Harvest Festival

There has been some question as to the veracity of this journal entry, it appears almost completely isolated from the collection of letters referenced and had been found in a private collection far removed from the provinces but it is featured for the first time in this collection for the benefit of researchers who might wish to debate it. If it is real, it shows a growing affection towards Nastia. One of the key reasons this letter is questioned is that the navigator's first heir is born soon after and there is no mention of an expectant mother to be, or the coming child, something historians agree the navigator would not have been able to resist writing about. This is one of the primary reasons the letter has been questioned, if it is real then it casts doubts on the claims of his kin to his fortune and lands, though there are other reasons a student of his writings would find to question its authenticity.

This year’s harvest festival arrived far too soon I had felt. There were so many things I wished to accomplish but had not been able to achieve this year. Curiously the enemy was quiet, the thrust I had expected had not come, and the Prince launched no great counter-offensive. The nobles bicker, and though I have attended only two gatherings, I have been kept abreast of developments by my thunderblood allies in the council. This year it seems the monsters of the pom were content to lick their wounds or too busy perhaps fending off Drazil's brethren who have waged successful harassment and infiltration campaigns against them. My own home remains unfinished, habitable and cozy but quite unfinished.

If not for the sweet companionship of Ms Leipzig I would be quite dour this week. She has seen to it that my new butler Dalton, newly acquired from her own staff, has been acquainted with the local markets and so he has been able to prepare a weak of feasts fit for a king of the thunderbloods, and so I an rejuvenated and quite happy despite my lack of production and the tiring summer labors we have endured.

Tonight I was enjoying a bit of fun with Nastia when she asked me why I kept an eye patch in my war kit. I teased her that I had once lost my eye in battle and was forced to sprout a new one. One of the thunderbloods who was in the feast hall and had lost his eye in battle then challenged me to show him how I had done this. I convinced him to go through the most ridiculous process of balancing a salt cube on his nose while standing on one foot and blowing into his thumb. I chanted over him and Nastia mouthed the words trying to pick up the incantation then, as I had expected the dwarf fell over, unconscious. The room erupted in laughter and poor Nastia realized that she too had been the butt of a joke. She slapped me of course and demanded the real story.

Once we were certain our one eyed dwur friend was alright, I told the hall why most pirates carry an eye patch in their kit. Of course this reminded me of the findings I had in researching werelight. I decided to finish that work this winter, and asked Nastia to remind me about that, she agreed if only I would not ask her to test the eye patch explanation. I relented of course, and asked Dalton to have one sized for my dear lady friend. The next evening, I was pleased to present her with her own appropriately decorated, blue silk and silver lace eye patch with a trio of tiny pearls studs. Churchill caught her in the stairwell trying to test it, and without the benefit of depth perception she enjoyed mixed results judging from Churchill’s sense of amusement.

Later I caught up with her again, as I counted out coins lost in a wager to Cade who I suspect cheated me yet again, I’ll catch him one day. Nastia had asked about a stack of letters beside me. Most I told her were routine matters, receipts for work done on the keep shell (which is now complete) and suggested plan revisions for the internal spaces resulting from the burgeoning village inside the shell.

There was one letter in particular she was curious about, one with particularly heavy leather wrapping. It was from my brother Talbot, it was cryptically brief “I’m setting sail to Gryax to see you in a fortnight, expect me to be no more than a moon behind this letter” and it hardly seemed worth the trouble to send she asked to inspect it accusing me of being overly crafty and having influenced her unduly. She held the paper to moon light and fire and found indeed my brother was hiding another message with the ink of a lime. I marveled at her clever intuition and let her read the contents. The content of the hidden message shed little light on the matter; it was a poem only that itself might hold some additional meaning. Nastia thought it might be a part of a spell, or a riddle and I dared her to solve it, she disappeared into her quarters taking a bottle of wine and a bowl of fruit with her.

I found another letter I had not opened, one that had arrived only a few days ago, sent by guild courier. It seems my insurance claim for my tools lost two years ago aboard Tempest had finally been paid, and the guild was holding 200 gold coins in trust for me to obtain new tools. I had to laugh, I was just at the guild a week ago and now I would have to travel again to claim the cash, which I needed desperately. I could send an agent but the road is dangerous now, several recently used monsters camps have been found and missing person reports are on the rise. I would have to make the trip myself. Even better, my name had been officially cleared of any wrong doing by the admiralty and for the first time, I was addressed by the Uleki court in written correspondence as Sir Redding. I read on, and learned a Tempest passenger had be found alive and appeared before the court to make a claim against the shipping company and its mutinous crew. The passenger’s identity was not noted but I decided to rush off first thing in the morning in hopes of thanking him for his testimony.

