<A rather morose looking orc walks up to Pikki holding a few papers, one of which stands out from the rest. A finely wrapped parchment is sealed with pressed violet wax. Opening it reveals carefully scripted words in black ink, each character hinting a softness of the author, if such a judgement could be made.>

To whom it may concern…

I am writing in response to the parchment I received. I am surprised that, after all the time, the Blacktooth Grin would seek me out. I know our dealings in the past were very few, and recent events (on my side) have pushed me out of contact with many persons. Whatever the case, I am glad to help out old friends, if I may be so bold to call our relationship friendly. For posterity's sake, allow me to re-introduce myself, with all applicable references.

My name is Aeschere. Years past I was a lead architect for the Royal Apothecary Society of the Forsaken. Due to mostly personal reasons, I am no longer affiliated with the Society however I do maintain good relations with many of it's members, some of which have been my close friends for quite a while now. Those who know the Society, or at least have heard of it are familiar with it's practices in blight, plague-spreading, and so on--I assure you, nothing of that sort is what I offer my services for, though I will not deny I have participated (sometimes completely unwillingly, but I digress) in such subjects in the past. That knowledge, along with working closely with the Argent Dawn and Argent Crusade makes me more than capable to deal with this 'corruption' problem you mentioned, at least, in my own opinion.

I am assuming by the text of the document I received that you have at least a few capable chemists in your ranks. The one you mentioned, Andorial, I have met briefly not long ago, and would very much like to work with her. I understand that this sort of problem you are all experiencing is not one you want to share with the world, however, I believe, working together is the best method of quickly and thoroughly fixing it.

I am happy to oblige any and all questions you may have about myself, my practice, or otherwise. Meeting in person seems most beneficial. You mentioned in your letter that Ratchet is a primary point for business, I will try to be there in the coming day. I look forward to meeting all of you, and by the sounds of things there is much work to be done, the sooner we get to it the better, eh?

Pikki reread the missive then tossed it on the pile with the rest. She leaned back in her chair still looking at the parchmeent, confused.

"...friggin deaders, I dint send dem anything...'specially dem apothacaries...don't trust a one a dem...."

She stood, stretched - she definately needed exersise. She rolled her shoulders to relieve the stiffness in her neck and walked to the window. She leaned on the sill and looked out over the burnt plains of the Barrens, her thoughts on the letter.

"...don't know dis person...and dey seemed pretty informed 'bout what was goin on...someone talkin?..."

She sat back down, swearing to herself and wondering who might have leaked the information. The new Grots would be closely watched, someone else...maybe....

She pulled the letter back to read again and reached for a pen that she dipped quickly in the well. She quickly scribbled some notes in the margins and placed the letter in a drawer to the side.

"...don't trust dem apothacaries...don't trust any deaders...don't trust nobody..."

She makes her way down the stairs and out the door. She turns and locks it behind her. She whistles for her windrider.

"...nope..nobody.."

She grits her teeth, mounts and flys off toward Rachet.