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My dear brother Alexi. What a fool I was to spare his life. I looked into the face of the enemy, one of the undead, and let him live.
<Weldon spits.>
He now searches for MY inheritance. This simply cannot happen.
Find my family's deeds before that vile retch gets his boney hands upon them and I shall reward you with vast riches. They lay in the ruins of the Scholomance. Make haste!
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Bow your head in my presence, ‹ras›. I am a noble, after all, and you are a copperless peasant.
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Excellent work, ‹ras›. Now to secure my inheritance...