position elsewhere! I suspect I am blacklisted, perhaps even beyond Elona. If that is indeed the case, I am fortunate that the notice doesn’t seem to have reached the administrators of this “Elysium.”

My coworkers are interesting, those few I have met. I could go on at length, but you would skip the paragraph and accuse me of “barfing that nicey-nice Dreamer horse shit,” so I shall instead close this letter. As ever, please give my regards to your companion and my love to Ceybal if you see her.

Yours,

Kethri