In which there are more problems than solutions

As always, I hope this finds you well and happy. I’m going to try to post this packet of letters as soon as we get back from our mission to the Rootgarden - there is something which I could really use your advice on, and again, news of my own which I know that you will want to hear as soon as possible.
 
This morning everyone was gathered around the breakfast table, even Raphael for once, and we took the opportunity to consider our plans for the coming week. After some discussion, it was decided that we should go and see Councilman Lauriette, and offer any assistance that might be needed with investigating the Rootgarden, or anything else, rather than just waiting for them to ask us. Wind and Zeni made a few comments about getting a good price for our assistance, but I’m sure that they weren’t serious. The bigger question seemed to be whether to go on foot - quite a way by the sound of it - or to sail across the lake. This proved fertile fodder for debate, but eventually it was decided that a boat would be preferable, if it could be obtained.
 
Zeni very helpfully shared her previous experience of travelling in this Root Garden area. I’m still not entirely clear on how she ended up there, but it sounded like a very unpleasant place to spend any length of time. I’m not surprised that the townspeople are reluctant to go there and investigate for themselves. In particular she mentioned a group of gnolls known as the Moon’s Teeth who have their lair somewhere in the swamplands, and who sometimes attack travellers or even launch small scale raids.
 
Perhaps one reason that feels a bit more urgent now is that the infection may have already reached our own ranks. A few days ago Raphael came to consult with Arin and I privately, and said that he had been feeling unwell. An unfamiliar hunger was gnawing at him, and he was not easily able to control how much he was eating, which was very unusual for him. It certainly sounded like the strange condition which was causing so many problems for the town, although of course it was hard to tell for sure. I channelled a cleansing power to clear him of any malady that might be lurking, and his symptoms seemed to be relieved at least for the moment. I can’t be sure though, that I managed to clear it completely. Raphael himself blamed the fish dishes that Sabali had prepared, but that seemed to be more of a slightly ill-tempered guess than anything else. The fact is that we just don’t know how this spreads, and I can only hope that no-one else will take ill, particularly while we are out in the wilds.
 
The weather has been absolutely filthy today, and it was a bit of a wrench to leave the cosy taproom of the Eagle’s Landing. The rain was falling heavily and the road was muddy beneath our boots almost as soon as we left the inn. Wind in particular seemed less than delighted with this turn of events, and looking at the impact of the sticky clay on her expensive-looking shoes, I could see why. The rain here doesn’t usually bother me much - after all, compared to Vasselheim the weather here is usually pretty harmless, but this rain had a weird oiliness to it. Combined with the fetid smell of rotting vegetation which seemed to be carried on the breeze, it was not a nice day to be out of doors.
 
This sentiment was shared, it seemed, by the two guardsmen stationed outside the Sunrise Lodge. They were wrapped in oilskin cloaks, with the rain running off them in streams, but despite that protection (better than anything we had, for the most part) they still looked rather sorry for themselves. We hesitated before the door, and Raphael rather graciously waved me forward, which took me rather by surprise. Once I had explained our business, one of the guardsmen confided that his wife had been healed by Altria’s medicine. Of course it was good to hear that people had benefited from the potions, but I hope that we can do more in due course.
 
Inside the door we found a rather nervous, but very enthusiastic young man, who introduced himself as Elthious. He seemed to be a secretary of some sort and had a huge stack of papers on his desk, presumably relating to the business of the town. The poor boy almost managed to knock these on the floor with his elbow while we were speaking, but Arin made a quick save before any harm was done, even taking the trouble to neaten up the top few pages for him before replacing them, which was a kind thought.
 
In fairly short order we received permission to go through to Lauriette’s office and, having left our wet cloaks and hoods in the antechamber, we stood before him once again. He too was full of thanks for our help with the potions - his little daughter Elspeth was much improved, which was very good to hear.
 
We offered any further help that he might need, and he said that it would be very useful if we could investigate the possible Root Garden connection. The disease has apparently been christened ‘swamp fever’ and the progression of its symptoms are becoming better understood. First an unusual hunger (such as Raphael had experienced), followed by a potentially dangerous fever. For those who recover from the fever (which I understand to be the vast majority), the cycle then repeats itself at unpredictable intervals. Lauriette mentioned that some people think the cause could possibly be a curse, rather than mundane in origin, and I fear that he could be right. Enessa mentioned the fairy circle out at Altria’s as a possible source of malevolent energy, but Raphael assured us with confidence that it was unlikely to be fae magic at work.
 
