ast night, when I opened my mailbox before turning in to sleep, I found myself with a suspicious letter. There was no sender on it, but it did have a candy cane within the envelope, and as I took it out, I thought it was just another kind soul sending out gifts for Winter Veil. After all, I had already received a large number of Gingerbread treats, some chocolate, and of course a lump of coal. Well deserved, I might add at this point. I did not think anything more of it, but as luck would have it, I was with a Gilnean friend of mine, who at the moment stood next to me in his wolven form. He smelled that something was off, and asked for the candy cane, which I of course gave to him, thinking he just wanted to eat it, and willing to share it with a friend. However, to my surprise, he soon threw it on the ground, and proceeded to crush it to dust, informing me that it was definitely poisoned. Needless to say, I was shocked, though as I read the letter, I did not find it hard to believe, given the ominous nature. As it implies that the sender might be dangerous to the general public, we believe it necessary to warn you, dear readers, and you’ll find a transcript of the letter in question at the end of this article. The experience left me worried, of course, and while I had planned to go to bed, I ended up calming my nerves with some fine wine at the Recluse, from where I was then later escorted home by a vigilant member of the Constabulary. It was only after she had left, too, that I realised I might not have been the only one receiving that kind of letter. Hastily, I made my way to our office, and when I entered, I found our dear Editor Hardhy Lester lying on the floor, rambling incoherently about singing letters wearing top hats, drops of sweat running down his pale face. Not everyone was lucky enough to have a Worgen friend with them when they opened their envelope, and I immediately fetched a medic to see to his ailment. Rest assured, readers, that while Hardhy is still under observation, he is in no immediate fatal danger. Every one of us received one of these poisoned candy canes, and not all of us made it out unharmed. Whoever is behind this cowardly attack on our lives, they are using the most joyful time of the year, and the festivities meant for grace and giving, to inflict pain and suffering on upstanding citizens of this city. If you ask me, it doesn’t get much lower than that, and I hope that the guards will soon find out more about the perpetrator. Not just for our safety, but for that of everyone in this city, and for the sanctity of the Winter Veil celebrations. A report to the Constabulary has of course already been made, and I have been assured that they will do their best to find whoever’s responsible for this gruesome act. Let it be known at this point that we from the Lion’s Roar take our jobs and journalistic duties seriously, and we will not back down or let fear silence us. No, if anything, attacks like these only make us more determined to continue our work of informing the public, and we will continue to do so, and keep you up to date on the latest developments. For now, but not for long, Cassie, signing out. The following is a transcript of the letter that was sent with the poisoned candy canes. While we usually do not want to give people like this the spotlight, some of us felt that it was necessary to warn the public, given that the attacks might not be limited to the press.
"I feel as if I were to harsh last year, so this year I will give the citizens of Stormwind a headstart. My headline to you, is an independent news source capable of warning the innocents? or is this treat simply to die for? Happy Winter Veil Signed __X "