14th of Pharast

My Dearest Serendipity,

I must first apologize for the lateness of this letter. It’s been some time since we’ve been to a city with a proper post office–the adventurer’s life.

Even as I miss you, it feels good to be out adventuring again. Petty quests and deliveries might not seem as grand as delving into other planes or battling world-feared wizards, but there’s a certain satisfaction in it–and, I might add, a degree of comfort in knowing that it’s unlikely we’ll be cursed or tricked or changed.

And speaking of changes–Sandra’s begun to work on her potty training! Three weeks ago, she was washing her diapers out behind camp while a few travelling wood elves passed by, and I think that’s what broke her–though, she claims it’s simply because she’s getting tired of all the washing. (I must say, even with a spell doing all the work, I’d get tired of it as well.) Regardless, she’s begun taking the opportunity to work on it daily. When we have the time in the morning, while I’m preparing my spells, she’ll go off and sit on a toilet if we’re at a tavern, or whatever latrine hole we’ve dug at camp, and work on it–it may not be the best technique, but it’s the one she’s got access to, since we’re otherwise on the road.

It hasn’t helped much, so far. During our traveling, she still doesn’t have much control over when she’ll need to go, if she has warning at all. I’m unsure if this slow improvement is a lingering effects of how the Wizard cursed her, or if it’s a side effect of being mature and trying to learn a juvenile skill. Children learn many things very, very quickly while their brains are growing, but we’ve all got adult brains, with the stunted rate of study that comes with maturity.

It’s something to research, at any rate.

And speaking of research, I’ve been learning some new spells–and tweaking a few, too. As much as he’s a bastard, the Wizard had some clever ideas on energy control, and I’ve been working them into my existing magic. It’s like a cheat! My pacifier curse inspired me to look into magic along those lines, and I’ve found that it’s far easier to silence someone by sealing their lips with a bit of rubber than to silence them with magic alone–it makes me think of all kinds of ideas that work along those lines.

What could accomplish when applying this thinking to spells of the highest order? I’ve only just begun to dig into this, but I think there’s some potential.

You might find this example funny–I’ve found that it’s easy to create diversion-style illusions by working in a bit of the magic. There’s various sounds and sensations that draw the attention of beasts and men alike more strongly than simple curiosity. Fear has commonly been used as a way to frighten guards and distract them from a sneaking spy, but that has its downsides–a frightened guard is a twitchy guard.

An aroused guard, however? Not only does that distract their attention rather strongly, it lowers inhibitions rather than raising them. Lacing in a bit of…shall I say, ‘amorous energy’ into an enchantment can offer some real benefits.

I explained this to a bard we were working with a week or so ago, and she seemed quite interested. Her typical style seemed quite–shall I say, aggressive? With music enchanted with lightning of some sort, shocking notes of power. After a bit of dabbling, we managed to work paraphilic magic into one of her more sinister spells, wherein she can sow thoughts in the minds of her targets.

It worked–perhaps a bit too well! The rest of us managed to sneak past the dragon completely undetected, and nobody was harmed. I will say, the bard seemed rather winded by the whole experience, and her clothes needed to be replaced. I almost apologized, but she only asked if I could enhance any other magic in her repertoire. She’s bringing a few spells back to her college to share with her peers–she says she plans to call the new genre she’s developed “Baby Metal”, though I don’t know if it’ll see any traction.

It’s good to be questing again. We’re far stronger than we were when last this was common, and the rewards from our guild work is stupendous–we’re flush with cash. There’s still never enough to buy everything I could possibly want. (Though I’m pretty sure some of the listed prices in the guild catalog must have an extra zero snuck onto the end for prestige.)

