In which shadows of the past loom large

Well, I said that I would write again, before I posted this bundle of letters, and so here it is. It is rather longer than I had anticipated, but I hope you will forgive my rambling. Putting my thoughts down on paper always helps me to get them straight in my own mind.
 
After our visit to the Lodge, and before we made any decisions about Althia, we tried to find out as much relevant information as possible. Arin, Raphael and I went to the Light Temple to see Father Pickleknot who had been responsible for distributing the medication which Althia had prepared, while Wind and Enessa went to visit Elder Albrich, who had served on the council at the time of the dragon attacks. Both conversations largely confirmed what we had suspected from speaking with Loriette - that the medications which Althia had supplied had been effective in treating the symptoms of the disease, if not its cause, and that some sort of deal had indeed been done with the hags at the time of the dragon attacks.
 
After that, we went to see Althia herself, to determine what course of action would be best to follow from this point. Some in the party were still nervous about how potentially hostile she might become, and Orlando had spent the hour or so when I was at the temple crafting special bullets which he thought might be more effective against the fae than the regular variety.
 
On the positive side, this encounter did not in fact end in violence, but even so, as you can imagine, it was a very difficult and distressing conversation. We brought news of the death of Althia’s two sisters after all, and of their descent into madness. Seleena’s fate in particular was a terrible one, and much worse even than Althia had feared, I think. She had been long estranged from them both, but even so, they were her kin and her grief was painful to witness.
 
She was gracious enough as we asked our questions, and in brief, this is the tale she told us - at the time of the dragon attacks the three sisters had volunteered to help the town (although Althia was adamant that there was no formal deal in place, merely an offer made from good will). They were successful in their efforts, using some sort of glamour to make the town less noticeable and so avoid attack. However, in the performance of this magic, their hag forms could not be disguised - some members of the council were present, they saw what happened, and, once the danger was passed, had made them feel so unwelcome that they left the town, and settled instead in the Rootgarden.
 
There, Barithia and Seleena had remained, living alone for many years and growing ever more angry and resentful. In contrast, after a relatively short time, Althia had returned to Drynna, settling back where she lives now, and serving the town faithfully as apothecary. Those few who knew her true nature had apparently been willing to turn a blind eye. As a result of this separation, she had neither seen nor heard from her sisters in many years. When the swamp fever had come to her attention, she had guessed that they might be behind it, but she had had no certain knowledge either way, and had said nothing to anyone about her suspicions.
 
The reaction of our little party to this story (which I believe to be the truth), was very mixed. Far more so than I might have expected. With the notable and voluble exception of Enessa, and more quietly perhaps also Arin and Orlando, I was rather taken aback at the lack of empathy for a person who was very obviously suffering. Some of them, Zeni in particular, blamed her for not coming forward to accuse her sisters when she had first suspected their involvement. Up to a point, I can understand that instinct, especially since we ourselves faced dangers which might perhaps have been avoided had we been forewarned. The truth though, is that any such moral requirement would produce something closer to tyranny than justice. To be obliged to report every suspicion of friends or family, under pain of being considered complicit if you did not - what sort of society would that be? And what if she had been wrong in her supposition? What might have happened to her sisters then?
 
Althia herself clearly feels a heavy weight of guilt for her silence, although I think that if she had spoken, then she would be feeling just as culpable for the act as for the omission. It was not a situation where any choice would have been an easy one to live with.
 
I don’t like it that Althia is alone out here - her sisters fell to madness, and grief is a storm whose onslaught can unmoor even the strongest foundations. Against it’s chaos, even the relatively comprehensible pain of guilt can seem like a comfort, although in truth it is a poison to the mind and the spirit.
 
She said how much she values the friendship of the councilman, Loriette. Indeed that was one of the reasons that she offered for not wishing to leave Drynna and start anew. If I get the chance, I will tell him that she has suffered a family bereavement, and ask him to call on her. Her appearance is somewhat altered now (to lessen the chances of recognition by the people of Bel), but grief could easily explain such changes. A reminder of how much she means to this town, and hearing from her friend directly how much her medicines have helped people, may be as good a remedy as can be hoped for at present.
 
