The Wellwater [NEWSLETTER]

[Erudiche]

[A newsletter, hastily printed, and distributed all across the city, details the opinions and political commentary of its author, B'aarat Water-Bearer Domhnall Guivarch.]

THE WELLWATER

Truth's Gold 'gainst Liar's Pale Silver

Tabbah, 7787

An Initial Account and Introduction

I will open this first issue of the Wellwater with a hearty greeting: hello! I thank you for turning your eyes upon our publication, the product of hard work and struggle. I might implore you, fair readers, to write to my letterbox so that we may learn what it is that the city wants from its mouthpiece, and so that we might make your voices heard.

I have not been in this city long, but it would take a fool and churl to have not become familiar with its history, the blood of its martyrs. Some ten years ago did the brave forces of the Cinquefoil Rose and the Sultan's 4th brave the fields of battle against the usurper Ibithal. Whose heart could but tremble at the tale, who could not weep for the fallen, who could not feel gratitude for the martyrs whose blood watered the desert sand, or else perished beneath the miracle of the Well? These heroes died for causes greater than themselves, and they died wreathed in the greatest honor, dignity, and sublime service available to any living being. I shall commemorate their sacrifices and noble works today, for they died for all of us, just as the Mother weeps for all of us.

Yet what has become of the Well that they had died for? What has become of great experiment which the Sultan has allowed? What has become of the miracle of water? I say: nothing but absurdity, but madness, but a foul mockery of those who walked before. Today's Well is the abode of the Shane Gallowses, the Monkey-Mad Alexanders, and the accumulated iniquities and dregs of the age. What was to be an outpost of life and healing has become an enclave of corruption and selfishness amid a sea of miserable hovels and starving refugees. The Stele of Law is perverted, used for worldly profit amid the sectarian conflicts of so-called clerics who seek to break the Wheel in the name of their own Spoke. The desert dries, the people thirst, and what answers have they from our city's ruling coterie? Nothing! Instead he must pay his wealth away in outrageous sums in all forms: taxes, licenses, the robbery of a Voice, so that he might enjoy his social, commercial, and civic rights. I ask you: what good is this experiment, these offices, these Legates, if they should fail to provide for the people? If they should fail to protect public order? Are we to simply ignore the attempt upon Legate Sol Auk's life, the defilement of the altar of Warad, of the terrible saga of the traitor Legate, the murder of Ordrem Klard? Are we to ignore the horrors beyond comprehension of Qa'im, which even now slather ravenously for the blood of our citizens? No! These things should fill any sensible person with righteous fury enough to rival Urazzir! That the Sultan and His Most Sublime Garden must be so disgraced by these failures, His dignity affronted, arouses the passions and offends the soul!

I know that you, in your hearts and in your souls, desire something better than this! I say that it cannot be granted to you, that the Sultan in His benevolence has given us a great task: we must make for ourselves a society worth the blood of the martyrs. That we must repel vigorously iniquity, immorality, and absurdity. That we must, as one, redeem this bleeding city, cast aside sectionalism, rise above petty politics, wage holy war against the Pra'rajite filth, annihilate every desire for vengeance within our hearts, secure public order, nurse and distribute the Mother's waters, and build a paradise here within the Great Ash Waste. I know that this is possible, and together we shall take the first steps in our campaign against ignorance and darkness. Together, we shall carry the torch of open speech, of Izdu's wisdom, B'aara's kindness, Kula's vitality, Urazzir's consternation, Warad's wiles, Gellema's shrewdness, Agaslakku's honor, and the Twindari's sobriety. Let us, together, honor the three pillars of righteous life: the Sultan, His People, and the Gods.

