7 Mirtul, 1369 DR

Dearest Moira,

My heart is a bit heavy this evening. Do not fear for my health; I am perfectly well and have taken no wounds at all. I am writing to you from a rude stockade constructed by the surviving members of the de’Arnise Guard. There are but few remaining, including the Captain, one Arat. They seem to have performed their duties honorably, but the suddenness of the attack overwhelmed them. Whatever these strange foes we face may be, their plan was cunning; they attacked not openly from outside, but employed some form of creatures as sappers, tunnelling underneath the walls. Thus their first appearance was made in the heart of the fortress. I must detail this technique in a future report to the Order.

I would that I could feel the power of the Unsleeping One in my heart now, the moral strength that lends every blow extra impact, but I must confess that my soul is too uneasy to find that comfort. I am allowing words that passed earlier in the day to weigh too heavily upon me. You are my constancy, sweetest Moira, and sometimes even my conscience. Even though you are not here to judge, I shall place the case before you; perhaps in doing so I shall find some ease.

Patricia and I had been speaking of her past, and she mentioned a former companion named Ajantis, a squire from the Waterdeep Chapter. She wished to know something more of the Order’s tenets, which I was glad to explain. Her attitude was completely respectful and attentive, yet when I ventured beyond a simple statement of the Order’s mission she answered me in curt style. I had not thought she would respond so to words that held nothing but a wish for greater righteousness. Perhaps she is not so honorable as I had begun to believe. But I must stay my pen a moment, someone comes.