My Dearest Emiliana,
In the year of our lord, 1569, I am about to die. I have traveled to the land of my ancestors, far south past Carthage and into the desert. I am inside one of the great pyramids now, trapped by many hundreds of Templars who have made this place their home. I have hidden the ancient Ankh away in the hopes that it will lie there, undiscovered, for the coming centuries.
When I originally came here, I had high hopes. I did not expect the unexpected, which has brought about my downfall. It was a simple matter of getting in the Pyramid, through a few secret entrances and such. The traps here, however, are amazing. I wish I could have had time to examine them; it's wondrous what such ancient peoples could do with so little technology.
By the time I got to Her antechamber, it was too late. I was surrounded by Templars. Their leader had already taken the Ankh. In desperation, I killed him and ran. I hid the Ankh in a small crevice next to a pillar, somewhere in this labyrinth. I kept running. I reached the entrance, only to be caught by more waiting Templars. Heed my words, Emiliana; do not look for the ankh. It has a bad aura about it.
I have slipped this letter to the local innkeeper, along with your description. I hope you find it. Tell everyone I'm sorry. Tell my brother to keep strong, but not to fight for vengeance. For my story is one of many thousands… and the world will not suffer if it ends too soon.
Sincerely,
Yaroah Rhodun