Although I think that by the time we left things were at an acceptable point, it was a tense and uncomfortable conversation for the most part. Raphael, who, by prior agreement, did much of the talking, was unusually cold and unfeeling, to the point that at times it seemed cruel. I have not seen him like that before, and eventually I had to intervene. I doubt that Enessa would have allowed it to continue in any case. I don’t think that he was intending to cause unnecessary pain, but he clearly felt that he had the right to sit in judgement and conducted himself accordingly. It was often a very unpleasant dynamic - at one point Althia refused to speak further to him, saying that if he had come to execute her, then he should just get on with it. That tells you something of his manner.
 
Zenirith went further still - not only claiming the right to judge, but condemning Althia roundly for her failure to accuse her sisters. As a ruling, it was harsh, and, I think, not very reasonable - although, having now heard a little more of Zeni’s story, I can see why she might be likely to think about justice primarily in terms of punishment.
 
Althia, for the most part, remained patient and admirably composed under a barrage of questions, insinuations and, finally, grudging pledges of tolerance. It did her credit. I doubt that I would have so much grace in similar circumstances.

All in all, the suspicion and hostility offered a good object lesson in what might happen were the townsfolk at large to learn of her nature. Raphael intends to doctor the scraps of writings recovered from Barithia’s house in order to conceal Althia’s true identity, which she has agreed to. I think it is a sensible precaution, all things considered, and I will gladly explain to the council that in my judgement it was necessary. If they want to take issue with that, then they can do so with me. Based on what I have seen, I am more than satisfied that justice would not be served by the alternative, at this stage at least.
 
Whether Zeni will be content to hold her peace on the matter, given her attitude to the whole situation, I don’t know, but in truth there is really nothing which I can do about that.
 
At length, we left Althia to begin brewing more medicines for Dryanna, with the herbs which had been gathered from the Rootgarden. Arin returned later to assist her in her work, which was a very good thing, I think. I hope that the task, and his quiet company, served to sooth her mind. The rest of us retired to the old bandit camp area, and made our own preparations to stay the night - it being too late to return to town.
 
Zeni, sadly, had returned to Melora’s shrine, and had again dishonoured that holy place by removing coins that had been placed there on our outward journey. Orlando and I, noticing her absence, and fearing some such thing, discovered her there. She seemed deep in thought, and when confronted, she said (and I summarise here), that since Althia was not to be punished for her wrongdoing, was not to ‘learn a lesson’, then there was no reason for her, Zeni, to learn from her own mistakes. That is the flawed logic of a child, and to hear it from someone with the kind of power that Zeni wields was jarring. Whatever she thinks about Althia, it can change nothing about the quality, or the wisdom, of Zeni’s own conduct. I did my best to explain that, but she would not listen, and in the end I replaced the coins myself and offered what prayers I could, asking that Melora pardon this second insult.
 
The truth is, I doubt that Zeni’s outburst really had anything much to do with Melora, or even with Althia, and instead had everything to do with Zeni herself and her own pain. I just wish that I knew enough about the Wildmother to understand whether she is likely to care about that sort of detail.
 
Although I did my best to find a suitable form of words, I don’t even know whether Melora regards intercessory prayer as valid - I asked Orlando whether he knew anything of the proper rituals, and what he said about faith requiring an individual commitment made me think perhaps he does know that the Wildmother will not hear prayer on behalf of another. Although, I think that most likely he was just offering his best guess, seeing how troubled I was by what had happened. Faith has never been something he had paid much mind to, in fact I doubt he could even tell you much about most of the public rituals of the Platinum Sanctuary, and he has been there often enough with me. If he ever does find his faith, then it will be a personal thing, I think, and not the community of belief that the Church represents. Of course, each person must encounter the divine in their own way, and I would not grudge anyone their path to God, but I must admit that I find it hard to understand the appeal of that solitary way. We need not stand alone, after all, either in this world or the next. We are what we are by virtue of our connections, our society and family, and our love for one another. Why should Melora not be moved by my care for Zenirith and what might happen to her? The Gods are no strangers to emotion after all, for all their power.
 
