Ahoy there, Miss D'Arcangeli-Malicieux Si'Talvace!

Well, butter me up and call me a biscuit; you've got the old Skeptical Fisherman of Jaru yappin' again. So, let's dive right into the kelp forest of conspiracy, shall we?

Now, 'bout them Xorans and their peculiar ailment. I've seen things in my time, things that'd turn your scales. I reckon them sickly Xorans got themselves cursed by a moonstruck mermaid or perhaps they offended a particularly petulant pufferfish. Whatever the case, they're as hexed as a two-headed trout!

And why, ye ask, do the clean Xorans stay so sparkly? Well, I've got a theory on that, too! Perhaps they've been blessed by the ghost of a giggling gulper eel, or maybe they've been whisperin' sweet nothings to the right sea snails. Either way, it's clear as the waters 'round Jaru that we oughta be segregatin' the jinxed from the jolly!

We need a great big net, not for catchin' fish, mind ye, but for sortin' out the accursed Xorans from their luckier kin. Think of it: a grand ol' Xoran sorting ceremony with all the pomp and circumstance of a high tide festival! We'll have the clean ones on one side, singin' sea shanties and shuckin' oysters, while the cursed ones can have their own little patch, maybe with some mood music and a good ol' barnacle scrubbin'.

As for them burdock roots, well, I say they're as suspect as a seagull in a sailor's cap! What if they're not just spreadin' like wildfire but whisperin' secrets to the soil, eh? Secrets of the deep, dark, dastardly kind! Mark my words, there's more to them roots than meets the eye, and it ain't all sunshine and rainbows.

So, Miss Annase, while I commend your spirit and your savings, let's not be too hasty pourin' gold into the gills of a problem when the solution might just be a good ol' fashioned fisherman's intuition and a hefty dose of sea salt!

Keep yer tackle tight and yer theories tighter,

- The Fisherman (Aye, still not mad, just marinated in mystery!)

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Ero, in the year 935 AF.