Dear Kailie,

By the grace of…well, neither my family patron, nor any of her associated deities, for the Kethic gods have no influence beyond The Veil, but certainly by the grace of -someone-, I am beginning to feel more at ease here in Stannisberg. My life does not in any way resemble the structure and customs of my father’s house, nor is there any influence of my mother’s strict matriarchal traditions. There is excessively little over here that is in any way familiar. I should, by rights, be very discomfited, be at disease, and be regretting the youthful impulses that flung me a year across the world.

And yet I am not. I am finding both comfort and ease; I feel myself to be more of an adult than I’m positive I would have if I had permitted myself to be married to that human oaf my parents chose for me. (And really, how insulting. I know I was not always the best behaved, but certainly they could have envisioned a more appropriate punishment for me than -that-.)

Today began with a routine for which I am coming to be quite grateful. It was just a simple breakfast with Mister Reggie, but it helped chase away the doldrums following a most uncomfortable dream. We set about some errands next, and by turns encountered Karth and Pipi. It is a little funny how we keep running into each other.

Pipi wanted Karth’s help to escort some members of the Druid Circle out into the forest. It seems that there is what they are calling a “native grove” out there, a Circle made by indigenous Druids possibly before the settling of Stannisberg. Pipi had mentioned this grove once before, and as I had been eager to see it for myself, I fear I invited myself and Mister Reggie along on the excursion. No one seemed to mind, however, which was satisfying.

Judging from the route by which we would later return to town, I rather think that Pipi’s course out to this native grove could have been -much- shorter. However as I am always eager to spend time within the forest, I had no complaint.

When we arrived, we found great spiderwebs stretched between some of the trees. The Druids said they spelled a message in Druidic, so surely the Spiderkin who call this territory home must have a Druid among their midst. This message appeared to be a greeting, according to the Druids, and they seemed gladdened by it. We set about investigating the grove.

One of the Druids commented that there was another message spelled out, this one -with- the very trees themselves, which meant it was left here some time ago. I overheard something to the effect of, “I tried, but failed – sorry”. There is some sort of local mystery afoot involving a multitude of elements, and I am keen to discover if this was one of them.

I have shared with Pipi some bits of knowledge gleaned from certain locals who have lived in Stannisberg for decades. The family names Thayne and Ivory keep coming up, names which I do not recall from home, and in contexts which their kinsmen might not find overly flattering. This is especially true in the case of the name Thayne, which from that letter you will see we can make direct ties to the undead that plague the area. We have agreed amongst the four of us that we should like to liberate as many of these undead as possible from their plight, though time will yet tell how successful we are in this endeavor.

We did, however, fell more of the creatures on our way back to town. Actually, we heard a queer noise from our position within the grove that led us back toward town, into a fray between several of the local ranger forces and a large number of ghouls. Strangely, some of the ghouls fled upon hearing the names of the Kethic gods invoked by a peculiar looking man. He himself vanished after the fray, back into the forest, seeming to give chase. Alone. I cannot help but feel that certain elements of that display, and indeed the entire attack, were specifically for our benefit.

As you may imagine, a battle ensued. Karth neatly cleaved one of the ghouls in half; Pipi turned into a Direwolf at one point, which was amazing to see outside of a storybook; Reggie discovered that he can shoot fire from his hands, which given his propensity for detonating himself and our living quarters, I have mixed feelings about. We four fared well in the fray. The rangers, sadly, lost two of their number. Karth and myself helped them back to town, but Pipi had business to attend to with the Druids and Reggie was so startled by his own sudden arcane ability that he needed to rest.

On our way back into town, we encountered Mister Bartek, who looked -very- much the worse for wear since our last meeting. It seems that he was bitten by one of the frighteningly intelligent ghouls in the caves–the ones we now know to refer to as Lieutenants–and has taken ill. After seeking help from the temple of the local deity in the days hence, he had become desperate enough to also beseech one of the town apothecaries for additional aid. And to that end, he needed our help to journey into the swamp and gather medicinal herbs.

It was particularly satisfying to render such help, as I just kept thinking of all of those times when Arna rolled her eyes at me and my herbology studies. Even as different as some of the flora is on this continent, I have a knack for herbalism, and was able to easily recognize and collect the specimens we required. Karth has a good sense of the land itself, so he and Bartek worked together to forge our path through the swamp. Bartek looked as though he would have been more comfortable resting, but he insisted on accompanying us. Only apparently whatever illness he acquired was causing him to crave -very- rare, -very- fresh meat, so I tried to be wary of him as we traveled.

In the process of collecting our herbs, we again encountered Fingers, the rat creature I mentioned in a letter from nearly a week ago, now. Thankfully this was again a friendly encounter.

Back in town, the apothecary brewed the ingredients into a tincture with surprising speed. This man, called Brandon Tulwyn, is a skilled alchemist. Reginald could learn a thing or two from him. (I shall have to ask him if he has ever tried to apprentice himself. I think there may be an age difference between them, but if he could tutor Reggie, surely that wouldn’t matter? Humans are strange that way.)

Bartek quaffed the tincture and Karth and I escorted him to the temple for his night’s rest. Then we retired to Karth’s blacksmith shop so that he could examine some armor that we took upon slaying two of the ghoul Lieutenants.

This armor is -incredibly- queer, Kailie. Karth said that it is a fusion of Dwarven and Elven make, and very much -not- Kethic in origin. Surely I know of no notable alliances between Elves and Dwarves in Kethis or its neighbors that would yield such creations. This is local, indigenous, but still bears enough elements of each culture that it is recognizably both. They are also relatively recent, most likely, and bear signs of use–which makes me wonder what those Lieutenants could possibly have been fighting, given that they never attack Stannisberg. The letter did mention that the Lieutenants corral the lesser ghouls, so perhaps that is the source of the wear. Even so, it does make me wonder.

Karth did also say that this armor certainly looks uniform, as one might expect that of an active military force to wear. This makes me very concerned indeed. How many of these creatures are out there? Is there a secret army massing beneath our feet? How long until they decide that Stannisberg seems like a good target? There are so many questions–it’s best not to think too hard on them, particularly in the small hours of the night when distractions are few.

I am home now, or at least, in the space that serves as home for the time being. Perhaps someday I shall build a little house of my own, and fill it full of dried herbs and books and sketches of the local wildlife. And I am certain that somewhere in that mix would be a sketch of you.

How I wish you could join me, and see the sights of this fascinating land.

Yours,

X