Murder and Terrorism Are Now Legal

Ordrem Klard, loyal servant of the people, devoted realist, fervent Asterabadian, friend, and organizer of the White League, is dead. His murderer, who should have been drowned thrice over for his crime, yet lives by the grace of the Legate Sol Auk. The killer was reported to have cleaved Klard in twain with an ax, then eagerly awaited his arrest. Regardless of political or sectional interests, even if one should be so loathsome and callous so as to celebrate Klard's foul butchery at the hands of one Hrothgar Childkiller, the sentence levied in this case was not merely that which freed a murderer, but in his place sentenced to die all law and order in the city, the dignity of the brave Janissaries of the 4th, and the faith of the people in their government.

The trial was a sordid spectacle which made a mockery of due process and the rule of law. Sitting impassive before the court was Sol Auk. The case was rushed to court, the Magistrate displaced so that the Legate might preside over the case personally. A confused tale of conspiracy was devised by the killer, his amoral attorney, and the loathsome worm and inveterate perjurer whose name shall forever echo in the annals of infamy: Alys Jalmyr, one which slandered the keepers of the law and which was accepted without complaint by Legate Sol Auk, who then articulated his desire to see the honorable Lieutenant Colmes of the Janissaries drowned in the Well in the killer's place. Citizens! I ask that should the streets run red with wild abandon, you should recall the moment which made such a bleak spectacle legal.

The League and its Hetman

I did not want to condemn my fellow in the White League. I truly did not. In fact, when I first heard the various sendings of Ms. Sayburgh, I was excited to have such spirited discourse and genuine enthusiasm for the cause of toil and liberty. Did I have questions, concerns, about the vehement and violent cadence of these proclamations? Yes, as any sensible person ought! Yet when I investigated further, all portents turned to a fell and bleak and endless darkness, and I now shudder at the thought of the White League's illegitimate Hetman, of whom I shall paint a portrait in words.

The first is the issue of her appointment and its fundamental illegality. The Leagues are not the products of the State, their authority does not stem from the Legate. Sol Auk acted, quite simply, ultra vires in this appointment, unless you believe that the Legate should be able to appoint an absolute leader to every association in the Well. In such a case, I do hope that the Well's adventuring parties, bingo halls, and dung salesmen should not mind their own personal wardens, courtesy of the state. Such a weighty decree on such feeble foundations should hold similar meaning to the following, my own: I, Tribune of the People, hereby proclaim Mirit the Liar as the Gold League's new Gold-Fondler, and decree that all members of the League ought to submit themselves to her assuredly vast wisdom and offer up their ill-gotten dinars to her discretion. If we are to acknowledge the authority of this Hetman, then I expect to see the honorable Legate bowing before the rightly-appointed Gold-Fondler before sundown. That is not to ignore the simple ethical and political error, as well. The White League's leadership was not offered freely, but only to the Voiced. It was not left to the membership, but to the Legate. There is nothing here which resembles a legal basis for this arbitrary and absurd decision, nor so much as a single care towards any kind of appearance or ethical consideration. I reject entirely every aspect of this decision, and I, along with the rest of the White League, will refuse to observe the authority of the Legate's Hetman, who shall be free to fritter away her invisible empire into irrelevance.

Secondly, we must address the qualifications and temperament of the Hetman herself. Who is Alexandria Sayburgh? It seems that no one, in fact, knows. One might expect a prudent and rational decision, in the appointment of an organization's leader, would be to employ those most invested and involved with the organization's function to lead. Not so! Instead, qualification might be found with the unhinged, apocalyptic, violent rants of a slow-footed opportunist alien to her movement. This veritable titan of popular politics has surveyed the League, seen it crawling and infested with maggots and corruption, and has promised a new Golden Age. So, what is her first order of business? Why, free getups, of course! Now the League of White shall have its members prance about in shining armor, always so clean and unmarred by the toil and manual labour these dilettantes claim to champion. And how should these soldiers of destiny fight for the rights of those who toil? Standing about in their clubhouses, arms crossed, sipping their coffees and cheering for the death of Ordrem Klard, threatening the life of previous White League candidate Estellise Azimi, and professing ignorance at the basic details of Asterabadian philosophy. Truly, I can feel the coming of the new age. The redemption of the League is most definitely at hand, crowned heads and great wealth tremble in fear of this motley troupe of paid clowns and hired thugs.