I must also say–and, please, accept my apologies if this is a bit rash, but…I’ve missed you, deeply. Perhaps it’s all the paraphilic magic I’ve been doing, but my thoughts drift to daily, and when I’ve got any semblance of privacy, my thoughts of you grow even stronger. I often find myself wishing I had that relic you showed me, the one that could buzz like a hornets nest–with a layer of this latex and so much fabric, it’s difficult for mere friction to get me anywhere. Would it be possible to acquire one of those from one of your Calistrian craftsmen? I’d be very happy to own one, and I’d think of you whenever I’m using it.

I hope this letter finds you well, and that your work in the temple continues to excel. Next time I am in your city, your performance will be all I desire to see.

I have the honor to be at your service,

Hadrian Mistweaver

…

10th of Sarenith

My Lovely, Sexy Serendipity,

Can I vent for a moment? I’d just like to get some frustrations out on paper and have them be heard. If you’d prefer, you don’t even have to read this–skip this first page completely and move on to where I shower you with compliments.

Sandra’s potty training has become a chore. I am more than happy for her to try her hand at self improvement, but it’s become increasingly annoying for us as a party to deal with.

It’s the waiting.

Every morning, waiting for her to sit on a potty and practice. Every evening, too, we have to wait around before supper–or we could just eat without her, but that feels like an incredibly rude thing to do.

She doesn’t even seem like she’s making progress! Every time we have to go more than a couple hours without a stop, her diaper still ends up soaked. It’s almost worse, because she ends up flustered and embarrassed, sulking off to go change as though she hasn’t been without potty training for months, as though the rest of the party wasn’t in a similar predicament. I don’t think she’s had a single dry night since getting out of her cursed diaper, and she only makes it to the potty through luck during the day.

And it’s affecting our work.

Three weeks ago–no, I should back up.

A month ago, we were called to a job the next town over. It should be six days of travel. It took us eight, because we kept having to stop for thirty minutes at a stretch so she can use her wondrous potty–it shrinks down to fit in your pocket when you’re not sitting on it–to ‘practice’.

Then, three weeks ago, when we finally arrived at the town, we got our task–staking out a cave where suspected vampire activity was occurring.

Naturally, this means staying up overnight. We were taking shifts, two at a time, on opposite sides of the cave for maximum vulnerability. And, it turns out–Sandra thought she could use her shift to try and get a little ‘training’ in. She had her pants around her ankles when activity around the cave mouth began, and I was on the other side of the shift–I had to run in, by myself, to catch the creatures who were sneaking out.

Turns out, they were just drow teens who’d been sneaking off to the cave for a little nighttime romance. But you’d best believe–when they saw Sandra waddling into the fray, holding her pants up with one hand because she hadn’t had time to re-dress herself, they made sure the village knew afterwards.

She promised it wouldn’t interfere with our work again, but then she started taking more breaks when we weren’t working, and it’s eating heavily into our social time.

I don’t want to be mean to her, but if she makes us wait before starting our travels one more time–before immediately using her diapers the minute we’re out on the trail anyways–I might have to cast silence upon myself so I can scream.

On the other side of the spectrum of ‘things that make me want to gag’, Quinn and Tarja have given up all dignity and gone full-on mushy lovers. Tarja spends most of her time on horseback these days–beats walking, I suppose–and when she’s not mounting her horse…

Let’s just say that I wish I could cast, ‘Zone of Silence’.

On a brighter note, we’ve achieved a new rank with the guild! They gave us a waiver showing ‘Noteworthy competence’ and everything. That means they’re giving us tougher quests–which, importantly, tend to pay a whole lot better. I’ve already got my shopping list put together towards new reagents, and I’ve attached a sum of gold to this parcel to pay for the wondrous item you suggested–the one that can be remotely controlled. I’d like you to keep one of the two control rings, if that’s alright.

And, on that note, I very much enjoyed the portrait you included. Give my sincerest compliments to the artist, and, I must say, it’s impressive you managed to hold that pose for long enough to get a detailed rendering. Your leg strength and balance is truly astounding, and you amaze me every time I hear from you.