The other events of the summer that should be noted include the loss of dear Sam, who was a frequent sailing companion without him I might have become a land lubber long ago. When old friends are lost, new ones might appear. In this instance I have found another Cuthbert priest, this one a woman named Evelyn who is quite lovely, and the miscreant Igraine whose perfume lingers in some of my kit, as I suspect she planned in order to drive Nastia to madness. It would be a lie to say that I was not amused when I see her suddenly alert searching for her nemesis after fetching an item from my haversack. Le Toux’s grim work and detached lack of empathy might be driving a wedge between us, I haven’t spent enough time with working with him this year and what I was able to do I fear disappointed him. Gallon and I have been drawn closer however; at least as I am able to better engage in dialectic with him on matters of faith and conscience. I think he holds out hope I will see the error of my ways not realizing that error, is a part of my way, which I cannot hope or care to explain to him. I like him just as he is.

Tomorrow then I will depart to the coast once more, leaving Dalton in charge which has displeased Cade enough that he has said he might leave, despite coming no further along on our joint crusade to repair his ear. I think he’s beginning to accept that that will simply never happen and the appearance of daring do and dashing bravado the near miss provides him. The tale has been worth more than one free drink, and I wish him well of course, if he would only limit himself to what he alone can pilfer when he leaves.

A rare letter to Perry

There is a conspicuous absence of correspondence and writings by the navigator during the remainder of the summer and early fall until this letter to Kildare’s priest. The letter is almost sortid and gossipy, possibly explaining his later run in with the rogue Igraine.

Honorable Brother Perry,

I wish first to apologize for departing without much detail and for taking Gallon from your mission to attend me on this summer’s expedition. Regrettably we were unsuccessful on many fronts, and I do hope you have fared better. I am again away from Havenhill on the morrow, and have missed you again. I hope you will trust that I have not forgotten my pledge to assist you in restoring the chapel we found ruined during last year’s incursion. It is amazing to me to think that it has already been a year passed, and another winter is drawing near –where has the time gone?

As I had said, I am traveling again, this time with a small group of the refugees [presumed to be from Ironhelm, Prinzfeld or Oakenburg] who wish to resettle in the capitol. Amongst them is a particularly curious young lady who apparently believes I have forgotten her. Her name is Igraine la fey, be wary of her if she should cross your path. I am not one given to gossip but in this case the consequences of mistaking this beauty for an ally could be grave. She is quite fetching, with a bright golden tresses and brilliant eyes that reflect a hint of sadness. She is of slight build with a peculiar identifying mark; her olven heritage has given her slender and sharp ears but they point downward, and the tips turn inward close to her head making them difficult to notice. She was a necromancy student at the Bar Harbor academy during my brief enrollment there. She was implicated in the disappearance of another student and was known to have seduced an instructor which eventually led to his own dismissal. She continued on at the school only briefly after that and then vanished into the underworld of the south district.

I cannot say how she came to be amongst the group of refugees but I know that she is shunned by more than a few of them. She is precisely the callous, cynical, and calculating woman that gives so many a bad names; she is of a type I can’t quite name or explain but that I cannot tolerate.

Today she has presented herself asking to join the venture to the capitol but I suspect she may return to Havenhill seeking to curry favor of Cromwell or other gentlemen known for susceptibility to the charms of an alluring young woman that might show them interest and a hint of lusty titillation. She might travel between the two cities carrying on illicit activities and you should be aware that she could harm your parishioners. I am sure she will not harm me, for she is aware of who and what I am, and while she believes I am clueless about her, I know at worst she will pilfer a few components or coins, of which I have few.

When I arrive at Gryax, Nastia will assuredly defend her territory and drive the would-be seductress away; possibly back towards you. Do not tolerate her wickedness; drive her from your sight she will not be turned to the narrow path of the wise fool.

Best wishes for all successes dear friend,

The Magoi Sir Kildare Redding