Alma,
Sorry I haven't been writing every day. It's been wild out here. You have permission to use my favorite chair since this will be a long one, but only just this once.
The list of folks grows every day. I think the mists offload outlanders here in Vallaki, and it seems like most of them stay here:
Met a Darkonese woman all in grey leathers named "Kat". She's a hiker, woodsman type, and you can just feel it by seeing her. Walked all around mount Ghakis with her while she showed me the lay of the land. I wish I knew how to draw, to give you a better idea, but she's like a piece of the rocks that chipped out and strolled off, and she's great company, too. You'd love her.
Short one named Tess sets up shop by the Svalich most days, and it's like someone tried to bring the whole Riverside Market out with only ten feet of turf to put it on. I don't think I'll ever have the pounds "wolf fang" (Barovian marigolds) for most of the weird stuff, but I'm always giddy just to see what she's got now.
Foppish Richemuloise gentleman named Alphonse crops up all over the place, out here. He dresses exactly the way you'd expect, but all dyed black, and the feather's white. I want to ask him more about himself some time, but I've got this nightmare that if I interrupt his womanizing he'll look at me and just keep carrying on like a wheel rolling off its axle. He's nice enough, though, and it took me a bit to catch on to his sense of humor but it's actually pretty great.
Miss Jusztina's like a little Gundar nymph but I guess you'd clock me for t
Miss Alix Mademoiselle Martineau and sir Leomont are two more folk I wish I could bring home for draw. Imagine a Dementlieuse duchess out for a stroll kitted up like a soldier next to a great huge Barovian folktale hero all dressed in steel and fur. Then imagine they're nice to have a drink with, and they're real into Ezra. I don't think drawing would help, actually. Took a gypsy wagon to Dementlieu with Mademoiselle Martineau told me the other day I should pick a surname so I can fit into the Dement politicking better, but I gave her the runaround.
Miss Ruby's a tiny mote of sunlight out here. Short one dressed all in yellow, fancies a matching parasol umbrella. She has this crazy red hair that looks like it weighs more than the rest of her combined. Says she's from "Sigil," and the more I hear about it the more I think she's actually just taking the piss a real wily storyteller. Accent's definitely from somewhere weird, but not as weird as where she says she grew up.
Met a Falkovnian caliban, that was a shock. Calls itself himself "Durst," and is about how you'd expect, but it's still bizarre to see him around. He didn't try to bite me, so I count him in the "good" book.
Karis is like a Blackchapel alleycat, and somehow her accent's even worse. She's good people, though, and helped me out when I was down she's similar enough to you that I think you'd hate her.
I've also met a lot of Ezrites other than Leomont and Mademoiselle Martineau. I know we used to joke about those sorts, but I've found not a one to be anything less than decent. Got a copy of each of their books, too. I promise I'm not going green on you, but I thought they were just beautiful. Crazy and backwards maybe, but the story's pretty. If that hawker by the river is still around, you should read them for yourself.
I want you to forget whatever I wrote last time about the Morninglord worshipers. After talking to more of them for longer, I don't respect many people more than I do each of those orange-robed saints. Without them, I don't know what would be left of this place.
I'm running out of parchment so you're probably running out of patience by now. Every time I set the quill down I think of a dozen more things I want to tell you about. I'll write you again soon, and you've got to get out of my chair now because your permission's expired.
Love you,
Wyatt