To High Lord Doran,
I write with regretful news. Enforcer Ralert has fallen—killed while attempting to apprehend a practitioner of unsanctioned magic at the monastery in the Blue Scale Mountains.
The target, a priest named Davoran, and fled into the night with aid from a former Blight Division soldier. We pursued, but were ambushed in the dark. The priest struck Enforcer Ralert down with what can only be described as a desperate, lucky blow. I attempted to subdue them, but the soldier shielded his mind and severed my hand—along with my connection to the Queens magic. With no means to defend myself or restrain them, I was forced to withdraw.
Prior to this, the Abbot was found to be altered by magic. He was executed in accordance to the Great Treaty. However, I believe not all those within these walls are innocent. There is silence where there should be outrage, and glances I do not trust.
I request immediate reinforcements. The fugitives must be tracked and brought to justice. And this monastery, too long isolated from the Queen’s reach, must be purged of whatever rot has taken hold.
They must all understand that defiance has consequences.
In service,
Enforcer Driscull