This letter is to be delivered into the hands of Na’ila, daughter of Be’ata, in the city of Stone Table.
By the time this letter reaches you, I will have made my decision, but I must write to someone. I have been approached with an offer to join the Order of the Moss-Covered Sword, and I am torn. I met with the leader of this Order, and I think I trust her. One of my companions does not, and although I do not trust him, he makes me think. This swamp city seems the closest the world has to a free land. The people here bow to no king, are pressed to serve in no army, and breathe as free as any people I have seen in recent years. And yet, the Order is authority. The Merchants’ Guild here is so clearly corrupt, and the Order supports them, or seems to, or supports them more than I would like. And yet still again, the Order is a line of defense against the uncounted, unnameable evils of the swamp. They are good people. But they are people, and brothers do not rule over brothers. Is that not what we fought for? Is it wisdom to embrace an imperfect best hope, or treason?
I do not know, although I think I will take them up on their offer. This city is worth fighting for. If you are well when these troubles pass, I hope that you will join me here. A free city needs free people.
Take care until next time, and travel well.
Owain set the letter down with a heavy sigh. The day had been tense, and left him with too many unknowns. It would not do to dwell on them. He sent the letter on his way, and went to meet Abad for a drink and an apology.