The present infestation of, to borrow Ms. Sayburg's own language, maggots within the White League is certainly concerning for any who care for civil, legitimate, and reasonable politics in our city. From the most iconoclastic firebrand to the staunchest Purple to the most mercantile Gold to all those who go hither and thither beneath the feet of the giants, a violent agenda being imposed upon one of the Leagues by a Legate who has seen fit to govern by ransom, followed swiftly by the murder of the League's organizer by a Glazier and the Legate's subsequent pardon of this agent, should give pause to all. I am loathe to engage in speculations in this newsletter, but these portent dark forces operating in our politics, and of the most hideous and heinous conspiracy against the very soul of the Well, of the Sultan's experiment, of the continued prosperity of its people.

Portents and Auspices

Love:
In the scorching heat of Tabbah, passions run high, and love blooms with intensity. However, be cautious of impulsive actions driven by this fiery energy. Embrace the warmth of affection, but also communicate openly and honestly to avoid misunderstandings. Nurture relationships with care, for love can burn brightly or fade quickly in this heated season.

Violence:
The raging sun during Tabbah hints at a potential rise in conflicts and aggression. Stay vigilant and avoid confrontations whenever possible. Channel the fiery energy into positive outlets, such as engaging in physical activities or practicing self-defense. Seek harmony and peace amidst the tumultuous atmosphere.

Discovery:
Beneath the wanton sun, Tabbah also brings opportunities for profound self-discovery and exploration. Embrace the transformative energy and venture into uncharted territories. Uncover hidden truths about yourself and the world around you. Engage in introspection and seek knowledge with an open mind. Let the flames of curiosity guide your path.

Profit:
The fiery energy of Tabbah can fuel financial gains and entrepreneurial endeavors. Embrace the burning desire for success and seize opportunities that come your way. However, exercise caution in financial transactions and avoid reckless investments. Stay focused, make informed decisions, and balance your ambition with calculated risks.

Betrayal:
Amidst the laughter of Pra'raj, trust may be tested during this tumultuous month. Be cautious of deceit and betrayal in personal and professional relationships. Trust your instincts and be discerning with whom you share your secrets. Maintain healthy boundaries and evaluate the loyalty of those around you. Guard your heart and beware of false allies.

Clarion Calls

The Clarion Calls segment of our newsletter is to be the place where the letters of our readers shall be published with comment. We have not, at present, received anything to be published. To promote such discourse, I ask the people of the Well to send us questions, complaints, feedback as to what they might want of our paper, their own musings. You need not be a titan of letters, not the world's cleverest sort. Whatever grievances that the people, especially the Voiceless, might have, deserve to be heard, and I shall level my very best effort to utilize my bully pulpit to promote the righteous agenda of the masses of the Well.

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Ambassadorial Candidates Wanted!

Let it be known that the honorable Chancellor Isabella de Veend is seeking candidates fill the office of Ambassador to the following city-states: Banafsi, Spring's Gift, Kha'esh, Frostport, and Qadira. The candidates shall be assessed according to the criteria of competency, motivation, merit, and, above all, character. They shall be examined by Chancellor de Veend and vetted by the Legion to ensure suitable moral fibre and preclude those of criminal backgrounds. Anyone from any League shall be welcomed for assessment, although it shall be noted that preference is given to members of the Purple. Members of the Accord need not apply, so as to avoid the temptation to put one's section above the welfare of the whole. No existing experience as a diplomat is required, training will be provided to those candidates who are deemed suitable, so long as they display a basic knowledge of their assigned city-state and a fundamental comprehension of their duties as they relate to diplomatic policy. Those who are most appealing shall be forwarded to the state for approval. It is noted that this should prove a most excellent way for any aspiring politico to gain a sense of the world outside the Well and the value of our city to the broader world. Such a thing would be invaluable experience to any aspiring Legates.

Help Wanted at the Wellwater -- Bounty on Stories!

