Queensday Firstweek, Howl's Batten, 147/32

Got round to picking up my mail today, and there was something interesting inside. I've got mail drops all over Vardia. People I trust, as much as I trust anyone. They hold the letters for me. I stay on the move a lot, and this is the only way I stay in touch. Normal people use the post office for the same thing, but I trust the post office even less than the barmen and low-lives I pay to be my points of contact. Some of the parcels I get are questionable, to say the least. Wouldn't like to turn up asking for it and find myself staring down the business end of a Navy revolver.

What I got this time was a message from a guy called Xandian Quail. He's a whispermonger that lives over in Marklin's Reach. He says he has a proposition for me. Me in particular. A proposition that might make me very rich. And that's all the detail he gave, other than I have to be there by the end of the month. That's two weeks away. Twenty days. Can't hardly stand the suspense, to tell you the truth, Log.

Of course, you can no doubt tell by my jaunty pen-strokes that I'm kidding. This whole thing is suspicious as Pinn's imaginary girlfriend. I've sold a few titbits to Quail in the past and he always pays fair, but he's a big-money information peddler. Never been able to afford to buy anything from him.

So why me? What do I have to do with anything?

The sensible part of me is telling me to ignore it. Anything too good to be true usually is. Thing is, my sensible side doesn't have the stamina that my stupid side does. It'll be tired in a few days. I might as well give up now and say I'll be going. Just to talk. I can't think of any reason why Quail would want to kill me, but he could well be working for someone that does.

Still, though. What it'd be to be rich, eh?

I also got a message from an old acquaintance, some horrible bastard called Lawsen Macarde. He's the dominant smuggler in Scarwater these days. One of the fellers I pegged to make it to the top, so I never screwed him too badly on a deal. He's in the market for some aerium, if I can get my hands on any. I could do with some myself; we're getting a bit low. I'll maybe head over to Scarwater sometime soon, see what I can do.

Desperately trying to think of anything I've done to wrong Quail. Can't.

What's it all about?