It was agreed that even if we were unable to uncover the source of the outbreak a trip to the Rootgarden would very likely yield some rare plants which might be useful in its treatment. It was therefore agreed that the Council would fund a ship to ferry us out and back, and would also offer some recompense for our time. Lauriette recommended Captain Dorienn of the Windstriker, who sounded like a most suitable fellow. Before we left, Raphael unexpectedly spoke up to ask if there was any other trouble that we should know about, pressing for an answer when the Councilman was reluctant to speak. In the end Lauriette admitted that there had been some rumors of strange fish men sighted around the northern docks, but since there was no actual evidence, he was inclined to dismiss the reports.
 
Raphael volunteered to make the practical arrangements with Ellthious, who he seemed to have taken a real shine to, and as we left the office I murmured to him to make sure that the town paid the lower end of the range of figures mentioned as our own fee. After all, the situation was obviously serious, and Drynna would need its coin if we were unable to offer a swift resolution. Raphael gave an almost imperceptible nod, and I knew immediately that I need not have spoken. His Lordship's manners might be a bit vulgar on occasion, but his generous spirit cannot be doubted.
 
As we made our way down to the docks, I looked around and did a double take as Zeni had apparently been replaced in our party by a rather nondescript looking human man! Seeing my startlement, she, speaking in a rough masculine drawl, reassured me that it was still her, it was just that her appearance had been magically cloaked. I touched her arm, and instead of the bulky homespun that I could see, my fingers touched Zeni’s smooth skin. It was a most disquieting experience, and I withdrew my hand quickly. I could see the advisability of such a disguise, given Zeni’s history, but seeing it happen made me a little uncomfortable. Getting used to the regular use arcane magic here is still hard, even after all these months. Not so Wind, whose eyes were as large as saucers, and who stared at Zeni’s new form with unabashed amazement and envy.
 
The Windstriker turned out to be a large vessel which was easily found. Captain Dorienn was on deck, wearing a rather dashing tricorn hat. I've never really seen the attraction of being a sailor, but there is no denying that the hats are a significant perk. He came to speak to us on the deck and Raphael explained our mission. Having a little time on their hands, and being as keen as anyone else to get the mysterious swamp fever dealt with, the Captain and his crew were happy enough to help (encouraged by the promise of the council’s gold). It was agreed that we would come on board the next day, an hour before dawn, so that we could make as early a start as possible.
 
We decided to make a quick check on the northern docks - the source of these mysterious rumours - just to be on the safe side, and it was almost on the way to Altria’s in any case (we had promised to call in there to get her requests for Rootgarden herbs and plants). As we got closer to the fishing dock, we began to hear sounds of commotion, and a couple of loud screams. We sped up, and as we entered the maze of narrow alleys around the dock front itself, it was clear that something was very wrong. Enessa scaled a building to try to get a better view of the problem, and shouted down to us that she could see a large lizard-like creature apparently attacking citizens to the east of our position.
 
The narrow passages made it slightly tricky to maneuver, but we all made it out onto the dock front eventually, where five or six of these amphibious warriors (which I later learned are called Sahuagin) were running amok. They were accompanied by a spellcaster who I think was using a form of divine magic, although I couldn’t discern its origins. I was hit by one of her spells at one point, and the pain of it felt like it was radiant energy, rather than fire. Even as it stung, I could feel a certain familiarity, and that gave me some pause. As I have been taught, it's rare for a truly evil creature to be able to call a radiant strike, and yet the actions of these sahuagin certainly seemed evil enough. By the time we had arrived they had already killed one innocent bystander, and they took another before we were able to stop them.
 
I am hesitant to report what I will say next, because I could be completely mistaken, but I need to tell someone I trust, and I'm not sure that Orlando would really understand why it matters. So here goes: during the battle, I twice felt a very strange energy originating with Raphael. If it hadn’t come from a dedicated servant of the Moonweaver, I would have said that it was some sort of hex or curse, and a fairly nasty one at that. I may just have been mistaken, I know, but I don’t honestly think that was the case. I am wracking my brain for any other explanation. If you have the time, could you please try to find out if there is anything associated with Sarenrae's followers which could explain this? I know that she is not always the most straightforward of deities, could she perhaps disguise her power as something else, for amusement or strategy? Any advice or information you can give me would be very greatly appreciated, although I know that getting messages back to me when I am moving around so much is not easy at the moment.
 
The sahuagin were pretty fierce, and once again Raphael had fought courageously on the front lines and needed reviving in the closing moments of the battle, although thankfully he made a remarkably swift and thorough recovery this time. Once they had all been dispatched, we helped to patch up the wounded civilians and to retrieve the bodies of the two who had been slain. Arin and I said a quick prayer over the dead, asking for the blessing of a peaceful journey to the next world. We invited Raphael to join us of course, and that was how I came to learn that the Moonweaver’s rites can only take place after sundown. Which just goes to show how much I don’t yet know about all aspects of her worship, and therefore made me feel slightly better about the other matter.
 
