The Wind Has Died

The Expedition is off to a difficult start. The weather has been against us, the winds almost non-existent a week out from port. We drift, and exhaust more of our provisions. Isabella has been ill, sometimes for days at a time, her cheeks flushed, and feverish. She cries out in her sleep, speaking of red-clothed priests, of evil visages… and then calls out for the Heretic, asking strange questions on what he has promised… Azoth, the fountain of youth… the location of this mysterious “Vitae Aeternum” where all of these secrets lie.