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Lucrey's Farewell
Sitting in the inn at Booty Bay a half full stein in front of him Lucrey stares off into space. "The boat oughta be here soon" he lifts the mug up to his mouth and downs the rest of the bitter grog though his taste buds long since dead unable to detect the flavor. "Another round pasty?" the goblin at the bar asks looking in the corpse's direction.

"No thanks, don't need to be drunk when I get on the boat." The barkeep gives the undead confused look. "Yeah I can still get drunk, one of the few things I can still enjoy." He flips a gold coin at the short pimple bartender and heads for the door. Stopping mid stride he pulls off his tabard and looks down at it for a few moments. "Can't go livin in the past... well at least not for my sake. Hey uhmm Sniggle or whatever, I need you to give this to whoever comes into the inn here from the Tribe. Oh and this note to." Handing over his beatup and dirty tabard with a sealed letter on top. "You open it and I find out your gonna be servin drinks with your feet got it?" he growls and the goblin cowers a bit and just nods taking the package.

The letter reads-

To whomever recieves this first:
Since I don't know who might show up at this inn I can't address it properly other then its ment for the whole tribe. I'm going on a trip that may well land me in a bit of hot water. This is something personal that I need to do, I don't expect to be coming back and am leaving anything that might link myself with the Tribe. So for the your own sakes I'm disassociating myself and taking on a new identity. I'm sure you all can handle most anything but this group could prove most bothersome if they come looking for you and I don't want that.

So this is farewell and good luck to you all. Sing true Ironsong!

-Lucrey Moldimer.

Standing at the docks Lucrey waits for the ship to carry him off towards familar territory for what is expected to be an interesting experience.

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