'That all took longer than I hoped it would. Good job I took a good picnic with me, nobody offered me as much as a crumb until I got in to see Edmund.
Now you probably don't know Edmund but I've known him for, gosh, most of his life actually. I was friendly with his mother. She was a basket weaver, very skilled and I went to her stall every time I needed a new pannier or a wrap for a potion bottle that was more top class than the usual ones. We got friendly, both enjoyed a bit of a gossip and swapped tales of who was courting whom and whose wife didn't know about it. So I got to know her and her family. She was very proud of her son who was apprenticed to the Storyteller's Guild. He was a very bright boy and she was right to be proud. He was a quiet lad but always a keen observer of everything around him. If you got him chatting he could spin a yarn from the smallest thing. He once told a story about a goose that was chased by a three legged dog that he saw in the Citadel Square, had all the stall holders in stitches. We knew he'd go far.
And he has. He's one of the city's best storytellers, a real genius at dream stories and interpretations. Just the sort of person who would know what was going on at the higher levels of the city. He's a childhood friend of the current Guardian so who knows what they chat about over beer.
It took a long time to get to see Edmund, I had to call in several favours and then send a message reminding him of my friendship with his mother. But once I was with him he was warm and friendly, we spent a few hours chatting and reliving some interesting times with his mother at the market.
What he told me was chilling and told in confidence so I must think long and hard about how much I can share. Grab a beer or gin if that's your thing and I'll let you know what I think's happening in Lunecaster.'
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