A messenger traveling through the County of Bindings brings the below letter to Countess Gwenore Sanglune.

The same courier which delivered the letter from Baron Siapiusa leaves the castle gates of Belleholm accompanied by three royal guards on silver colored coursers.

To the esteemed Count Syl Bloodraven, High Apothecary of the R.B.S.A.P.

I can scarcely believe that mere weeks have passed since our last meeting! Your insights (along with being the only one of the Spina Obscura with the ability to decipher my handwriting) have been keenly missed at the lab. A rather fidgety gentlemann came to deliver an assortment of dehydrated fungi with varieties even I cannot identify – I can only assume the parcel was for you. I understand that your travels have kept you busy, but I absolutely must make you aware of some minutiae for the upcoming celebratory banquet – ciphered, of course, in the event that this letter is intercepted by some hooligan (though the Spina Obscura would claim my handwriting is enough of a cipher)! You're so clever, I'm sure you'll figure it out.

ScSiKCaHHeMgB KSPArB ArCr KScHeNeBLiCa BKLiHSBBe. LiPBeB Mg.

On another note, I've managed to procure a cask of mead from the Bindings' special reserve. Truly, Syl, you must have some of this liquid gold. Who would have known that bee vomit could taste so divine? Hope all is well. Travel safely, and return with haste! We have plenty of work to do.

Isolde Darkholm, R.B.S.A.P.

P.S. - VB KOPScMgBe OHTiB H HeHSiClScBCa.

A old knight walked the secure paths of the County of Bindings bringing the below letter to Countess Gwenore Sanglune.

A royal courier arrives in the night to deliver the wax sealed scroll directly to the Baron Ryoaze Siapiusa.

Two Black Knights entered inside the corridors of Darkholde. It was the birth of autumn and the men were covered in proud wolves fur over steel armor. A shivering boy stepped between them, handing a rolled parchment into the Guildmaster of the Spina Obscura's hands.

Dearest Serverus, Lord-Commander of the Black Knights,

While I appreciate the words of kindness in your letter, perhaps next time you should mention the emergency before all your reminiscing?

Forgive the stray ink strokes in my response; I am writing from a bumpy carriage en route to Ironholde in response to what is either an urgent medical situation or a ploy to receive your dear sister at your barony. The latter of which I would not be unwelcome to, for it has been some time since our last meeting in spring, and the chill winds of autumn are already upon us. It brings me relief to hear that your knee has since healed; it is the silent scourge of infection that heralds the end of most soldiers, rather than the sword alone. Next time, do not hesitate to seek treatment for an injury before you push your body to its very limits!

Without knowing the tribe of your Sir Joseph nor the species of snake that bit him, I have brought several antidotes that should work for most physiologies. I only hope that I am not too late, and that our first meeting in months is not dampened by tragedy.

Isolde Darkholm, R.B.S.A.P.