Once again it is time to begin a new journal and place the old volume on the shelf. Starting a new journal gives me a good feeling of change and thoughts of new beginnings. Though, I am sure that if I were to look back, I would find much the same sentiment reflected in the beginning of each previous journal. Looking back can be useful at times, but I do not think this is one. A strange disease is among us, and it is surely dampening any enthusiasm I might feel for this new journal. Five members of our community here in Armbard’s Pass are ill, and neither Magda, our local cleric of Chauntea, nor I, as the town’s makeshift apothecary, can make any progress in treating them. Magda’s parents are both ill, and she spreads herself too thin trying to take care of them and the town both. Padir running off has not helped matters at all, and even Magda does not have the energy to keep herself going like this much longer. I liked Padir well enough, but it has surely been long enough by now to get to Waterdeep and back. Fox’s father is also one of those taken with disease. While I appreciate the fact that his pranks have slightly let up, I cannot fully enjoy the respite knowing the cause. Fortunately neither Dask’s family nor mine have been afflicted with the illness. Yet, that is. If we cannot find a way to cure those who are ill, I am sure it is only a matter of time before we all succumb.