The following letter was posted on the wall of the Axe and Bull Tavern on April 6, 602. It was dictated by Rohan Valar and sent to Elayne Josita Riveth-Ramirez. It concerns her account of the events leading up to the imprisonment of Olo Mahdin, which can be found in this library under the title The Tale of the Silver Tower. Some editing has been done.
Bonatifka Dear Elayne,
A very noble and concise recall of the events in question. I was not there for all of them, but I was there for the beginning.
You will however, have to forgive me the conceit of correcting you on a few things however . . . and on this I must insist.
I was there when the Tower appeared and I was in one of the groups to go in . . . led in by Gavin, who was quickly becoming a very good friend and boon companion to me, we took on the forces of the Tower, unknowing of what ailed it and merely wishing to free some of Gavin's Compatriots . . an adventuring group known as the Tinkers who had stumbled upon the Tower and harnessed its abilities to steal the nightmares of the peoples all over Tyrra, moving from this land to that sporadically . . . doing good in a gentle, quiet sort of way . . . but it spiraled out of control.
I know not much about Ulo . . . I am largely ignorant of him and his true nature . . I have not had direct involvement with him since the days we were hypothesizing that he was Fae. . . but I do know this . . . like a djinn from the south in a bottle, as is the legends of my people, he offered Gavin his heart's desire, by asking him for his most fervent wish and for his greatest fear. Gavin knelt down beside him and spoke with him, claiming he had seen him in a dream. Up to this point I found Gavin an affable, friendly and logical man with a wonderful sense of humour, even if he was, at times, a bit odd. Ulo obviously meant to twist him, I see this now . . . . but they were so calm I could not see it coming. Avery, Esmerelda, and I ran upon the scene, running after a fitful Gavin as he plopped down next to the Deceiver and spoke . . naming his desire as to create and to build, his fear to have his creations rise up and destroy, to run amok . . . it is at this point Ulo spoke those chilling words . . . "I hereby name you the Reaver of Life" . . . . cutting through the deceivingly peaceful morning air like a blade through the heart . . . it is at that point GAVIN turned and grabbed him, and they faded out of existence . . . when Gavin reappeared, with clockwork monstrosities storming the town in much fanfare and chaos . . . there was much confusion . . I chased him . . I chased him, oh, all my will was bent on catching him, this friend turned false . . . much like my childhood companion and betrayer, Istvan, before him.
But that is another Tale.
Finally, he stopped in the La Taverna and was willing to talk . . . gone was his carefree nature . . gone was his very HUMANITY . . . his compassion, his carefree charm . . . his warmth . . He was as much machine as man, then, all humor burnt out and left with cold, inhuman apathy . . . in coldly logical terms he told me . . . . told me how he was a superior being, as were his machines . . and how they would sweep us away. His arrogance and his hate were terrible to behold . . . . I could scarcely see my friend . . . buried under all the warped magic and metal that had reforged him.
Time went on and he was slain and slain and finally imprisoned . . . . Ulo went on to give I and various others horrible nightmares . . . . Of that I will not speak . . . Nanaki the dream walker saved me . . . and as such, I learned to pursue other evils and leave the province of the Wise to those who could decide such things . . . .
Everyone will remember Ulo . . . . some will remember the Reaver of Life . . . but in short, I choose to remember and Mourn Gavin Coggswell . . a truly enterprising human being . . . a strange but kind man, who wanted nothing more than to go to his workshop and invent, and create . . . the innovator . . the adventurer . . . the man.
I know his spirit lie in torment . . .twisted and in stasis . . . May he be granted some measure of peace . . for I have seen others twisted by Ulo's magic . . . he is as innocent inside as they . . . . . much as others may condemn him for what he became, and that being, I do not invoke nor pity.
Who else will, when the years have passed and all is tallied?
Rest you well, Gavin Coggswell . . . mes amigo . . . sali con los epiritus
I find the hour grows Late . . . that is not all I know, but I will say no more.
Rohan Valar
*As penned by Fineas Gilthas, Scribe of Tyrra*