Letters from Ailla
Dearest Brother Sorren,
I hope your work is going well. Forgive me for not writing the last year but at first the baby consumed all of my time. Then after a few months I was so ashamed at not writing that I found I couldn’t write, and the longer I went the more my shame grew until I didn’t know what to do!
Aelric finally show my anguish and pressed me to write. He said he would not talk to me until I put quill to parchment! I’m so lucky to have him. I think he misses you was much as I do.
I hope your travels lead to something remarkable! I wish you had told us where you were going so I could come and visit. It’s not so far that you can’t come to us, is it? Come visit, please.
Ellie has been doing so well! I can’t thank you enough for being there for us to help with her birth! Can you believe that she’s almost one?! She is healthy, happy, and making a lovely mess of our home.
Orlane grows and prospers. The mayor, Zakarias Ormond, is wise and strong and we trade regularly with Hommlet and the seat of the barony at Kuldara. Aelric works as a cobbler and a whitesmith, buying supplies from Simon the owner of the local store, and fixing little things around town. I help where possible. I’ve made thimbles for all the ladies! That was fun. And now we know everyone! It was a simple thing, but helped make us feel like part of the town.
Farmer Hewitt invites us to dinner at least once a week and we always accept. He has such a lovely family. I envy him. His eldest girl, Cirili, looks up to me, I think. She’s been helping me a great deal with Ellie and around the house. She has no taste for farming so we hired her as a nanny. I have also started to teach her sewing and whitesmithing. She is a fast learner.
The constable is a man named Grover. He’s a hard and suspicious man who originally tried to talk Aelric and I into returning to my father’s farm, but once we made it clear we were staying, he came around. He is not welcoming, but he treats everyone the same, which is a kind of fairness I suppose.
There is a temple to Lathander here. It makes me sad to see that beautiful place standing ruined. Many of the people remember when it was the source of the town’s fortune and health. But we have not seen a priest of Lathander in a long time, and it has fallen into disuse.
The town has two inns! Not even Hommlet, which everyone says is the better of the two towns, has two inns! The Golden Grain is the larger and more popular, but Aelric and I do not go there because the men who frequent the place are base and crude.
Instead we frequent the Slumbering Serpent which is smaller, but very nice. Ollwin the innkeep and his wife Belba were the first to welcome Aelric and I and made us feel at home. They are good people, I hope their inn prospers.
The people here are welcoming and hardworking. We are lucky to live here. But Aelric wants more, he is not satisfied mending shoes and pots and pans.
Ailla
Dearest Brother Sorren,
Good news! Kennoc, the town’s blacksmith left Orlane to work as a smith in Kuldara, which means Aelric is now our town’s blacksmith! I’m so proud of him!
It’s so much work. I’m up every hour the gods send helping him with the smithy. He’s such a proud man, he refuses to hire an apprentice and so pressed me into service. I don’t mind, I find the work very rewarding, and being with him in his work, sharing in it, brings me great happiness. I see him now, as the work piles up, thinking about bringing someone else one, and I confess I redouble my efforts. I’m jealous of an apprentice he hasn’t even hired yet! I’m such a fool.
I fair think I could do the work myself, were I so inclined. Blacksmithing isn’t that hard. After all, men do it and most of them don’t have the sense the gods gave a goose.
Cirili helps me greatly and spends almost as much time helping raise Ellie and working around the smithy as she does on the farm. She loves her family, I can tell, but dreads the life of a farmer. We’re lucky to have her as a friend.
Husband was eager for me to tell you the news. He admires you terribly. It would mean the world to him if you could write.
Ailla
Dearest Sorren,
The temple of Lathander is open! A nice young man, Rector Abramo, moved in. He showed me around and encouraged me to return. I asked him if he was overwhelmed with the task set out before him and he smiled. “Yes,” he said. “But Lathander’s power will allow me to rebuild this church as a symbol of his powers of rebirth.”
I thought that very wise. Our rector is a good man. The temple is still a ruin, it will take years of work to restore it, it is made of stone after all, but there is always a light in there now and it makes my heart glad to know someone is there, performing the rituals.
