It is the third firstday of the month, and I grow weary of traveling through this deserted and blasted land. At first I thought the tales of the fall of the province of Bonniffuss must be greatly exaggerated, but now, having walked the dead fields and seen evidence of the great drought first hand, I know better.

My father, though grain prices may be high in Susspin, I fear they are fair indeed. Here nothing grows in the once lush soil. Since the king’s army passed here half a decade ago, the land has lain fallow and should be rich with crops, but instead whisps of sage blow on the desolate wind and even in this cold month, there is no rain.

I found one of the Val’kyn’vi on my journey, and asked him about the weather. He looked at me with sad eyes, and told me to expect another year yet of the same before the rains returned. It is as if the land grieves for the pain of its people at the hand of their own king. His purge of the Allerians, at the urging of the new high counselor cost many of the locals their lives for no crime at all. His grief over the death of his sister may bring much grief to us all.

I hear rumors that the king believes the Merchants guild to be in collusion with the Allerians, and also behind the devestation of the Mage’s War. These rumors do not come from tradiotional sources, and for once I think Jakoric is keeping its nose clean. If our family is to survive the coming years we must plan well and carefully, for I fear the kingdom trapped in a downward spiral. Perhaps it is time for our duke to consider forging his own path.

I ramble, and am sorry. I would not speak so boldly did I not trust this messenger with my life.

Best wishes to you and mother. Tell sister Catherine that I wish her success in her marriage.