Let it be known that this publication is imploring the aid of the public. Bring interesting or notable stories or investigative reports to the editor, Domhnall Guivarch, either by mouth or by mail, and if your story is worth publishing you will be compensated with 30 dinar, 100 dinar if it is of extraordinary value and credibility.

Good Living

An essential, and difficult, task in modern society is the art and science of good living. To live well is not only to live righteously, but also to live in good health. One must pursue proper nourishment, free the body of maladies and miasmas, and attend to the balance of humors. The eminent physician Sireen el-Abbas, in her milestone text: the Splendid Study of Cuisine put forth a dish as part of her signature 'milk diet', which is said to tame the passions, soothe tophaceous gouts, and improve the vital essences. This dish is titled simply Milk Soup, and I have provided the recipe below according to her specifications.

Boil a quart of milk with cinnamon and moist sugar. Put sippets (dried bread slices, toasted or fried in fat) in the dish, pour the milk over it, and set it over a fire to simmer until the bread is soft. Take the yolks of two eggs, beat them up, and mix it with a little of the milk. Throw it in, mix it all together, and send it up to the table.

Today's parting thought is:

"Let a hundred flowers bloom; let a hundred schools of thought contend." -- Asterabadi

[Erudiche]

THE WELLWATER

Truth's Gold 'gainst Liar's Pale Silver

Ilul, 7787

The Election

The election is over, thankfully, and we now have two Legates: one of Purple and the other of Gold. Many are dissatisfied, many are frustrated, many more feel as though they were not presented with viable alternatives to the venerable Qari Alriyh. Indeed, one must ask if they are wrong. What did the Purple see fit to offer the city? A cartographer, one who had already excused herself from the running before. If a candidate lacks the energy to pursue power, and the enacting of the will of their League, with all their faculties, this bodes ill about their conviction and quality for the office. A leader must be willing to sacrifice. A leader must be willing to suffer. A leader must be willing to, if circumstances demand, render their final, bloody service to the Well, offer their lives, as so many have. In war, we can have no equivocators, no fence-sitters, nothing which is not total and severe. Lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I spit you out.

And the White. Echemmon Telemanus. What more is there to say? I do not hate the man, but he was not the Well's leader. Intemperate defenses of the Bashmu-kar, which did fly in the face of the will of the people, musn't be accepted. An inability to take counsel from his comrades, and an inconstant control of his public persona were the dooms of the White. As much as this election was the Gold Legate's trump, it was also the failure of the Purple and the White. New leadership is required in this city. New blood for the Leagues. A new social contract, and a new sacred cause to uplift our leaders. Let us be done with the lukewarm and the cold. Let us be done with traitors and tyrants. Let the reign of money and avarice at last come to an end. Demand something different. Demand something better. And if it should be denied to you, make it happen by your hand. Know that in doing so, I shall be at your side.

Let Us Banish Bigotry From Our Doorstep

Moteism. Now, more than never, do the gnomes of the city require our support. With the demon-conjurer Yomar having been slain amid a tide of racial animosity, the racial peace of the city is in peril. Do not recreate the mistakes of the past, do not allow the old prejudices which once governed many of the humans, during the reign of the King, to re-emerge. This is a world for everyone in it, and a place where a brighter future must be midwived. To you self-described Moteists, I lay down the gauntlet. You are the dying dregs of a foul and miserable age, you are the vagaries of Waqt Almashaqa, words written upon the scrolls of history in blood and piss, and the enemies of the Mother. You gluttons of her tears, who feel that they are yours alone, who should seek to deny such universal love, freely given, are the true servants of discord, foul and fetid. There is no such thing as reasonable or rational Moteism, and any who should bear the name shall forever crumble in shame and misery before the Mother's judgement.

