Your Excellency, we can wait no longer – the scouts say the Black Ones are already readying their siege equipment.
If you wish to escape with your life, please present yourself at the Vizima Temple Quartersewer entrance tomorrow at the crack of dawn. There is not much room on the boat, so take with your only your closest family and most valued treasures. I shall provide a few men to act as a guard, but not too many, for I do not wish to attract unwanted attention. We shall sail through Blacksol, Stoonwar, White Orchard and Charske. From there we shall continue on horseback.
— Yannick Delen
P.S. Do not tell anyone about your flight. We do not wish to arouse panic.
Read close, mate. Lady Caroline's hanged herself. Tragic love affair, something like that. Some gallant gent stole her virtue and then split, her belly started swelling and, well, tragic results.
But enough about that. Let's get to the meat of the matter. I helped prepare her for her funeral – and I'm telling you, the shite they stuck in her coffin! More riches than in a Koviri vault! I'm telling you, you couldn't even see the body for the glare coming off all that silver and gold!
So I'm thinking all those baubles won't be one prick's lick of good to our dearly-departed lady in the afterlife, whereas you and I, why, we could put it to fine use in the here and now. So perhaps we should lighten her coffin a little bit, so as nothing goes to waste?
Thing is, I can't go anywhere, but you, you're a free man. So grab a shovel and head out to the swamp graveyard. Start digging where folk have laid out fresh flowers. Then we'll meet up and split everything fair and square... half for you, half for me. Deal?