unexpected and particularly ruthless enemy recently. Shortly after the most recent battle to

defend our city from the attack of Chaos, even as we recovered, this enemy took its first

victims.

Our enemy was invisible, nigh impossible to track, remarkably fast, and indiscriminate in its

killing. Our enemy, Valieti, was the plague.

There are likely few citizens in Cascadia at this time who were not aware of Valieti before it

died out. Taking its first Unitarian victims only a week after the battle at the walls, the plague

lasted perhaps a month and a half, yet it managed to build a death toll of a thousand: people

and bondcreatures alike. Lists of identifiable known victims have been compiled and are

available at the Healers’ Hall. There may be many dead unnamed, but the best that could be

done was done.

Symptoms of Valieti included mostly skin lesions, the vomiting of blood, and severe

respiratory illness. Its progression was sometimes not obvious at all, often rapid, and

frequently fatal. Treatment began immediately with quarantines and whatever aide our city’s

good healers could supply. It should be noted that not even healers were safe from the plague,

and their Hall has lost a count of its own in their good work to save so many.

We have been assured now that the plague is over. No cases have been reported for some

time, according to a record-keeper at the Healers’ Hall.

One healer – who seemed rather cranky in general, mind you – remarked, “It wouldn't have

been so bad if people had the common sense to listen to healers' instructions.”

While his wording was blunt and perhaps…crude, it should be taken to heart that the healers’

are not crazy blunderers. They want to keep you, the populace, happy and healthy. Mind their

words and perhaps things like Valieti will not happen again.

It seems few were untouched by this tragic epidemic. Hardly a soul exists in Cascadia that does

not know of someone personally who was ill or passed from Valieti. We extend our

condolences and well wishes to all of you, grieving or recovering.

While at the Healers’ Hall to inquire on the status of the plague’s activity in the city, this

reporter did overhear an interesting statement which will now be passed on to you.

A young man, his wife lost to the plague and daughter recovering, was asked how he and his

child fared. “We can only be grateful,” he said, though his tone was sad. “Lots of people lost

those they loved or were lost to this, and we’re among them. But when you think about how

much more we could lose these days…maybe it’s not that bad, right? There’s still so much to

hope for. A little bug isn’t going to get Cascadia down. Not yet, not now, and I hope never.”

So there it is, readers. Chin up, take care, and hope. Our hope is with you also.

uncontroversial enough to avoid complaints from the readership, which means I get to keep

my job! Irotana willing, this column will remain a regular feature in the Blue Moon, providing

guidance for your everyday lives and warm meals for my neglected tummy. As noted last time,

I'm rather out of the loop regarding current events around Shadow Star, so I hope to act as an

impartial judge for any concerns you might have. Without further delay, let's move to our

letters:

"I've found myself married. My wife is demanding I come 'home'. I don't know where that

Evad, Cascadia "

Marital commitment does have a way of sneaking up on you, does it not? I've heard such

sentiments as this from newlyweds more often than not within the first months of marriage. So

it is not so unusual that you feel overwhelmed by the magnitude of your bond; after all, the

everyday tasks that you each had undertaken individually for survival are now shared between

the two of you, and while that may seem to be a simple concept in theory it is much more

disorienting in reality. Feelings of confusion to the extent that one knows not where they

belong are also normal, so try not to over-worry about uncertainty of what serves as 'home'

for you just yet. Despite the all-too-common fear building in your gut that a sense of normalcy

will never again be known, the sharing of a roof with this new player in your personal game of

life will feel less and less strange the more time you spend together. When you can empty out

and clean her chamber pot without contemplating where the…ah, "waste" originated from,

you'll have it made.

At the same time, it should be remembered that marriage is not without its benefits. Food and

the cooking thereof comes most readily to mind, though certainly there are other advantages

as well, of which I assume need not be mentioned by name. Make use of these where you can,

and you should find yourself more comfortable within the married lifestyle before you know

it. Then again, there exists the all-too famous notion of a reduction in particular benefits as

time goes on, until they have been whittled down to almost nothing…my only advice in this

regard is to not think about it overmuch, and instead enjoy what can be enjoyed, while it is

there to experience. How this is to be accomplished I leave up to you.

