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[Apothar Cosine Mevura]

Thousands of shadow djinn are currently tormenting citizens above and below. Most of them are invisible to your senses, hidden beyond even your sharpest efforts. But there are many that intentionally appear, sometimes as mirrors, sometimes as gnomes, sometimes as other things; their capacity to mimic shapes is beyond any easy description in writing.

You may have recently noticed that strange things have been happening in the Creep.

We are not sure what, exactly, you may be experiencing. But our instruments have detected surges of corruption following after Azaghal into your neighborhood. This is not a coincidence. This will get exponentially worse as time goes on. It will not get better until all sources of corruption in the region have been removed.

There are three primary vectors active in the region of Ephia's Well right now, and the world will not begin to heal until they are removed. In case you are somehow unaware, they are as follows:

Azaghal.

Vico.

That fucking pipe.

Apothar Cosine Mevura

[Apothar Mevura]

Imizael Volkov. Dispelled by a priest. Clawed by a ghoul. Battered by a blunt instrument. Executed by a spear. Powerful curse cast upon her not long before her death, but the curse had faded or was otherwise left incomplete by the time of her autopsy.

Other details, best left unwritten.

You have my condolences about the disfavor of the Wyld. I might recommend that you make a plea to the Wroth to adopt you as his own; his morbid sense of justice might suit your priorities better.

It's taken some doing, but we've gradually learned more about the red potion that Lucia was ruining herself with. Our first encounter with it, before we knew what it was, came about from unknown actors distributing it among the hapless refugees invited in by Ricario's folly. A few scores of them had taken shelter in a vacant property. Most of them were dead by the time the Janissaries opened the doors; the few that yet lived, dying, kept muttering again and again about a "drink" we found half-empty in their hands. Hand-dug tunnels had broken open the tiled floors and burrowed straight down, crude passages choked wall-to-wall with mindless undead monsters that used to be men, women, and children.

We have since had ample time to study specimens of the "Dretch Drink." As you've no doubt inferred already, it builds up cumulatively in the imbiber's system like the Sibylline Drink does, but the corruption is much more blatant and far more profane. Every dose rots away more of your humanity until nothing remains but a broken slave, bound forever after to whatever necromancer is behind this.

We're not sure if we can reverse the process. We are willing to try if Lucia has some regrets about her decaying organs, but it would come at no small risk to the patient.

We don't know where it's coming from. None of the guttersnipes found in possession of the Dretch Drink have been able to speak coherently on the matter. The Sibylline Priory, the House of Baharu, and the Dread Rock are obvious suspects, each unambiguously capable of brewing this blight in forceful quantity, but there's no solid evidence pointing in any of these directions. For all we truly know, it could be the madness of an obscure renegade.

Whatever your poor life choices, I doubt that you approve of how this filth has preyed upon the downtrodden.

Apothar Mevura

[Herald on the Hill,]

Herald on the Hill,

I am asking only to recover an unfulfilled balance. I am not verbally abusing you. I am not threatening you. I am not shouting at you. I am not trying to make you into something you are not.

You have written what amounts to a Cinquefoil slam piece against my institution. I think that you are crisply aware of this. I did not ask you to take it down. I did not ask you to turn it against the Sisters. I asked that you clarify how we had not yet given a comment. When that mild-mannered request was rebuffed, I sought to cancel my advertising investment. It has been less than one day after you were hired to foster positive publicity, and it already seems unlikely that you have anything good to say about us.

Please allow me to quietly collect my funds and disassociate from the Herald.

Don't give me this hogwash about "putting the plan on hold." If you've already spent the money, or otherwise can't afford to lose it, we can discuss that like adults.

Apothar Cosine Mevura

[Herald on the Hill,]

Herald on the Hill,

I do not recall any attempt to reach me for comment. I cannot speak for any interactions with my colleague or with our apprentices, but in my recollection, you were ushered out at the request of the Priory, not by the Astronomers, who had a badly wounded Nadiri to attend to (among other developing situations) for the remainder of the evening.

If there is nothing to be done about your publication, then there is no redress for my concerns.

Anticipating that this is going to be a recurring frustration, I would like to refund my remaining 1480dr balance with the Herald.

Apothar Cosine Mevura

[Herald on the Hill,]

Herald on the Hill,

While I certainly do not object to reporting the statements of the Priory as given, I do not appreciate how you have characterized them. I am puzzled that you would open with "a confession by the Astronomers" and then follow up exclusively with quotes by Acolytes and Sisters.

However, despite the benevolence of the Sisterhood, a confession by the Astronomers leaves a dark shadow in its wake.

No such "confession" features in the handbill. It is immediately followed by a comment from Imizael Volkov.

I would ask that the situation be appositely described as allegation and accounts presented by the Cinquefoil Rose, rather than some admission of fault or folly in the part of the Astronomers.

Apothar Cosine Mevura

Absolute legend.

[Subat 7th,]

Subat 7th,

I am told there is a reward for this.

REDACTED

Best regards,

Apothar Cosine Mevura

I believe that the setting would benefit from a soup kitchen run by the White League or by the Scribes, distributing a disgusting but nutritious worm stew for 1gp.

Hasheema's Hope, the League of White office, the Drifter's Stockade, the Tablet, or similar locations with a theme of poverty or catering to the Voiceless masses would be perfect places for this vendor.

[Apothar Cosine Mevura]

The Zenithars are still deliberating on the topic of an arcane prison.

Long-distance scrying is an mortally dangerous prospect and not to be suggested carelessly. After being tortured hideously while scrying on order of Legate Zaniah Almirah, I am deeply disinclined to attempt such a maneuver again; it would expose me to grisly retaliation by the sorcery of the lizardfolk.

