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| ID | 6843 | ||
| Collection | Dispatches from the Deadlands | ||
| Needed for | Courier's Folly | ||
| Locations | |||
Found in the following locations:
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Cycle five-thousand six-hundred and seventy-nine.
En route to Fargrave with the planestone Madam Whim and her demanding assistant, Nass, commissioned me to recover. Those two will wait in their precious House of Whims. The gold they promised is as good now as it will be later.
For my own amusement, I've decided to leave my pack—with the stone—in the Folly. Maybe I'll return to it one day. Let Madam Whim wait. I tire of slogging excursions. Payment means nothing to me. My existence resumes when I want it to and only then.
I remember the storms in the False Martyrs' Folly differently. The staves which collect lightning weren't sticking out of the ground every few paces the last time I passed through. I suppose the staves make it easier to avoid being electrocuted now. I detest returning to Oblivion wreaking of my own burnt flesh. But now anyone can travel through the Folly. There is no greatness in it. No challenge. Time reduces all things to menial accomplishments. Soon, mortals will have the unremarkable task of recovering highly sought items.
Prowess and skill meant something once. Existence challenged the fiber of my being. My course is clear. If I am to once again feel the thrill of adventure, I need to take chances and risks of an increasingly dangerous nature. It is the only way.