Let us eschew the name Moteism. Let us call it for what it is: hatred, evil, wickedness, and rascalism. Nay, worse, let us call it for what it truly is: the stain of the Bashmu-kar, the Orentid, and the Pra'raji, the catspaw of Conspiracy and the Djinni Courts. You do not follow your dear Saint Mote, who has rejected your doctrine of hatred and discrimination, and has given herself to the service of the gnome and the wretched condition they face in this city which deplores and resents them. You are nothing. You are scum. Change your hearts or die!

A Martyr of Weeping Waters

Averroes Tashfhin is dead. Averroes Tashfhin may never die. Both are true, for the Knight Errant walks in the way of the Martyr, who holds aloft the great weapons of the Mother's faith amid the starry field, and who shall return on a chariot of her blood and sing songs of great glory at the end of time. She, who walked faithfully in the Path of the Wheel. She, who brought many to the fold. She, who commanded the twin forces of power celestial and mundane. She, who refused to betray her Faith, erring though it was, was betrayed in turn. She, who in her exile, did walk the lonely path of pilgrimage, and offered praise and succor. She, who gave her life in the salvation of those who spurned her, in rescuing the Voiced's names from the clutches of the Djinn, Yomar. If this city is to sing of its savior, if the city is to ask who it is that shall lead it from ruin, then let it be of Averroes, the Earthly Martyr.

Sent into the desert with nothing but a stick, did she slay the monster who held the city in the palm of his hands, for the sake of those who betrayed her. A girl, thin and angled with starvation, did take afield against a towering mound of darkness and air stuffed within the flesh of a dead man. She slew the incarnation of evil and gave to the Well the right to live. And she was betrayed once more, struck low by the beast Alvaro Vilagrassa. Yet a simple man cannot slay She Who Walks With the Mother, the Destroyer of Evil. Faith will outlast any pitiful flesh and blood. Through temptations, snarls, and an endless score of cruelties and tests did the child come from the smoldering peaks of ruin, alone. Alone did she fight, alone did she err, alone did she find redemption and offer the city a faith which it did not deserve. And in death she alone shall offer blessing in our Holy War against the Sibilant. Let us elevate her glorious name as Martyr of the Weeping Waters, as patron of the War, as the protector of the desperate and the Dakhwar. To the madness of daring, let us chant a song.

Portents and Auspices

Love:
The celestial alignment in Illul indicates a time of blossoming love and deep emotional connections. Existing relationships will experience heightened passion and harmony. Singles may encounter a potential partner who ignites their heart with a gentle flame. Embrace the loving energies and let your heart guide you towards meaningful connections.

Violence:
Caution is advised during this month, as celestial forces indicate a potential for conflict and aggression. Tensions may arise in personal or professional relationships, leading to verbal or emotional clashes. Practice patience, diplomacy, and seek peaceful resolutions. Remember, true strength lies in restraint and understanding.

Discovery:
Illul brings a profound opportunity for self-discovery and exploration. Unveil hidden talents, embrace new experiences, and embark on journeys of personal growth. Engage in intellectual pursuits, creative endeavors, or spiritual practices that ignite your curiosity. This month offers transformative insights and a chance to uncover your true potential.

Profit:
The harvest season in Illul favors prosperity and abundance. Financial opportunities may arise, leading to potential gains and increased stability. However, prudent decision-making and careful planning are essential to maximize the potential benefits. Seek advice from trusted mentors or financial experts to make wise investments and secure long-term financial growth.

Betrayal:
The celestial alignment warns of potential betrayal or deceit in relationships or business dealings. Exercise discernment and trust your intuition. Be cautious when confiding in others and safeguard your vulnerabilities. Choose your allies wisely and maintain a balanced perspective. Prioritize open communication and ensure your boundaries are clear to avoid potential betrayals.

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Help Wanted at the Wellwater – Bounty on Stories!

Let it be known that this publication is imploring the aid of the public. Bring interesting or notable stories or investigative reports to the editor, Domhnall Guivarch, either by mouth or by mail, and if your story is worth publishing you will be compensated with 30 dinar, 100 dinar if it is of extraordinary value and credibility.

Help Wanted at the Wellwater – Artist!

