Veesk-Olan

Veesk-Olan is an Argonian adventurer. He may become the personal outfitter hireling for the Vestige should they choose to allocate points into the Outfitter Hireling skill for clothing, once they reach the appropriate level. He will send a letter with select materials to the Vestige on a daily basis, although the items he sends may be improved with additional points into the Outfitter Hireling skill.

Letters
Veesk may send the Vestige multiple letters to their inbox, detailing her adventures as he gathers resources for the Vestige. The following are a collection of the letters that she will send:
 * 1) [Missing initial letters, unknown quantity.]
 * 2) No-longer-potential-patron, you are dead to me.  I don't understand how you could prefer that disgusting lizard over a scion of House Dres, but you will feel the sting of this rejection.  House Dres neither forgives nor forgets.  Remember that.  I remain Uraviin Dres, of House Dres, and you will regret this unwise decision.
 * 3) Veesk here.  I recovered my journal and sent that vile Uraviin Dres on her way.  She certainly made my scales tingle with the fear of a hundred nights!  At least I have inspiration for the villain of my epic tale, "The Green Hood and the Dres Slavers."  Although writing about her is sure to give me nightmares.  Your shipment is included.
 * Oh, patron, I have terrible news!  While we were visiting Jorunn's Stand, Snips wandered off to explore, as he often does.  This time, however, he wandered too close to the cooking fire of Makes-Many-Soups.  She has imprisoned poor Snips in a basket and refuses to return him to me.  She does assure me, however, that he will taste delicious.
 * 1) They call the chef at Jorann's Stand Makes-Many-Soups.  Luckily, she has just one pot to cook in.  She can't make a new soup until the pot is emptied.  As I considered how to keep Snips from becoming tomorrow's dinner, I'm spreading tales of how diners have gotten ill eating Makes' current soup.  That should keep the pot full until an idea strikes me.
 * 2) Never disparage a cook or her food--especially when that cook is an angry Argonian with a heavy ladle!  She gave me a bump on my head that looks like the peak of Dragonstar Mountain!  Makes-Many-Soups still refuses to return Snips to me, however, and the mud of my options has dried into the dust of indecision.  Any advice would be greatly appreciated.
 * 3) After another long discussion with Makes-Many-Soups, I got her to reveal that she has a secret passion for steamy tales of romance and adventure.  She has a particular fondness for the stories of the Lusty Argonian, it turns out.  Perhaps I can use her obsession to save poor Snips.  Your shipment is included.
 * 4) What a frustrating woman that Makes-Many-Soups is!  You don't know what I had to promise her to secure Snips' freedom.  Still, anything to keep my mudcrab companion out of the soup pot, right?  I will include her as the sexy heroine in "The Green Hood and the Dres Slavers," Makes-Much-Love.  (She suggested the name.)  And I have to take her to dinner.
 * 5) Snips is free!  And Makes-Many-Soups received a few days leave from her post at the cook pot, so I agreed to accompany her back to Windhelm for the meal I promised to buy her.  The trip was uneventful, but we did get a chance to talk along the way.  I never knew how fascinating the life of a chef could be.  Your components are enclosed.
 * 6) Dear patron, my meal with Makes-Many-Soups was surprisingly pleasant.  We decided to partake of the fare at the Sober Nord, and the food was delicious.  Makes was impressed--and when it comes to food, she's very hard to please.  The innkeep even served six-ooze parfait, an Argonian delicacy, to end the meal.  It was amazing!
 * 7) [Missing letters, unknown quantity.]
 * 8) Before we parted ways, I shared an idea with Makes-Many-Soups to make her cooking fire better.  I suggested she add a second or even a third pot.  That way, she can prepare more than one soup at a time and give her patrons a choice.  "More than one soup at a time?"  Makes said, stroking my head fin.  "I must consider this radical approach carefully."
 * 9) By the Hist, I'm so depressed!  Who would have thought I'd miss Makes-Many-Soups so much after we parted ways in Windhelm.  This must be what that condition Fjokki the Bard always writes about--a broken heart.  Anyway, here's your shipment.
 * 10) Dear patron.  Forgive my previous message.  There's no reason to burden you with my heartache and sorrow.  It's unprofessional.  But in case you were worried about me, please don't [sic] Snips has been remarkably good company and I hardly miss Makes-Many-Soups at all now.
 * 11) "She stared into the Dark Hood's stormy eyes, an impudent smile playing across her scaly lips. 'Yes, hero, I am that good,' Makes-Much-Love declared.  'Now get out there and stop those Dark Elf slavers!'"  As always, good patron, any suggestions you have to improve my rousing epic would be much appreciated.  And your materials are included.
 * 12) Dishonored enemy, I hope you aren't well.  That fool Veesk was so absorbed in his writing that he never noticed as I slipped his work journal from his pack.  His vicious mudcrab did attempt to slice a few of my fingers off, but Uraviin Dres is nothing if she isn't faster than a bloated crustacean.  So I write to let you know--vengeance is mine!
 * 13) Dishonored enemy.  Those bandits who recently attacked you?  They belonged to me.  That's right, you were ambushed!  And that's only the beginning!  House Dres believes that revenge is a dish best served with a pinch of pepper and a flask of flin.  Lots and lots of flin.  Bwahaha!  Your components are enclosed, though.  Use them poorly!
 * 14) Dear patron, forgive the intrusion.  It seems that the scaleless Dark Elf known as Uraviin Dres has once again gotten into my journal and sent disturbing letters to my clients.  I erect the spine of apology and beg for your understanding.  I promise that such an outrage shall not happen again.  Stay moist, my patron!
 * 15) My egg-brothers have come to visit.  I'm hoping that they behave themselves, but I expect them to be as annoying and bothersome as ever.  They continue to tease me about my chosen profession (clothier materials provider) and about my faithful companion (Snips the marvelous mudcrab).  Worse, they found the manuscript for "The Green Hood."  I'm doomed.
 * 16) To my surprise, my egg-brothers aren't teasing me about my work-in-progress, "The Green Hood and the Dres Slavers."  Instead, they demand that I complete the story so they can find out what happens.  They've never been this interested in my work before.  I erect the spine of confusion.
 * 17) Could it be true?  Did I actually create something that my wretched egg-brothers care about?  I'm not sure how to feel about that.  Is the Green Hood merely a hero for the common folk or is he an icon of modern Argonian literature?  Colud he be both?  My mind swirls with the fallen leaves of indecision!  But never fear.  Your components are included.