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I only know one thing for sure: this substance is dangerous. I don;t know what it does, or how it came to be in my possession. I do believe that it was meant for me, and only me. I cannot let this fall into somebody else's hands. I can trust no one. There was a note; it was left by this surreptitious jar of black powder. The note read: "Charles, I had to notify you as quickly as possible! I have not much time to spare! Please, take my last of Draught of Death, this is all I have left. I have sent it to you for you are the only man I can trust. They King's guards are coming soon, surely to execute me. You must protect this Charles! - A.R.B" I haven't the slightest clue who A.R.B. is. My grandfather was Charles. Was, in the past tense. He died just this morning as he handed me this jar. His last words, "You know what to do..." And to be honest, I do not. I do not want to dishonor my grandfather. I have this sensation, this premonition, this sense, that I have to go to the castle. What I do from there, I haven't any idea! What this "Draught of Death" does, I do not know. What is my mission? We will soon find out. Hopefully.