A single, folded piece of paper, addressed to the temple of Tyr’s Waiting in Phlan. The letter (which is slightly scorched in places and bears the faint scent of ozone) bears a plain wax seal – lacking any sign upon it but for a single crude gouge.

To whom it may concern,

Infernal powers have amassed an undead army, the likes of which the world has never seen. For reasons I do not totally comprehend, the god Tyr has been named as a foe. Any who worship him are in grave danger. Be ready.

Signed,
a friend