Anyway, I have done what I can there, perhaps it helped, perhaps not. At the end of the day, if Zeni is determined to tempt fate in this way, then I have to accept that it is not something I will be able to prevent.
 
Gathered again around the fire, we ate a late supper, and talked, mostly of times past. Perhaps it was the witnessing of Althia’s pain which brought to the surface reminders of other struggles, but nearly everyone had a tale to tell, some exposing raw and painful wounds which have not yet even begun to heal. Half the people here are barely into adulthood (back home they would almost be in the schoolroom still), and yet their lives have been hard in ways that neither Orlando or I could reckon with. We both have had our ups and downs, of course, but nothing at all like these bone-deep scars. I exchanged glances with him as they spoke, and I guessed that his thoughts tended the same way as mine. We had been lucky. Blessed, I might say, although he would put it differently I am sure.
 
One thing that struck me in the wake of speaking with Althia about her sisters, was that most of these accounts had their roots in the loss or disruption of the family. Zeni and Sabali, snatched at a young age and with no memory of their roots, Arin, whose parents’ disappearance had prompted his entry into Ioun’s church, Wind, who avoids even the simplest questions about her family, Enessa, forced to flee her home in circumstances that remain unspoken, and Raphael, who, as I will tell you in due course, has no recollection at all of his people. Orlando’s case is rather different - his family is in Kraghammer, and I’m sure that he could go back there if he chose, and that they would welcome him. And yet, as you yourself will probably have heard from him, he came to Vasselheim as much to escape the weight of their expectations as for any other reason, and I doubt he feels that returning is truly an option. Not yet, at any rate.
 
Listening to them speak, I thought at first that I myself was truly the exception here. After all, I have not just one, but two loving families. My parents and my brothers, safe at home, and then my sisters and brothers of the faith, all those (like yourself) who have become my second kin, and are as dear to me as my own blood. And yet out here, in truth, I have been very much alone. You will not even read this letter for weeks, and I don’t know when or where your reply might reach me. One thing which I have learned in these months of travel is that such solitude does not suit me. Some thrive on that freedom, but not me, I need people by my side. Travel is a fine thing, and the world is truly full of wonders, but still, it is hard to put into words how much I have missed home this year. It feels like a piece of my heart is gone, not to have the people that I love around me. Perhaps my story shares more in the common theme than I might at first have thought.
 
In the first letter of this bundle, I tried to give you an impression of my companions, as I first encountered them. Let me do so again, after a month of acquaintance and in light of the tales each told.
 
I will begin again, as last time, where things are perhaps most straightforward, with my old friend Orlando. It has been so good to have him by my side these last weeks, especially after so many months among strangers. Apart from the pleasure of his company, to have someone that you know for certain that you can count on in any situation just makes everything more straightforward. He remains very much his old self - good humoured, full of wisdom, and endlessly curious - and yet this last month last left its mark on him. I would say that the biggest change is that over the past couple of weeks he has been using Bayou quite openly, and last night he shared with the whole group more of that story than I would have imagined possible in such mixed company. Since Sprocksmith gave him news of Whitestone, and the prevalence of such devices there, it seems to have altered his perspective considerably. I think that he has actually rather enjoyed being able to openly show off his mastery of the weapon these past weeks, and he has done some tricks with it that certainly I had never seen before, or imagined might be possible. Discussing it with Sprocksmith seems to have set off a whole new cascade of ideas as well - it would not surprise me if I soon had news to report of a much improved Bayou, or even perhaps of a successor.
 
The priest, Arin Veris, I have also come to trust. He is a man of relatively few words, but he does not shirk his duty, even when that duty is difficult or dangerous. His own story, told for the first time last night, is rather a strange one. His parents disappeared when he was still a boy, and then he found Ioun’s Church which offered both solace and shelter. He certainly has a remarkable mind of the sort much beloved by that holy order, although whether by a natural gift or by their training I don’t know - perhaps both. His family were merchants, not normally a calling associated with much danger, and yet both his mother and his father vanished without trace. Not to know what became of them must have been very hard for a young boy , but perhaps the Knowing Mistress, and her passion for unearthing secrets of all kinds, gave him a sense of hope that one day the mystery may be solved.
 
