My dearest mystery lover,
It has not escaped my attention that many of you might be wondering where I have been. When I have been. Indeed, what I have been. In truth, the full circumstances of my absence are unclear even to me, owing, I’m sure, to the nature of the entity with which I was embroiled. I’m assured my senses will rally in good time. My spirits, too, are rising. Buoyed both by memories of our society’s great successes, and several new expeditions looming on the horizon. I feel a chill beginning to dissipate, as the warmth of renewal rises to the fore.
Forgive my familiarity, but if you’re reading these very words, then chances are our paths have crossed before. Maybe it was in Cairo, or perhaps on a deserted archipelago? Might it have been in the aftermath of a terrible theater fire, or inside the haunted walls of a Victorian manor? If not, allow me to reintroduce myself. I am the Curator. The wizard, so to speak, behind the Mysterious Package Company’s heavy crimson curtain. There was a time when I myself dispatched the confounding crates and Eldridge artifacts to our society's esteemed members. I opened doors to worlds beyond our own. To elsewhere. No matter the occasion, I was as pleased for your good company then, as I am now.