Let it be known that this publication is imploring the aid of the public. We wish to employ a cartoonist to draw the relevant materials or events of the day.

Help Wanted at the Wellwater – Contributors!

Let it be known that this publication is imploring the aid of the public. We wish to accept reader contributions in the form of letters to our paper, which we might publish so long as its contents are legal.

Good Living

This month we shall consider the recipes of Baz'eel's great culinary mind and Poet-Laureate of the Academy, Shihaab el-Soltani. We will first describe his recipe for a nourishing hummus. This shall require a cup and a half of cooked chickpeas, some ounces of walnuts, tahini, ras al hanut, dried coriander, caraway, fresh mint, pistachios, a preserved lemon and its brine, red wine vinegar, water, olive oil, and salt. Remove the skins from the chickpeas and proceed to toast the walnuts before transferring the walnuts to a mortar and crush them up fine. Lightly toast the coriander and caraway. Mix in the paste of chickpeas alongside the tahini, ras al-hanut, caraway, coriander, mint, wine vinegar, lemon, and lemon brine, lubricating with olive oil as needed. As needed, add water, more olive oil, and salt until you reach the desired consistency and taste, ideally just enough so that it might be sopped up by bread or roti. Sprinkle toasted pistachios atop and enjoy.

Consider also el-Soltani's recipe for Subiya: a sweetened digestive beverage which, if garnished with the correct spices, might serve to inflame the sensual passions, or else temper them and promote a beneficent phlegmatic temperament. What will be needed are some five slices of bread, five cups of warm water, parsley, crushed cardamom, cinnamon, and, optionally: citron leaves, washed; a sprig of tarragon, and a sprig of mint. Soak the bread and water together for thirty minutes before mashing with fingers. Strain the resulting product through a fine sieve. Pour the resulting liquid into a lidded container alongside the parsley, cardamom, cinnamon stick, and the optional ingredients. Seal for a day or two to allow for fermentation, before straining again. Serve with ice and sweeten with honey to taste.

Today's parting thought is:

"Even the clearest water, if deep enough, can drown." - Shihaab el-Soltani

[Erudiche]

THE WELLWATER

Truth's Gold 'gainst Liar's Pale Silver

Qdim, 7787

Mourning the Dead in the Days of Rage

Oh, did the brave children of the Well go to Nusrum and beyond to fight the Holy War, and did they do battle with the Sibilant threat, and did they return thinned and ragged and weeping for the lost. They marched through miles of waste land, where ash rained, and returned to a home which cares for them not, ruled as it is my mammon and avarice. But there are those who weep for the dearly departed, among them interminable friends of the people: Lynneth Llyrwarch, the Mote, Echemmon Telemanus, Kragg Stonefury, among others, beloved by all. These brave warriors spat in the face of darkness and cursed the works of Pra'raj, and offered up the ultimate sacrifice to the Well, their blood watering the sands and the frail flower of liberty within. The sky broke apart in the fighting, so fierce that it was, and a force of lesser men might have crumpled. But half of our number chose death above dishonor, and through their vicious fighting carried their friends, the refugees, the Well, and the world to salvation. There is no tribute or song which can compare to the duty which these people served, and no end to the gratitude they are owed.

Yet those who survive are today dressed in rags. They are crippled. Traumatized. Beautiful ruins, as a splendid palace laid low by lightning and earthquake. Their home is a wreck. And their sacrifices are not repaid, the very notion of doing so mocked and shamed by one of their own Legates, who did not lift a finger to the city's protection. Is it not the custom of the Sultanate that one should seek to return and repay the gifts one receives? Is there no greater gift than one's own life? Not in Ephia's Well, where the only god is greed and the only law is money. Do not accept for one moment the excuses of your potentates, veteran warriors. If the Legates wished you prepared for battle, they could have done so. If they had wished you rewarded, they could have done so. If they wished you a Voice in return for your merit, it could be yours. The honorable Izdur obfuscates upon his seat in the Palace a fact which ought to be made clear: the Law exists to service virtue. If the Law fails in this, it can be remade. Else we would have no need of Legates, vested with the power to change laws. Do not accept this laziness and open contempt, I beg of you, but take the path of true rigor, of self-respect. As you spat at Pra'raj, spit also in the face of mockery and derision from those who saw you and your friends cut down and butchered like dogs.

