Fort Pearl

Dear Great-Uncle Horace,

It has come to my attention that you have taken to wandering our family estate without direction as of late. My manservant informs me that the other day he was obligated to rescue you from a tree before a tebbit grabbed you and made off with you like a plump, foolish child.

It is needless to say that I would dearly hate for you to waste the glorious twilight of your life rotting along with your books at our family’s ancestral mansion. That is why I have taken it upon myself to send you off on vacation. Have you heard of Fort Pearl? I assume not, as it is quite far away. Its decentralized location on sunny Carrse Island puts it countless yarz away from any trouble that you may attach to the prosperous Gorman estate, but right in the path of relaxing birdsong and tropical drinks.

The region isn’t really tropical, but I hear that they offer a smashing deal on drinks.

I have already attended to the matter of your diversions as well. An old acquaintance of mine is in the region, working on his studies of ancient pottery of the Kammocks. It’s quite diverting, from what I hear. The fort was built on top of a Kammock holy site, so I am sure that there is a great deal of that “adventure” which you crave there. I have also corresponded with the general in charge of the fort. He’s looking for a man who would be willing to chronicle his response to the Pointed Wave Incident. Your writing has been searching for a subject for some time now, so why not help him out? I said that you would, of course. Everything has been taken care of, and you may expect to recieve an escort in the days ahead. Bring me back one of those delightful military hats, for I remain:

Your Loving Nephew, Clovis Gorman