I have the honor to be in your service,

Hadrian Mistweaver

…

29th of Arodus

My Serendipity, my Wonderful, my Love,

Your most recent letter, I tore open and licked the seal for any lingering taste of your lips–I miss you. I long to hear your voice, to speak with you, to be in your company again. The little communication our rings allow is a slight balm to my absent heartache, but twenty five words a day is simply not enough to express my affection for you.

Still–it’s been a comfort. I’ve asked that we find quests closer to your temple, but we’ve traveled all the way to the coast, and it will be some time before we work our way back to you. And the secondary use of the item–I’ve found myself going to the portrait you sent some months back almost daily, when I’m using it.

My magic is getting pretty scary–in a good way. The Wizard’s an abusive monster, but the tricks he worked out for amping up power is pretty impressive. “Paraphilic Magic” can be devilishly efficient when it needs to be.

You know how to stop a fire breathing dragon from roasting your party?

Simple–plop a pacifier between its lips and watch it get really mad when it can’t spit out its new binkie.

Speaking of ‘getting real mad’, Sandra’s given up on potty training for the time being. Allegedly, she’s still working at it when we stop at taverns, but I haven’t seen it, and out on quests she’s been diapering up.

I can’t say I mind. Not that it took long for her to prestidigitate her clothes after every leak or accident, but…it wasn’t working well, and I think we all knew it. She’s asked me about making a diaper that has the self-cleaning function of her old one, but without the curse attached that would undo her potty training efforts. I said I’d look into it, but–between you and me–it doesn’t really seem like there’s much in the way of potty training for it to undo.

I’m not one to speculate or point any fingers, but Sandra’s work hasn’t gotten her very far. Six months is a long time for potty training to take, or so I’ve heard. From what we know, she should be able to re-learn that skill, it just seems like her heart’s not in it.

But, I’m in no place to judge. I haven’t made much progress dealing with my own curses, either. (Not that I’d undo them if I could, given the Wizard’s threats–I don’t want him swooping down on us again just as soon as we get everything else cured and dispelled.)

Missing you deeply, I wish to be in your embrace again.

I have the honor to be your obedient servant,

Hadrian Mistweaver

…

10th of Neth

My Dearest, Serendipity,

I will see you before the dawn of a new moon.

I cannot wait.

We’d have been to you sooner, but I was pulled aside by a frankly ridiculous mixup. The Mage’s Guild had me in for questioning, after they heard reports of my spells. It seems, because I’ve been dabbling in paraphilic magic, they thought I must be working with the Wizard, as some sort of agent or lieutenant.

Fortunately, Wizards are reasonable sorts who never lose their tempers and don’t mind having their mistakes pointed out and corrected.

…I trust you’ve been around enough wizards to know that I’m being rather sarcastic.

I had to travel to their high college to get it cleared up, pointing out that I’m one of the most obvious curse victims the Wizard has inflicted his magic on, and more to the point that I had a good record of combating him. I’m not sure if I should be pleased or embarrassed that they began to accept my arguments after I unknowingly used my diaper rather thoroughly on the grand floor, pleading my case before the high counsel. It, at least, conveyed my status as victim more clearly than any words could, though perhaps I’d have spent a few more nights under house arrest if it meant avoiding that predicament.

Nonetheless, they were persuaded, and I was even invited to lecture on the merits and uses of Paraphilic magic. Its potency impressed them all, though until it’s been given further research, they decided not to do any further teaching on the subject.

The others are doing well. Sandra’s given up her potty training completely and donned her cursed diaper again–it’s an inconvenience, in one sense, but she says the self-cleaning aspect is simply too useful to care much about the downsides.

The party found small quests to occupy themselves while I dealt with my situation, and we’re looking rather good for gold–so I suggested we take a few weeks off and go back to the city to relax. After some persuading, (and a little begging,) I convinced them.

We’re coming to you.

I am coming, my love. We’ll see each other soon.

I am yours,

Hadrian Mistweaver