Amelias Messenger

The tiny creature emerges from a small pool of water at your feet, his skeletal hands gripping the edges of the cobblestones. He adjusts the large, white silk bow atop his head, ensuring it sits perfectly straight before reaching into a leather pouch slung over his shoulder. With a soft, rhythmic hum that sounds like a choir heard from a distance, he holds up a crumpled piece of parchment sealed with red wax. He looks up at you with wide, glassy eyes, tilting his head curiously as he offers the letter.

For... for the Hunter? A word from the high walls... please, take? The incense is fading, and the bells... they ring so loudly tonight.