Log-locked Memospore, Stormcrown eyes only, consigned to the easterly winds To the Pearl of the Nibenese, Unifier, Sword of the Nine, the Eminent and Wise Empress Morihatha Septim
My Emperor. The work to delve into the deepest reaches of the Dweech (known among the native Echmer as the Portentious Whelm) continues despite the latest set backs. The superstitious Echmer continue to resist inclusion in such parties, but the advanced persuasion techniques of the Blades' Thoughtwrights continue to be effective and we have not yet had a lack of able guides. Casualties are high, but those who do return bring stories that only reinforce your wise and prudent instinct that there is something to be found below.
I myself accompanied one such expeditions recently and can hardly describe the experience. The wondrous grinding, the thudding beat of the heart of the world, the delicious smell of corruption and rot, merely remembering it sends me nearly into a state of ecstasy. I write this missive to you as a courtesy, for it will surely be my last. The rhythm of the Heart has infiltrated my very dreams and I can no longer stand to be without it. My deepest regret is that I will not be here when you return, for I would show My Emperor the succulent bounty that awaits us below. I will go tonight, and this time I will rip open the pipe-veins and bathe in the viscera of the world so that I may Become.
Cordially Yours,
Imperial Governor Asterus Cordat