And looking to the Legate of Purple. Marcellus Saenus, who commissioned our war. In the early days, I had trusted him. Until the very last moment I offered prayers for his success, that he would exhibit the greatest qualities of the League of Purple: nobility, strength, and power. I offered freely my services as a financial advisor to the state, writing to both Legates of necessary proposals. I was ignored, as Saenus was consumed by fantasies of orc alliances and sabotaged by the indolence and apathy of Qari Alriyh. Unwilling or unable to resist the obstinance of the Gold League, Marcellus stood by as ruin mounted its great assault. While he went with our soldiers in the fight, it was his failure which cut them down, not the blade, bomb, and gas of the Sibilant! I contend, Marcellus Saenus and Qari Alriyh, for I know you are reading this: not only was every death of our number on the field that day a murder, but a murder by your hand! Now you mean to sit and wait out the remainder of your terms, whose ends are not even defined, after enacting a massacre on the Well's subjects! New elections must be called, new blood must be introduced to the state, and I dare you to again offer such mealy-mouthed excuses to the public whose blood stains your hands.

And to those who dare shame me for inciting division, who balk at the fury of a moderate, I curse you! Yes, I am a moderate. Yes, it is I who have at all times called for concord, cooperation, brotherhood, and friendship, and a great evolution to prosperity and peace. So know that I do not speak these grave accusations lightly. Know that my rage, my hatred, for these crimes is borne from the deepest depths of my heart. People I knew died. They died afraid, drowning in ash and murk. People more worthy, more noble, more just and virtuous than I might ever hope to be in a thousand lifetimes died for the failures and rank stupidity of our state! People whose hands might soothe the injured and dying, whose lips might have offered praises to the Wheel, whose works might have elevated the entire state of the Well, dead! And the black pall for mourning has given way to a new color. White. A color of purity, of a flame that burns hotter than even the fury of the demon Pra'raj. Justice will be done, O Children of the Well, this I swear to you. All that is iniquitous shall burn. All that is wrong shall be made right. To this noble aim, I offer you everything. Even my life.

The Well Awakens, the Wicked Tremble Before It

Bandits run amok in the Gutters, proclaiming themselves kings and the last holdouts of the depraved rule of the Orentid. They rob travelers and then waltz into the Krak, into the Plaza, holding their heads like the sacred host. The waters are tainted with the Ash, the Shade sputters and struggles against the raging of the storm. Soon the walls shall be circled with camps of the dead and dying, whose moans and cries shall deny the city slumber. The Rose is decimated, the Janissaries are bleeding, foreign boots mark our soil. All forces turn inward amid this crisis, attempting to right their houses. And in so doing abandon the people, old and new alike, to scrounge in the dust and dirt and face the predations of the robbers and thieves. I say to these lost children of the Mother: if these powerful should not help you, then I will! The League of White is the only friend of the Well entire, and so has commissioned a Corps of Volunteers to rebuild and regenerate our society, to care for the little folk so carelessly cast aside by their appointed guardians.

Join the Volunteers if you are interested in the survival of this lone oasis. If you are interested in more than playing games with apathetic elites for a chance at power. If you are interested in more than going nameless and dying in the dust. If you are interested in a life without a boot in your face or a hand in your pocket. The League of Gold will offer you false promises of riches and fortune and ascent by merit, but the moment your use to that wretched coterie of thieves is done they will dispose of you as their own set rob the state and public blind, all while singing of the glories of charity and generosity. The League of Purple will offer you strength and stability, but the well-to-do exiles of Baz'eel shall sneer upon you as they appoint fools to empty the treasury and offer handouts to Kha'esh and the foul orc slime of the wasteland. I call on all people, of all colors, of all stripes and rank and classes, to take up the White. The Purple and Gold have failed you, time and time again. They will continue to fail you, time and time again.