"Dear Turin - How do you get someone famous, like an author, to go on a date with you if

Signed, Scarlet Lily, Cascadia"

This letter puzzled me at first, as it appeared Scarlet Lily had neglected to note what she is an

amateur in. The source of the confusion laid in the mentioning of authorship as a hypothetical

example. Such a device creates the impression that any famous profession could be used to

link her to the object of her affection; however, this clearly is not what she intended, as such an

inquiry would be nearly impossible to give meaningful advice about. I point this mistake out to

you, Scarlet, only to help you grow as an amateur author. I hope you are not offended by it.

At any rate, Ms. Lily, it's wise to recall that a person's day-to-day activities are not taken up

entirely by his or her profession. Authors are no exception to this rule, and I would argue that

it applies even moreso to them; the sheer magnitude of penmanship required to create a

manuscript is enough to make your hand cramp in sympathy just by imagining it. This column,

by comparison, is a breeze. It is my assumption that a successful author would have such

severe hand-related pain that a sour mood could be involved at any time, merely by reminding

them of their chosen profession. Certainly not the tact you'd want to take if you wish to appear

friendly.

(My former mentor Hortis just passed through, and after reading the above paragraph he

noted writing isn't the only thing that stresses an author's hands. I'm not certain what he meant

by this, but he did elaborate that only one hand is affected by the activity. Was he referring to

posture? Dipping a pen into ink, as his vertical movements with his own palm seemed to

indicate? He's since left the room, so I'm afraid it shall remain a mystery for now.)

In addition, crafting a novel has a tendency to become a strenuous mental exercise. Literary

ideas tend to flow in highly irregular patterns, yet new books must still be made if bacon is to

be brought in. Time away from work, therefore, is likely not a period where an author would

appreciate being dragged into their writing mindset. My conclusion is that your beginning

efforts as an author should go unmentioned; therefore, they are irrelevant. Simply approach

the object of your affection as you would anyone else, and what comes from it will be what it

is.

As I do not know the renowned scribe whose company you seek, there is no further advice I

can give on how to woo him. However, if you are interested in someone to discuss your

writing with, say of the strong, silent type, I may prove to be of assistance…perhaps over

dinner? (Oh dear, was that too much? Maybe I should have directed this segment towards the

personals, instead…)

"Dear Turin- How do you convince a girl that following her home without telling her is a

-Notmeagain, Cascadia"

Erm, well! This is certainly an unusual activity to seek advice towards. I must say that you'll

have difficulty convincing anyone of your noble intent, Notmea-hold on a moment.

Notmeagain? Do you mean to suggest we've met before? Good gracious, I…I thought I had

heard footsteps behind me the other week, but it had just seemed to be my imagination at the

time…are you aware of my gender, sir? Following her home? But that, that would suggest…

oh gods, a sickening sensation unlike I've ever experienced before is setting in…all right! That

settles it! After the next letter, I shall see to scheduling a haircut. And possibly seeking out a

roommate. Preferably one with knives.

"Dear Turin-- I'm a father of several children, but none of them ever acknowledge me.

Signed, Blue in Homestead"

It occurs to me that this is the first entirely wholesome letter in issue's column, though I'm

partially to blame for that, I can see. A new leaf shall be turned here; one of family-friendly

content for all! I so swear it. Perhaps I will even stick to it; time shall tell of that.

Blue, while your goal is indeed noble, it is unfortunately not one which you can expect to bring

about artificially. Do not blame yourself for this; though your children remain children in your

eyes, they likely do not think of themselves as such in their everyday lives. Moving out tends to

have such an effect. It is a sad and selfish fact of life, but not one which need be permanent, as

long as it is approached in a practical manner.

Under normal circumstances, nothing short of personal tragedy will serve to remind a child

that their parents will not remain forever. Similar reminders of mortality, however, can be

invoked through a stroll down memory lane. Try to visit your offspring with the goal of

reminiscing times past, perhaps through a favorite childhood game or family recipe. Most

importantly, make it clear that the visit is not made with your interests in mind, but with theirs;

in this way, the realization that you have emotional needs of your own, particularly through

contact with your beloved sons and daughters, may dawn upon each of them on their own. We

are dense creatures, the young; quick to cast aside the wisdom of our elders, but willing to

cling to our own realizations as the pearls of wisdom they so clearly are. Exploit this, and the

fatherly connection you seek will be yours.

Alternatively, family reunions are a time-tested technique used to recreate paternal bonds,

though not one which I have a great deal of experience in. Ultimately, what path you choose

remains up to you. Just do try to avoid the role of the fatherly stalker…and with that said, I

believe there's a cold bath with my name on it.