Ragnarr: Letters from Drow Prison

Dear Hilga,

You'll be happy to know that, as you predicted, I'm writing this from jail. It was only a matter of time before I ended up in prison.

Of course, never mind the fact that I'm in the prison of an evil race run by women. You'd like it. From what I hear of the drow, the men do whatever they're told, and if they refuse, they can be beaten. And did I mention the evil? Yeah, right up your alley.

Mostly I'm just writing to let you know that, if I die, you're still not going to get a damn thing. I'm happy to say that I've still got nothing but armor that belongs to the church, and some money owed to me by various people who will likely die with me. Hell, the worst offender has already died once. I'll just be sure that he dies again before he manages to pay me back. Half my future wages indeed.

I suppose this isn't likely to get to you, anyway, unless the drow are working for you. Not that you would ever hire an assassin to kill me, though that was back when you were damn sure I had a stash of money hidden somewhere that I wasn't telling you about, and that I had fled from the jurisdiction just to hide it.

Yes, yes, I assure you that I'm still poor, and still haven't made anything with my life. Aside from, you know, saving the world and the people in it, but I know that doesn't really count. We're working on saving some lad right now. He seems like you're type: strong, stupid, and mostly naked.

How is Krug, anyway? Did that uncurable rash ever heal up?

Ah, well. It seems our wizard is going to try something that may kill us all, so I suppose I should wrap this up. We'll see if I survive, but if I die, I'll see you in hell.

Sincerely,
Ragnarr