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  • edited January 4

    Day 81 of the Waking Moon, Year 450

    Lans emerged from the staircase. He barely even noticed the now-familiar cloud of ginseng smoke wafting in from across the great hall, nor did he pay any mind to the distant sound of a joyous lute coming in from who knew where, or to the sight of Yin and Yang dancing along to the jaunty tune. No, there was too much to do these days – always too much. He did however notice a bowl of fresh apples on the table that hadn't been there in the morning, and made sure to snag one as he made his way around the corner, down the long hallway past the locked doors of the sleeping quarters (which blocked the rooms from sight but did little to conceal the snoring), and into the study. A note awaited him at his desk.

    Dear L.,

    I have conveyed the tome safely to Marali as per Miss Falvo's instructions. Now, to find the "purple fraud-fighter" of whom she spoke. I have taken up a temporary residence with our contact, and shall await the proper moment to act.

    Yours sincerely,

  • Day 143 of the Waking Moon, Year 450

    "'WWW sheep shearing week!'" The boy read aloud from the pamphlet. "It says... 'Bring your pet, we'll take your wool for free. Give your friend a new look. Only with Waltham's World of Wool!' And oh, looky here... 'Due to the murders of dozens of sheep, the entrance now requires a ticket.'"

    "Hmph!" said the man, as they strolled into the city's polished gates. "So much for free shearing week. I wonder if this has something to do with that Kwoo fellow."

    "But wait—" the boy stopped. "I thought he was banned?"

    "Something like that, yes. I'm sure it's just another crazy imposter trying to get their fifteen minutes of fame. Come, let's keep going!"

    "Okie doke."

    "Oh, goodness, that reminds me!" the man said. "You'll like this: today, while I was sitting down in the park, enjoying my lunch, I overheard some madman talking about how black magicians are conspiring with the merchants' guild to summon Dethras and unfairly manipulate prices."

    "...huh. Neat! Who's that again?"

    "The seventh disciple, who turned to shadow. You probably won't be hearing much about him when the pilgrimage comes to town. But don't you worry, son... it's just some more crazy talk. You'll get used to it!"

  • Day 1 of the Growing Moon, Year 450

    Dear Bronte,

    The traitor has been taken care of. The True Commander sends his thanks to you and all the Citrinitas Aegis.

    I will send a full briefing as soon as I can do so safely.

    Warm regards,

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