All blessings to Lathander, the Morninglord. May his dawn shine upon our hearts.
Ailla
Sorren,
I had the strangest thing happen to me today, and my first thoughts were of you.
I went to Tristram the carpenter’s shop and he did not recognize me! I’ve seen the man every day for the past year and it took him fully three bells to remember me and even then his speech was slow.
I have heard rumors of strange goings on in the town, but dismissed them as a fancy. I see houses and farms I knew, now standing empty. The constable says people are leaving for Hommlet, and at first I accepted this. Hommlet is larger and more prosperous.
But why should anyone leave Orlane? It is a paradise. I wish I knew our Lord Mayor better and could ask him. But his constable seems sure of what’s going on, so probably my concerns are misplaced.
Still, very strange looking into Tristram’s eyes and not seeing any sign of recognition there.
Please write back!
Ailla
Sorren,
More strange tidings, though I suspect it’s my imagination at work more than anything else.
I see strange men coming and going from the Golden Grain. This alone is not worth bothering about, I have never liked that place. But now Simon the owner of the town’s general store is acting strange. I went to buy some wool from him and he behaved exactly like Tristram! He didn’t recognize me for some long moments.
Well I didn’t want to stand there like an idiot while he looked at me waiting to remember who I am, so I introduced myself to the other man in the shop. A stranger, but a friendly one, if a bit … well, creepy.
He introduced himself as Garath Primo. I could tell by his raiment he was a priest, but I did not recognize the symbol on his chasuble, and he was pale and unkempt. His hair long and greasy. I introduced myself and asked him his business and very matter-of-factly he told me he was looking for an ancient Goliath temple. Well, I said, I was very sure there was no such thing around here! A demon-temple of those barbaric savages! Imagine it!
Then he said the most extraordinary thing. “On the contrary!” he said, and proceeded to tell me that Simon informed him of the location of such a temple out in the swamp!
Simon certainly looked cross as that, and I got the distinct impression that whatever Simon had told this man, it was supposed to be secret. But Primo seemed nice enough, even if unclean.
I went to the temple to ask Rector Abramo about this, and met a young lady instead. Misha, she gave her name. She was cold and distant to me and said Rector Abramo was lost in meditation. I saw Abramo pacing through the temple in the shadows behind her and called out to him, but he didn’t respond and Misha asked me to leave.
I do not like her. Where did she come from?
Ailla
Sorren,
No letter from you this past year. Are you angry with me? I would not blame you if you were, but please tell me how if I have offended you, if I have.
Are my letters not reaching you? I give them to a passing carter and he assures me he delivers them to a stout dwarf who does business with your order. But I wonder if this is perhaps not the most reliable chain of messengers. I’m sure if you saw what was happening in this town, you would know what to do.
Cirili is gone. More and more people leave as the days pass, but I’m surprised she left with no warning, not even a goodbye. Rumors that there’s a curse on this town now seem entirely reasonable. I don’t remember the moment when I stopped thinking the curse was an absurd fancy and started believing it was true, but it may have been when I learned Cirili was gone.
I wonder if she’s okay. Would she have left her family? Her father and mother and sisters? Why? I wonder if she really left of her own will.
I suppose I know the answer.
Ailla
Sorren,
Something is wrong with Aelric. He was gone for a night and I panicked, but Constable Grover assured me he went with some of the menfolk to Farmer Giles’ steading a few hours outside of town. But I know this is not true, Farmer Giles left for Hommlet a fortnight ago. His steading sits empty now.
I never for a moment believed Grover. But somehow I knew I had to pretend I believed, or the Constable would do to me whatever he did to Aelric.
Aelric smiles and makes smalltalk, but there is nothing behind his eyes. He does not know me, unless he looks at me for a long while. He spends all his time at the Golden Grain, conspiring with the men there. He sleeps there and in truth I do not complain. I could not share my bed with him now. His skin is cold to the touch. He is not Aelric.
Am I going mad? Is my husband possessed, and the rest of the town against me? Or is it I who am possessed?
I am not safe here. I do not know what to do. Please, Sorren please come. I beg you.
I am afraid.