I still don’t know why he came to Drynna a month ago, or what his plans are next. His order may have business that takes him far off, but perhaps he has the freedom to travel as he will. If we are to continue as a group, as some say that they wish to do, then we really need him with us. When it comes to healing magic, neither my skills nor Enessa’s are likely to be enough, given how quick some members of this party are to place themselves in danger.
 
On which note, in typical breezy style, as though it were barely worth mentioning, Wind chose last night to tell everyone about her brush with the gang of thugs known here as the Clasp. I knew something about this before, having unwittingly seen off a pair of their messenger boys who had been harassing Wind back in Emon, not long after she and I crossed paths, but I didn't realise that they were still on her trail. That sort of pursuit might explain why she left for Drynna, and would certainly account for her willingness to continue to travel with this party even after we had led her to places where she had repeatedly got wet and/or muddy, and had even, horror of horrors, been asked to sleep on the ground.
 
Mind you, for all her love of life’s comforts, she is brave and resourceful, and can more than hold her own in a fight. Once Wind has decided that she is on your side, then that is that, and I am very happy to be able to call her a friend. If she still feels, under the circumstances, that she would be safer travelling than remaining here, then I would gladly welcome her company for as long as she wishes it. Her recent, and very surprising, acquisition of magical powers, has after all made camping about a thousand times more pleasant than it usually is. At first, it was quite annoying that she wouldn’t allow me entrance to my own tent until she had worked her cleaning spell on me and on all my gear, but, I must admit, I have got rather used to sleeping quarters that are always dry and clean, and which somehow smell actually pretty good, even in the swamp.
 
Enessa told us a little more of her own story last night too, and it is one which I must confess I had been very curious to hear. She hails from a place far to the East in Wildemount, called Xhorhas, which I had never heard of before. It means that she is even further from home than I am, although she only left there a few months ago. She didn’t speak much of her home, and not at all about her family, but I got the sense that there was a great deal of heartache associated with those memories. She had had to leave quite suddenly, by the sound of it, and with little to no planning or preparation. Arriving on Tal’Dorei with almost nothing, she was quickly assaulted and robbed of what little she had possessed. Rebur, it seems, had helped her to find her feet again, but she had remained wary of him, and had told him nothing of her origins. She is truly a remarkable young woman, immensely talented with the bow, certainly, but also caring, quick-witted, and (despite what she has been though) as ready to see good in folk as evil. Several times now, I have seen her draw on her own painful experiences, and find a way to transmute them into something which will help someone else. I don’t know if she even realises that she is doing it, but that sort of instinctive generosity of spirit is a rare blessing.
 
It is Zeni and Sabali who have perhaps had the hardest start in life. Both were captured and enslaved as young children by a pirate captain by the name of Drakkar, and both seem to have endured appalling conditions. They are even now barely adults, and yet they have been through so much already. That sort of hardship leaves its mark, especially on children, and maybe in ways which they themselves are yet to fully appreciate.
 
Sabali’s young life has certainly been harder than any child should endure, and yet finding the the Shade Temple seems to have been a salvation of sorts. Although he did spend time, even some years perhaps, on Drakkar’s ship, he was sold on to other masters and in due course found his way to the Temple, which is where he learned the martial arts which he has put to such excellent use in combat over the past month. He is a naturally cheerful and optimistic soul, but I think it is probably the teachings of this Temple which have helped him to find balance, and to put what happened to him into some sort of context and perspective.
 
Zeni, on the other hand, remained with Drakkar until only a few months ago, eventually escaping into the outskirts of the rootgarden and then making her way to Drynna and finding sanctuary at the Eagle's Landing. That is almost an entire lifetime spent aboard a corsair, which is hard to even imagine. Pirate lords are notorious for ruling their people, freefolk and slaves alike, with an iron fist, and it seems very probable that Zeni’s life, until very recently, has been almost entirely ruled by violence, and defined by a sense of powerlessness. Indeed, she herself describes a world of constant abuse and fear. That she found the strength to escape is a sign of how resilient she really is.
 
