Letter in a bottle

The Speaker,
The Woven Braid,
South Docks, Nordon.

I’ve asked this captain to deliver this message to you, and he’s thankfully obliged. I am “Det Marshall”, who you so helpfully put up for some nights just under two years ago (Possibly just over by now, mail delivery by ship isn’t exactly speedy). I’d like to thank you for your hospitality. I would offer to return it in kind, should you visit our new world, but I fear that my current nomadic lifestyle makes that difficult. You can contact me though the Sacuza trading house – via Stuart Marshall’s Marshall Enterprises – if you wish to. If you could find your way to passing the enclosed to people heading in the right direction, or keep it until he visits you again, I’d appreciate it.

—-

Speaker McLintock of the Woven Braid.
c/o Which ever path guides this to you.

I speak to you from the past.

I have no idea how long this will take to get to you, so by the time you do this will probably already have happened. I’m hoping you’re back from Kamacuria by now. Well, you’ll have to be, otherwise this letter will be sitting on a shelf in Speaker Dervish’s study forever, a saddening thought.

You were, of course, right. The New World didn’t solve all my problems, whilst I am no longer a third rate blacksmith in a family of blacksmiths, I am now a third rate trader in a family of those. Cousin Stuart’s new enterprise is really taking off. To counterbalance this, I’ve worked hard, and have become a third rate pistol maker (Never fired the things in anger, thankfully) and a third rate practice of one of these new magical arts I’m sure you’ve heard about: Talismancy. Bored of being third rate of practical things, I also became a third rate policition, and managed to misjudge a group of people, mostly by tarring them with the brush loaded for their loudest voice. From this, I learn that a cloth is made of many threads, and the colour of the coat is not necessarily reflective of any one thread within it. Also, that I most strongly empathise with our shared Lady in her form as the fool. Unfortunately, as instrumental in this breakage, it falls to me to attempt to fix the damage – or at least fill their void in part.

I’m being imprecise and vague, but this is because the pattern of my story is still being shaped, and I don’t know how much I need to shield from the light just yet. I am hoping that this new path I follow brings me to my calling, and I do not take on another third rate role.

I may have consorted with demons. You will, of course, have heard of the blight of the Fallen upon the new world, and perhaps even the old world’s attempts to banish them; but instead I talk of the gods that appear only to exist in this new world. I call them “gods”, and perhaps I blaspheme, but those who worship them see no doubt that they are as our Weaver is. Many of our “old world” religions seem to view them as false gods, or unknown aspects of the gods we follow (The ‘Jaguar’ being associated with our own Lady), but I am unsure that can be the case. Brighter lights than my own have watched and researched these new deities, and their published results (I enclose with this letter a copy of G. Tang’s pamphlet on the subject, whose objective analysis – though buried beneath layers of flowered language the like of which would baffle the Millen court – should be interesting to you) and it appears that those who attempt to approach the subject clear of mind find the “new gods” to be as they style themselves, whereas those who enter with theological bias – of the ‘there can only be five true gods’ method – find in their own favour. You are aware of my distrust of the purity of large organisations – even churches – and so this may be my own bias fogging my view.

I have consorted with angels. Some of whom may be the demons mentioned above. It amazes me that in two trade fairs – quarterly politic-economic events, effectively – I have spoken to four Eidolons of three religions (Two from our own). A discussion with a representative of the “Jaguar” (New world god – I don’t believe I mentioned – of free will and (especially) doing what is the most fun at the time. I’m not entirely sure how that matches up with the blessing he gave one of this flock to make them explode like a barrel of dark powder when the were caught and executed for criminal acts.) has lead to a happy ending of a potential situation for a Rukh colony I have visited from time to time, and our own Eidolons helping another of our little trading group become more worthy in the eyes of our Lady. Some say the New World must be blessed that it has so many godly creatures in it, but with the Fallen-blight and some of the other things rumoured to be roaming the land (and oceans, for that matter) it would appear to be entirely in balance.

Now, however, I need to prepare, and search for some inspiration. There is to be a fair in three months, and I intend to… well, lets see what happens, shall we? I will write to you with the results when I know them.

I feel like I’m throwing this into the maelstrom in a bottle, that the chances of you ever receiving and reading this are impossible, yet I shout into this void so that someone may hear what I say. even if it’s only me.

The weaver guide this letter, this day, and your fate.

Your most humble student,

S. Detail Marshall.

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