Most Reverend Sir,
While I am forever at your service, and shall, as in all matters, dutifully and willingly yield to what is unquestionably an ineffable calling, I must again urge most pressingly to reconsider this posting so far removed from the fervent issues of our day.
After a cursory pass through the public house in the village proper, I have found neither a Barton nor a Bean, nor certainly the whisper of a Drake. I did find myself availed of a most wretched soul, bound, it seemed, to the mortal coils of a tankard. The poor man has now mercifully crossed, and for that, if nothing else, my presence here was heavenly sent.
But for this blessed passing, I fear our labours ill-used in this endeavor, and suspect the veracity of any intelligence leading the Council to such erroneous conclusions. I anxiously await reply at your earliest convenience. In the interim, I continue to soldier on. Never doubt that I remain —
Faithfully Yours,
Ackerly Skeffington, Guardian First Class, European Guild of Guides & Spirits
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