A few of the party took a rowing boat over to a tiny island in the harbour to have a look around, but they didn’t seem to find anything of note. Meanwhile Orlando asked the dock master about how long this problem had been going on, and he said that although the creatures had been seen a lot more lately, it had been mostly at night, and they had never attacked anyone before. They had been trying to report it to the authorities for some time, he said, but no-one had seemed to believe them. I thought back to the dismissive tone of Councilman Lauriette that morning, when discussing the ‘rumours’, and felt a sense of vicarious chagrin. We advised the man to preserve the corpses of the slain sahuagin as evidence, and said that we would report what we had seen at the earliest opportunity. The dockmaster was glad to hear it, but quietly I thought that really he shouldn’t need outsiders to tell his town’s leader’s what their own people had already warned them about. Government here leaves a lot to be desired.
 
We pressed on for Altria’s, and received her order for Chilling Pokeweed, Mermaid’s Breath and Windrush Fungus, could they be obtained. I love how poetic all the names for herbs and flowers are here! At home we probably just call Mermaid’s Breath ‘Purple Flower’ or something equally banal. Not that I have any idea whether this one actually is purple… Anyway, hopefully Arin or Enessa will be able to find them.
 
By this time we were all pretty wet and bedraggled, but we duly made our way back into town to report the incident at the docks to the council officials. Councillor Lauriette wasn’t there, but we gave over all the information which we had, and urged them to make sure that the area around the northern docks was, at the least, patrolled regularly. The gentleman we spoke to said he would try, but that he doubted it would be possible to do anything much. I was, if I am honest, quite annoyed by that - first they don’t believe the poor folk at the docks when they report what they have seen with their own eyes, and then, even when presented with hard evidence, they refuse to act to defend their own people! I think that he could see how unimpressed I was, and he drew a ledger from beneath the desk and opened it to today’s date. The long list of names recorded there was apparently all those watchmen and women unfit for duty, either because they themselves were sick, or because they were caring for someone else who was ill at home. The number of people available would barely constitute a skeleton patrol, and I must admit that I could see his problem. Sending watchmen to the docks would inevitably leave gaps elsewhere, and in order to be effective against the creatures we had fought they would need a reasonable number of people who were fit and ready for a fight. It was a very unsatisfactory situation all round, and I was deeply worried about what might happen in case of another attack, but there didn’t seem to be anything more we could do about it for now, so we headed back towards the Eagle’s Landing to get ourselves organised for the next day’s journey.
 
On the road back to Rebur’s place we ran into a few young lads who seemed to recognise Raphael - I guessed that they must have been beneficiaries of his soup kitchen. They waved to him enthusiastically, but looked rather cold and wet, sheltering from the rain which was still falling heavily. Raphael called them over, and said that although he wouldn’t be around for the next few days, they should call on Rebur, and say that he had sent them if they needed anything. It was good advice, and I’m sure that if they turned up on his doorstep Rebur would give them a hot meal at the very least. Then Raphael seemed to suddenly have a thought, and he crouched down to speak with the boys in more earnest. I could hear him describing the creatures we had fought at the northern dock and the boys’ eyes grew wide. Raphael gave instructions to spread the word about the danger, and to encourage people to avoid the area, or to evacuate if they had homes in that part of town.
 
What a great idea, and, I must confess, not one I would have even considered if I had been here alone. I asked them to wait a moment while I wrote a quick note to Brother Simon at the Temple of the Dawnfather, asking him to shelter any evacuees who had nowhere else to go, and to also keep a general eye on the situation in that part of town.
 
While I did that I could hear Raphael speaking low and urgently to the boys, he was reassuring them I would guess, after all, the situation might easily be very frightening to children. I signed and sealed the note, and passed it to what looked like the oldest of the boys to deliver to the Temple, telling him briefly what it contained, and to be sure to keep it as dry as possible. Before they left, Enessa stepped forward and pressed a coin into each child’s hand, saying something like ‘from the Heroes of Drynna’, and for a moment Raphael shot her a rather sharp look, but then he just smiled and sent them on their way.
 
We were all soaked through by the time we arrived back at the Eagle’s Landing, and quite tired.. As luck would have it, the room that Arin, Wind and I had shared was being cleaned and so Rebur offered us alternatives, which meant bunking alone for a change. I was very much looking forward to a restful, if short, night’s sleep and so I turned in early.
 
My dreams as I slept were incredibly vivid, and I woke in the small hours of the morning, my heart racing, filled with a strange sense of energy and anticipation. Rising from my bed, I struggled to recall the precise details of my dream… I had been flying high above a battlefield on broad feathered wings, as I had seen aasimar sometimes do in Vasselheim. As I thought about that feeling, a soft warm light began to fill the room. I twisted my body, looking over my shoulder and saw a mass of gently glowing white and golden feathers. They were huge, but completely insubstantial, passing through bits of furniture and through my outstretched hand when I tried to touch them. Even so, I knew for sure that they would bear my whole weight, even in armour, if I needed them to.
 
