Please excuse the errors of my language – I am communicating in your tongue for the first time in the medium of letters, being previously only accustomed to speech and the simplest ledger-keeping. I write to you as an acquaintance and business agent of Ostkin te Ateyr. I must report with heavy sadness that he has died. It is unknown to me how those in your country treat the death of your kin – please be comforted that we have extended every possible respect to his passing, in the manner of our own people. As his chief associate in this land, I have charged myself with the handling of his remaining affairs and the return of his effects to his home. The contents of his office will be shipped back to Mirsvr with the next Company vessel flying that route.
I shall give you an account of what I know of Ostkin's final days and passing. As you are no doubt aware, Ostkin was in Ebwar seeking to enter the local mining buisness on behalf of your firm. He had promised capital and many materials to a number of local enterprises, and had become well known and well liked among the controllers of the local commerce – hosting most agreeable parties for those of us involved in the trade, and showing us the great delights that the Northern culture has to offer.
We all saw what prosperity could be brought to Ebwar by association with Ostkin, and the Companies, and the noble city of Mirsvr most particularly. Please be assured that none of us who traded with Ostkin would have dreamed of harming him, and we had not a hand in his death. Rumours and speculation of Spires depravations in Anshess and other foreign lands carry no currency among the traders of Ebwar, who seek only a peaceful and mutually profitable relationship.
It was at one such gathering, held three nights ago, that we last saw Ostkin. It was an affair typical of his gatherings: a dozen or so local captains of enterprise, a handful of Company officers, Ostkin himself, and on this occasion two more unusual figures: an Erthan river trader and a curious person of obscure origin, a squat man with skin the colour of Azen wood and peculiar clothing, claiming to be a nomadic trader.
This final person engaged very little in the society of the party, and refused all food and drink excepting a cup of water and syrup. Late in the evening, he secured a private audience with Ostkin, and they retreated to a side office.
I hope I do not breach any social precedents if I tell you that Ostkin seemed reluctant to be alone with this person, and that shortly after they emerged, Ostkin begged forgiveness for calling an early end to the evening, and retired to his own chambers before all the guests had left. He seemed most perturbed by whatever discourse passed between him and the mysterious trader.
He was not seen the next morning, nor during the day. He had never missed an appointment in Ebwar, and his absence was soon noted. An examination of his chambers, undertaken by me personally in the presence of his secretary and a captain of the Temar company, revealed no clue to his whereabouts, except for a packed travelling chest, as though he was preparing to leave Ebwar. His appointments-book revealed that he was not due to return to the North, nor travel elsewhere on business, for more than twenty days.
It was last night – on the evening of the second day of his disappearance – that his body was discovered at an abandoned mine, not far from the Companies' shipfield, which Ostkin was considering acquiring and reopening under the management of your firm. A local boy, tasked with exploring the workings, spied him through the window of the mine office. Though he had been missing for less than two full days, he appeared to have suffered a great illness – his skin was drawn, his face was gaunt, and he appeared much older than his years. No cause of his death could be definitively established – though an older mine captain summoned by the boy confided in me that it greatly resembled a wasting disease that afflicted the miners of Anshess, where he once worked in his youth. No such disease has ever been known among the Ebwari.
A further curiosity arose from this tragic situation. The office in which Ostkin was discovered was locked, but no key was found within the room – the only copy was in a workshop across the yard. Thus I must unfortunately assume that malicious agency or foul play is somehow involved in Ostkin's passing.
I regret that I must communicate with you under such tragic circumstances. I regret further that the acquisition of the mine by your firm will no longer be possible as we do not wish to open up a working that may have poisonous airs, so close to our homes. The delivery of Ostkin's effects to your offices has been arranged, and should any further issues pertaining to his business here arise, I will contact you immediately.