She spoke again last night about the mentor who had helped her to take the first steps in discovering her magic, and who had been murdered by Drakkar. She has sworn vengeance against him for that deed, and truly, the man should be brought to justice for his crimes, this included. Her anger though, understandable as it undoubtedly is, is so great that it threatens to overwhelm her. Unlike Sabali, the only framework she has to manage it is the example set by Drakkar himself, and he seems to have governed his people with a harsh and retributive sense of order.
 
In general terms, anger is one of the most dangerous emotions - even in its most righteous and selfless form it distorts the judgement and clouds the mind. More often it eats away at the person who feels it, making them lash out at any target within reach in an effort to find some relief from its pressures. Seeing Zeni tending the wounded, or watching with quiet satisfaction as people enjoy a meal she has prepared, no-one would doubt her capacity for kindness, but this anger is a darkness which she must find a way to overcome or she risks perpetuating the same unforgiving cruelties which she herself has suffered.
 
Even Sabali, not usually the voice of moderation in our discussions, cautioned her against the danger of slipping onto an evil path in the quest for retribution. His words on proportionality and the need for the means as well as the ends to meet the test of justice contain wisdom that we would all do well to heed. After all, we have seen these last weeks what happens when resentment and anger are allowed to dominate.
 
I come now to the most difficult part of this account - the tale told by Raphael. I don’t how much of it to take at face value - some parts were truly fantastical, but I think it is probable that he himself believes at least most of it to be true. I’m going to skip over a number of the more bizarre and unlikely details here, and just give you the heart of the account, and you will see the problem readily enough from that.
 
In short, Raphael claims that he was given his magical sword by a daughter of the Raven Queen named Mab. She is a fae of some sort, and he refers to her as a Queen, although I don’t know if that is a title she would claim for herself. Whether she is the Raven Queen’s true daughter, or merely a daughter of her church I do not know. This Mab rescued him, although he has almost no memory of what from, or indeed of anything at all before that time. She gave him the sword he now bears (which is named Frostweaver), and she swore him to her service then and there. This was a little more than a year back.
 
He compared the oath which he gave Mab to my own vow, but when I questioned him on it, it sounded like it contained nothing more than a pledge of obedience to her will. That is far more like the oath of a liegeman to his earthly lord than that sworn by a paladin of any stripe. I tried to explain what a true Oath is, and how it works, but I don’t think that it sank in at all.
 
Lord Raphael Neverwood, by the way, is not his real name, which he claims not to know. It is an alias, invented on Mab’s instruction, and chosen to give him an easier passage through life. Which would certainly explain some things at least.
 
Of course, if what he says about not remembering his past before meeting Mab is true, then very likely there are people out there somewhere who are mourning the loss of a son or a brother, perhaps even a father. It is very possible that they are looking for him even now although whether he would want to be found under these circumstances is another matter, of course.
 
Before I go on, I must acknowledge the possibility that he is merely a sorcerer of some sort who is suffering from a serious disturbance of the mind, and who has somehow got hold of an enchanted sword. To be honest, if it wasn’t for the reactions of Althia and Barithia, to both the sword and the name, then I would be inclined to regard this as the most likely explanation.
 
It was clear that both hag sisters had heard the name Mab before, and both seemed to regard it as at least plausible that Raphael spoke on her behalf. It’s worth noting that they both regarded the mention of her name as a threat. Althia, when Rapahel showed her the blade, recognised it at once, and referred to him as ‘Mab’s hitman’. An interesting term, that, I know, but the point I want to draw here is that the name Mab had not yet been uttered in that conversation (which had been conducted entirely in common), so this is the best evidence I have that part of this tale bears at least some sort of relationship to reality.
 
Raphael claims that the shadowy figure which we saw on the way to Bel was Mab, and that she gave him useful information when they spoke. I don’t really see how that could have been the case, but he did share his knowledge of the heartstone soon after that occurred, so perhaps that part may be true as well. He did appear very much disturbed by the incident at the time, although to be fair, no one was exactly happy about being stalked by some mysterious spectre. He refers to Mab as a goddess, but, on balance, that seems unlikely, even on a broad interpretation of that term. I felt nothing of celestial energy that day when we supposedly encountered her in the swamp. But nor, importantly, did I sense a fiendish presence either.
 