As you would imagine, I knew at once what this meant - my blood was waking, telling me that I was ready. I was shaking so hard that I could barely open the buckles of my pack, but I knew exactly what I needed to do. After all, I’ve rehearsed that moment in my mind since the very first day I came to Vasselhiem. I will draw a veil, as is proper, over what passed next, but I know that my pledge was accepted. Today I am a full daughter of the Church, and your true sister in the faith. It is the greatest honour I can imagine.
 
Once I had collected myself, and coming downstairs for a very early breakfast, I was surprised to see almost everyone already up and about. Despite the very short night’s sleep, there was a palpable sense of energy and excitement in the room. It was still night-time really, and the space was mainly lit by candles, so there were a lot of shadows in the corners of the room. Sabali seemed to be almost playing with these, jumping rapidly in and out so that they seemed to twist around him. It was probably my imagination, and the early hour fogging my senses, but the shadows seemed to be somehow moving with him. Whatever it was about, he was clearly having a lot of fun with it.
 
Wind was sat off by herself, which was unusual, and she seemed to be concentrating hard on a small piece of cloth in front of her, the colour of which was turning, at irregular intervals, from pink to yellow, and back again. I was amazed, because I had no idea that she could do anything like that, and if she could do then I would have expected her to have used any such talent to its maximum potential long since. It was then that I saw Zeni, clutching a cup of strong coffee and looking somewhat shell shocked. I went and sat down beside her, and gestured over at Wind, asking if she knew what sort of magic it might be. She did, as it turned out. Wind had surprised her last night, when she was studying, and preparing spells for the next day and had ‘asked’ (she said this in slightly pained tones, and I nodded sympathetically - I know what Wind’s asking can be like) Zeni to teach her some magic. In particular, the disguising spell which Zeni had used at the docks yesterday. Zeni wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened (again, I know exactly how that feels), but she had ended up spending several hours going over the basic principles of how that sort of magic works, and Wind had proved to be an astonishingly quick study. For the sake of my own peace of mind, I decided not to dwell for now on what Wind might be able to do with such a spell.
 
Zeni also showed me the page in her spell book where she had been working on the new invisibility spell which she crafted following her study of the disappearing spider (properly called a ‘phase spider’, apparently) last week. The page was covered in small dense writing, most of it in strange, indecipherable symbols, but she pointed triumphantly to the last few lines. It hasn’t been given a proper test yet, but she is confident that it will work. That could be a real game changer in combat, so I very much hope that she is right.
 
When I stepped outside to see if the weather had improved (it hasn’t) Enessa was outside with Ussi, running through some kind of training exercise. I have really enjoyed spending more time with them both over the last couple of weeks (watching Ussi playing in the long grass is always adorable), and Enessa has been kind enough to teach me the technique for her ‘hunter’s mark’. It’s very common among rangers, so she said, but it was completely new to me. Ussi is getting big now, he’s certainly not the kitten I originally took him for. He could be quite an effective ally in a fight I would imagine, but I don’t know if that is what Enessa intends for him. I’d hate to see him get hurt.
 
Back inside, Arin was sitting quietly on his own, looking perhaps a little grim, but resolved and calm. Raphael hadn't yet come down for breakfast, and as I poured my coffee I considered what I had seen of him over the past few weeks - had he used malign magic yesterday? Surely not. Surely. But even if he had done, perhaps he had his reasons. Had I not myself just sworn to set aside my own qualms and scruples in order to do that which needs to be done? It is at least possible that he may have done the same, for reasons that Saranrae in her wisdom deems worthy. His actions otherwise have certainly been honourable and courageous.
 
I can only hope that you can set my mind at rest on this point, Alywn, if by any chance you can get a letter back to me on the road.
 
Anyway, my reverie was interrupted by a whoop of delight from upstairs, and Orlando’s head, almost entirely black with grease and powder, poked around the door at the top of the stairs. ‘Miss Brightflame’ he called down ‘if you would be so kind as to spare me a few moments of your time, I have something which you might like to see’, and with that he disappeared again. Intrigued, I took my coffee along with me, and knocked on his door. He opened it a crack, and then, when he saw it was me, opened it all the way. He was grinning from ear to ear, and with a courtly little bow he motioned me towards the desk on the far side of the room. To my astonishment, there lay Bayou, looking almost as good as, if not new, then certainly as good as the last time I had seen it back home. It was almost like a miracle, but there it was, neatly polished (much cleaner than Orlando himself at this point), with powder and shot lined up alongside. Orlando was already wearing his gunbelt, and with great satisfaction he loaded and holstered the weapon, letting his coat fall to hide its shape. I don’t know whether he plans to use it openly here, but just knowing that he has it made me feel much better about facing whatever the coming days will throw at us.