Ladies, Gentlemen, Fae-folk,

Considering the timing of this missive, it behooves me to reply to Ulvin Zusir and his post suggesting an alternative approach to the sketches that have been manifesting upon our realm through malicious magics.

Thank you, Ulvin, for such a sobering look into the face of foolishness. When a book on Ashtan's history in the modern age is written, no doubt you shall head a chapter titled, "Don't Let This Happen to You".

Moving on to more important matters with the saner and more rational among you, I am pleased to announce the successful retrieval of Myatt's fifth stolen sketch, "Father". Late last month, dire portents and foul, booming laughter drew us to New Hope, where we found manifested a haunting orphanage. Upon this stage were two key actors: a frightened child, and the being who terrified him. It did not take much investigation to learn that the source of the child's fear was the proprietor and manager of the orphanage, an abusive caretaker who called himself 'father' to the children he so savagely abused and murdered.

As a one, the adventurers there were seized upon by a immediate fury, and a shared certainty: 'father' was a monster of the basest order, and there was only one resolution to this problem. The monster needed to be slain.

What resulted was a gruesome battle. The apparition was strong, cruel, and brutal. Many an adventurer was beaten down, subdued, and most macabrely, put to death under the apparition's literal heel, stuffed into boxes and stomped upon 'til we fit inside, flesh pulped and bones crushed. Yet even the temporary setback of defeat was not enough to quell the adventurers' righteous wrath and fearless determination. Strategies were formulated. Nezaya, Erikarn, and Ereia were among but a few who dedicated themselves to the defensive line, conjuring reflections to absorb the apparitions blows and reviving fallen adventurers with their alchemy. Watcher determined that the best approach to keep the apparition staggered was to move in two groups, so that those who weren't revived could pass through Lord Ugrach's Halls of the Dead and return to the fight before the apparition could catch its breath. Lady Tahquil gallantly remained behind to protect the frightened orphan in case 'father' emerged from his bloody study, before leading the final charge to quell the apparition once and for all. We all fought, fell, and returned to fight on, and at long last victory was achieved as Claes landed the final blow upon the apparition, unraveling the fell magics that granted it form and returning it to the sketch from whence it originated.

Mere moments later, Tyrandiel sent word from New Thera: Myatt had awoken. And so, we returned to the Lucretian Anthaeneum to check on the artist and report our triumph to her. There, Myatt recounted the history behind this sketch; she spoke of the horror stories that revolved around the mysterious and frightening 'father', abductor and murderer of orphan children and his orphanage of terror. She spoke of him in the hushed tones one might use to recount urban legends, tales told to warn children away from misbehaviour. And she spoke of the hero who confronted him at last, a shining figure in white, wielding a flaming sword, putting the beast down and destroying the site of his crimes against mortal children. And so did 'father' pass from history to legend, legend to sketch.

I want to thank you all for your efforts once again. Many responded to the call, and persevered against a powerful foe. I am proud of you all for embracing the heroic duty of rescuing an innocent from a predator, even within the abnormal, twisted reality conjured from Myatt's sketch.

Art is not meant to cause suffering. Discomfort, perhaps; so should anything that challenges what needs to be challenged. To stand against wrongness is not meant to be comfortable, but it is right. Art can be a tool to lay bare injustice and inspire heroism. But like any tool, it can be abused. It can be used to misdirect, discredit, even slander.

'Father' represents the abuse of authority, of power leveraged needlessly against the powerless, of the strong harming the weak for no other reason than to delight in doling out fear, pain, and death. Let it stand as a reminder that any authority, and power, even Art, must be wielded with responsibility and purpose.

Thank you all for putting down this apparition. Thank you all for your continued efforts and respect for Art. I proudly look forward to standing at your sides when it comes time to act again.

In Song,
Taelle Starling

Penned by my hand on the 11th of Miraman, in the year 959 AF.