Hurricane Isleias Darkens 884,000 Hearths; Cold Soup Advised

Friends, a hurricane came ashore near Fatehaven, Floridia, on Friday night, and the power outages left roughly 884,000 homes dark across Floridia, Alabaster and Gorgonia. Four people are dead. I lit a candle at the temple for each of them before I wrote a word of this.

The Storm-Seers' Conclave named the beast Tempest Isleias. It swelled to 120 miles an hour out over the water, then eased to 105 by the time it reached the beach, which the old herbals would call catching its breath. The Conclave says the same thing in a longer scroll. It still pushed about five feet of sea into the coastal streets and dropped four to eight inches of rain, with fifteen in the unluckiest spots.

Falling trees struck homes. A badly vented generator poisoned someone with fumes. Here the old herbals and the new studies agree: never burn charcoal or run a generator in a closed room or garage. The Clerics' Disease Council, which I last saw running short of clerics, has said as much after every storm for years. Put the generator outdoors, well away from the walls. Please. I am asking nicely.

Now the kitchen. With the power out, the Potion & Provisions Authority's scrolls give a plain rule: a closed cold-box keeps food safe for about four hours, a full freezer for about two days. Eat the milk before the meat and the freezer before the pantry. Anything that sat warm too long goes in the bin, however sad that makes you.

Margrave Ronan DeSaintly promises that ninety-five percent of the outages at Floridia Power & Lantern will be lit again by Monday night. Sixteen thousand lantern-lighters have come from twenty-nine provinces to make it so, with five thousand militia clearing the roads. I would send each of them a hot bowl. But some 170,000 hearths in Floridia were still dark on Sunday evening, and a promise of ninety-five percent is a poor comfort to the other five.

Meanwhile the storm shut in nearly three-quarters of the Gulf's daily lamp oil, and the Oil Lords are already clearing their throats about prices. Buy beeswax candles now. And if anyone offers you a cask of ice at ten times the going rate, report them to the Watch.

My friend Nyx tells me there is an app that tracks the storm in real time. The app needs power, Nyx. Go outside once the wind is done and help a neighbor drag a branch off the road.

Soup of the week: cold cucumber-and-buttermilk with dill and a pinch of salt. It needs no fire and goes down easy.

Rest well, friends. — Brother Wendell