The Volunteers offer you a chance to complete the tasks which the state has failed to do. If they will not protect you, it is your duty to protect yourselves. Bring the bandit and Orentid filth to heel! Drag the brookers screaming before the courts! Rebuild your beloved home! Tend to your brothers and sisters in charity! Take up the banner of life, of peace, of public rejuvenation! For the Well, long slumbering, has finally begun to awaken, and when it rises fully from its great sleep the world shall not be the same again! Let us come together as one city beneath the Gyrfalcon and see our pale banner rise! For all of us!

Portents and Auspices

Love:
Amidst the remnants of war, hearts that once beat in unison may find themselves torn asunder. Love, once a beacon of hope, now stands amidst the ruins, testing the resilience of bonds that were forged in the crucible of war.

Violence:
Though the battlefields have faded from view, the specter of violence remains. Tensions run high, and scars of betrayal and mistrust may spark new conflicts. The wounds of war, both physical and emotional, continue to shape the destinies of all who have tasted its bitter fruits.

Discovery:
In the wake of destruction, the thirst for understanding intensifies. Seekers of knowledge yearn to comprehend the true motives behind the treachery, delving deep into the annals of history to decipher the hidden truths that led to the betrayal.

Profit:
The war's aftermath brings both economic prosperity and opportunistic vultures. Those who capitalize on the chaos may thrive, while others may fall prey to the machinations of those seeking to profit from the scars of war.

Betrayal:
The month of Qdim is rife with the lingering shadows of betrayal. Trust has become a rare commodity, and suspicions cloud the once clear skies of camaraderie. Be wary, for those who once stood as allies may now harbor hidden agendas.

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Help Wanted at the Wellwater!

Let it be known that this publication is imploring the aid of the public. Bring interesting or notable stories or investigative reports to the editor, Domhnall Guivarch, either by mouth or by mail, and if your story is worth publishing you will be compensated with 30 dinar, 100 dinar if it is of extraordinary value and credibility. We also seek artists and cartoonists, and contributors of writings and opinion pieces!

Help Wanted at the Honorable Corps of Volunteers!

Let it be known that the Honorable Corps of Volunteers of the League of White are seeking new recruits to serve the Well. Tasks include rebuilding the Plaza, forming armed bands to drive bandits out of the Gutters and Gate of Roses, campaigning for emergency measures to provide for veterans and incoming refugees, establishing a producer's cooperative for common enrichment, and fighting for a public voice and White Legate. Contact Domhnall Guivarch for more. All kinds are asked forth: clerics, potion-makers, writers, fighters, workmen.

Good Living

This month I had originally intended to set upon a flight of fancy pertaining to desserts and the art of baking. Yet in light of the present catastrophe, I have decided to focus on food which might help feed the coming desperate people. Khichri is a humble and nourishing dish of rice and pulses, and is suitable for the feeding of many people at relatively little expense. One will need long-grain rice and pulses, perhaps lentils in this example, in a proportion of 2:1. Other supplies include oil, cashews, asafoetida, black pepper, dry chilis, cumin seeds, ginger, curry leaves, cilantro, and clarified butter.

One must cook the rice and lentils in salted water until soft and mushy. Then, one should heat the oil and cumin seeds and when browned add the asafoetida, pepper, chilis, and cashews. Stir until the cashews are roasted, then add the ginger and curry leaves. Add this mixture to the mash and serve topped with the clarified butter. One might also like to add various vegetables to this mixture, including sweet potato, carrots, beans, cauliflower, or peas. To do so, simply add the vegetables to the oil alongside the ginger and curry leaves, and let cook until tender. Ingredients may be modified to fit circumstances and the availability of materials to the diner.

Today's parting thought is:

"I sat upon the shore
Fishing, with the arid plain behind me
Shall I at least set my lands in order?"
Freydoun Sayyad