(Letter written by Lucius shortly before Medorosa’s vendetta. Never sent, I saved it from the fire for my record keeping.)

Dear Mother,

You wouldn’t recognize me if you saw me. I’ve been training with a Skaldish swordmaster for so long that I’ve finally gotten some muscles on my bones. Yes, even my arm. That has all healed up. You wouldn’t even know if you looked at me now. I find the heat here dreadful though. We’ve arrived in a town called Puerto Faro. It’s in Giordana, on the coast of the Southern Sea. I get the impression this is the kind of city that good captains skip over, leap-frogging them to get between Aillesterra and Vassermark.

For a time, we were in the religious city, Tavina, while Master Amurabi finished teaching me the local language. I found that city much more pleasant, though now I realize it was because I could so regularly swim in the lake. Despite the locale, the water there is very cold. Master Amurabi says that there is a fissure down through the firmament. Vapors and other things seep in and give the temples their religiosity. Either way, it was very far from any war, and the people poor but happy.

Now here in Puerto Faro, they are poor and angry. You don’t even see children here. The merchant families take them in like serfs and shuttle them across the land to work as apprentices. If you saw the rogues that sired them, you’d know it was for the best. The only good people are the ones with businesses here, sucking the money from the lowlives, who in turn get their money by gambling or stealing.

The houses look of very poor construction. I thought we had entered some form of inhabited ruins when we first arrived, but that is simply because the desert sand stains everything the same color beige. The windows have to be tightly shuttered, or the insides end up a mess. The people with homes are very protective of their property in that way, and I see tapestries and mosaics through many windows. You’d never notice if you were just passing through. I suspect the Vassish garrison still hasn’t noticed.

I miss Jarnmark. Most of all when one of these giant insects bites me. They’re horrid. Tiny, flying demons. Master Amurabi says there’s nothing magical about them, but I can’t see how an insect could naturally grow to the size of a peach nut.

Soon, I will leave Puerto Faro, and have to march across the desert. No pools to swim in, not even good food. (The Giordanan food took some getting used to, but my palette has adapted to their spices.) Perhaps, as I find myself sucking dregs of water from bladders between the dunes, I will find myself longing for the buzz and the bite, at least of a sign that I won’t die of deprivation.

When this is all done, I will get to return to Vassermark after my journey, but I don’t think I will see Jarnmark but from the deck of a passing ship.

Your abandoned son,

[REDACTED]

(A letter nearly posted while we passed through the city of Glasslight on our way to Tavina. Stopped by the outrageous courier fees they expected. Prices had inflated because of pilgrims gone to see the Sun God relics. He asked me to post it to Jarnmark at my earliest convenience, since he knew he wouldn’t be able to. By the time it was convenient for me, the desire had left him.)

Dear Mother,

Master Amurabi taught me a great deal of things while we traveled the central kingdoms, and it seems I might have a bit of a name circling around. Please, don’t let it cause you any distress if you hear it. The rumors are quite exaggerated. Master Amurabi had me work as a bounty hunter to cover our expenses, and to teach me how to fight. I mean, Leomund taught me the actual forms and basics of fighting, but I mean to actually kill.

I used to think that bandits in the woods were all hardened criminals. Only some of them are. Turns out that the ones who survive long enough to get a bounty on them are, more often than not, the cowards that ran away. The sight of steel was enough to make plenty of them piss themselves and flee. I never thought finding them would be harder than actually killing them.

I guess now I understand why lords don’t bother their knights with the duty. It would be a waste of their time.

One thing that is true though, is that they’re all bastards. When I was first learning to fight, when I was as scared of them as they of me, I let one get away. He took a child hostage. If Leomund hadn’t been ready with an arrow, that child would have died because of my hesitation and his evil. I never let that happen again.

Once you get in a habit of it though, it’s not too hard to make a living at it. Especially near Drachenreach, where they pay for drake corpses. Those can be scary fights, but it’s not like I’m going to die. If anything really bad happened, Master Amurabi would have come to save me, so I was never scared. Not too scared anyways.

So, please don’t think too much of any reputation you hear. It’s just gossip spread by bards who want to swindle a few coins from drunks.

Your abandoned son,

[REDACTED]