There is no easy solution for tracking the melek through their labyrinthine tunnels.

Myself, Apothar Mae Stern, and Nadiri Zain al-Saiba are highly proficient engineers.

Apothar Cosine Mevura

[Subat 20th, 7787 IY,]

Subat 20th, 7787 IY,

The Ides of Subat have come and gone. Despite an abundance of omens and frightful dreams, I have not observed any terrible fate befalling Domhnall. Perhaps some invisible damnation now grips him. Perhaps there was a threat, but we thwarted it with our diligent friendship. Perhaps it was all superstitious nonsense, all along, made meaningful only by our fear.

During a closing ceremony at the edge of the Waters, he was compelled to say certain words. His reflection in the Waters spoke to him, or perhaps spoke through him; most believe this guidance was B'aara and we have no reason to challenge that interpretation, but you know how I am. I cannot help but wonder if something sinister might have been at play.

Tears gathered here
in our Well they rest
to honor dear
our great sacrifice

Ariel and Sol Auk have already fallen apart. They present conflicting narratives; Sol Auk asserts that Ariel ousted him from his own corporation, while Ariel claims that he quit in a tantrum.

Amelie Terrois has become a Sister; I hardly recognized her, and might not have believed it if I did not read her name on their roster. Acolyte Imizael is making moves to infiltrate the Purple League, deviating from her otherwise homogenous alignment of the Priory with the White League.

Hu Prak ran a democratic ballot to decide the state animal and symbol of Ephia's Well. Some demented Bashmu-kar revealed that, if we chose the Lion, it would bring about an apocalyptic event, and implored that we do so. Obviously, that didn't happen. Heron won instead, by a landslide (and by some magic of the Stele, there are now herons roosting all over the Citadel).

Zain, of course, wishes you good health and success in your ongoing quest.

Mae remains as scornful as ever.

The days continue to feel brittle and hollow without you here.

Your apprentice,

x = a / b

[Apothar Cosine Mevura]

Proceed to your satisfaction.

Try to make sure the Torchbearers don't awaken any more ancient, calamitous evils. The desert is getting crowded.

Apothar Cosine Mevura

[Subat 12th, 7787 IY,]

Subat 12th, 7787 IY,

It was not until last month that I finally felt comfortable referring to you as "master." For so long, it felt wrong to describe you as my mentor. It was Oro Konthaz who taught me what I know, of the Djinn, of the Mission, of the Citadel. But when grandfatherly Gaius Abael admonished Mae for her disrespect of the teacher-student bond, it finally clicked for me. I understood that recognizing my apprenticeship under you would not somehow take away from my apprenticeship under Master Oro.

There are, and will be, many tutors in our life. All of them deserve our fullest respect.

And besides, you are the one who showed me the horrible truth of the Sisterhood, aren't you? That helped me see past their shallow facade, and showed me the sadistic games they play? I might have never known them for the villains that they are if you had not chosen to study them so closely, or if you had not brought me with you for that journey.

Anyway, Domhnall has appointed Aubrey as his prelate; although I think he's lost his mind, I'm sure you would be thrilled if you were here. It's not a gesture of reconciliation. They hate each other more than ever. If anything, he's hoping that placing her in his cabinet will discredit her efforts to present herself as an opposition ticket in the primary.

We've opened relations with a foreign city-state, Tlonsiyya. It was founded atop an astonishingly vast reserve of baublium and has since evolved into a thriving industrial town. Mae was assigned by the Legates as part of the delegation, against the will of Priory; the Sisters, with their pet Balladeers on call as backup singers, screamed and wailed and threw tantrums in demand of her exclusion, to no avail.

Andvari Lawcleaver is a Sergeant now. Sol Auk and Ariel Hysair seem to have formed a close alliance. Oscar Kreutz is leading experiments on "the Gutter Beast," with intriguing results. In the depths, we have yet to make new progress; Mae is as sluggardly, inflexible, and controlling as ever, when it comes to machine research. There is a deranged, cannibalistic flesh brooker at large, perhaps even a conspiracy of the cretins. Narwen Alendiel claims to have been "cured" of her alien powers, but I don't believe her at all. And a wave of new Acolytes have emerged, thus far immaculate in behavior, giving me little to read into.

Politics are currently dominated by the pro-Janissary agents pushing for our city to expand out of the Gate of Sand, and by the pro-Cinquefoil agents pushing for the city to expand out of the Gate of Roses. The Astronomers have thus far remained neutral on the matter, because we are a necessary component for both visions, and should profit regardless. We also have an invested interest in not choosing a side between the Banda Rossa and the Janissaries, especially after what Radislav pulled.

Your apprentice,

x = a / b

[Subat 8th, 7787 IY,]

Subat 8th, 7787 IY,

The Citadel has been quiet without you to keep me in trouble. Worse, it has been lonely. Even when I am surrounded by crowds or among familiar faces, I feel empty, uneasy, isolated. My heart has been aloof from the duties in front of me. I go through the motions. But I don't go with them. There is no feeling, no excitement. Even a long, soaring cruise into the gathering dusk has awakens nothing but a dreary impatience to return to bed.

I pressured Marcellus to purchase the doll that he promised you. I'll hold onto it until you return.

The Janissaries got me some of the Priory's brewing byproduct for you to study. And they'll be going back down in the depths with us soon, as we search for the analysis module.

Your apprentice,

x = a / b

[Mevura]

The list has been updated.

Please reference it carefully.

Mevura

Actual best.