In any case, regardless of these details, the most important thing here is that he has apparently sworn himself her bondsman. That would be a serious commitment in any context, but I am beginning to get a sense of the particular weight which the fae place on all such bargains and arrangements. If he wished to be his own man again, I doubt she would release him easily. At the moment that does not seem to worry him, but it clearly should.
 
When asked, Raphael claimed that the fae, Mab included, are ‘neither good or evil’ and used this formulation to duck most of Sabali’s pertinent questions about Mab and her likely intentions. Now, on the one hand, this is trivially true - with very, very few exceptions, no creatures are good or evil in their natures, we all choose whether to walk a righteous path or not. If that is what he meant, then, yes, this Mab, whoever she may be, fae or human, queen or pauper, she chooses her path like any other being. If he meant instead that the actions of the fae cannot be evaluated according to normal standards of good or evil, then that is just an absurd suggestion. The moral quality of an action doesn’t change because of the nature of the person who acts.
 
He also claims that she has so far given him no orders which he would be ashamed to carry out, and for what it’s worth, I think that probably is true. When pressed on what he would do if and when she did require a service that he regarded as unconscionable, he first avoided the question, and then finally he confirmed that he would abide by his oath of service. What else could he say, after all? His word is given.
 
I’m not such a fool as to not see the implications here, and the risks, but still, I don’t think this case is as straightforward as you might be thinking.
 
There is a name for those who accept servitude in exchange for power such as that which the sword apparently contains. I know that you are thinking it, and, rest assured, so am I.
 
Bear with me here, because I think that the question of how she has swayed him to her service is a relevant one. Sabali suggested that it might be a more powerful and subtle version of the charm used by the hags to lure people to Bel, and that seems like a very real possibility. On the other hand, she may simply have found a way to erase his previous memories and then appear before him in all her evident glory, as apparent saviour. That would be a hard sell to resist, even without a charm. Or perhaps she really did save him from some other, unrelated catastrophe. In any of these cases, even the last, to press a man to service under such conditions speaks very poorly of any would-be liege.
 
The issue now, of course, is what to do from here. I know that common sense would say that to travel with a man so compromised is asking for trouble. Raphael is no longer free to choose his own loyalties, and if Mab required him to betray us, then presumably he would do it. Even if he disliked the idea, I suspect that he would have no choice in the matter. We know nothing at all about her motivations or her allegiances, and so it is impossible to judge from what direction such a betrayal might come. It’s obvious from what I have seen so far that Raphael is good at getting people to see things the way that he wants them to - there is a strong chance that we would not see it coming, and that fact represents a very serious danger to us all.
 
On the other hand, by his account this bargain, if such it may be called, was pressed upon him under circumstances where it could hardly have been refused. Now, I don’t know if he has been charmed, or tricked, or was simply caught at a moment when he truly had no alternatives, but in the time I have known him, he does not strike me as power hungry or corrupt, in the way that one might normally expect from those who make such compacts. I can just imagine you shaking your head over my naivety at this, but honestly, I don’t think that I am wrong about this. I understand what the church would probably say is happening here - what you would probably say is happening - but he did not not seek out the sword, or Mab, and that makes a difference. I hope it does anyway.
 
This might be the wrong call, I admit, but I would like us all to stay together, Raphael included. Travelling as a party is certainly far more interesting than travelling alone, and I think that perhaps together we can help one another to heal, and to grow stronger. The fact is that I like all these people, even given Zeni’s spikiness, and Raphael’s slippery relationship with the truth (not to even mention whatever nonsense Wind undoubtedly has brewing), and I would like the chance to get to know them better.
 
I will post this today, along with the others from my arrival in Drynna onwards. I don’t really know when I will next get a chance to send the next packet, but sooner than in another month I hope. Perhaps from Whitestone if that is indeed where the road next takes me.
 
For now, I send my love to all those at home. Please hug everyone for me, and pass on what news you can without worrying people unduly.