What Happens in Waterdeep.

Cynthia watched the two young lovers asleep in each others arms. Admittedly, she had watched them for a good portion of the night and although her initial intentions weren't voyeuristic, that quickly shifted once she had attempted to reach out to Virgil and discovered what was transpiring. Cynthia needed to contact Virgil, it was important, but it could wait.

For what she was about to ask. It could wait.

The sly demigod impressed her influence upon him and his eyes snapped open.
"Morning, Handsome. Get some clothes on and let that poor girl recover." she mused as she lit a cigarillo while walking from the room and up the hall. "We need to talk." She loudly called back.

The smells of tobacco and cinnamon assailed him as he shot a glance back to the sleeping woman next to him.
Virgil had seen her awaken from less interruption than this and just assumed this too was Cynthia's work. Especially seeing that Stedd hadn't come bounding out of bed at the first sign of a strangers voice.

He swung his feet out of the covers and stood. throwing a loose shirt on and some breeches, clumsily splashing some water in his face from the wash basin nearby before heading down the hall.

Cynthia sat feet up on the table, a cup of steaming coffee in one hand, cigarillo in the other. Virgil took up a place opposite and poured himself a cup.

"What's going on?" Virgil asked, taking a sip of the hot liquid. It's bitter taste having the desired effect as he felt his senses sharpen.

"That cult you stirred up before you left," she began taking her feet off the table and leaning in. "Good job on that by the way." She complimented with an exhale of smoke, it's fragrance filling the room. Virgil nodded and let her continue.

"There has been a development on that front. Through your initial contact and my own investigation, I've determined that a few new powers are on the rise along the sword Coast. You need to come back with me to sort this uprising out and restore balance to Waterdeep's criminal and lawful element."

Virgil went to argue, his mouth opening but she raised a hand that literally stopped him from speaking.

"It's part of the gig, Virgil. You return to Waterdeep, solve this issue so that the others have a Waterdeep to return to."
She sat back, lowering her hand and taking a drink of her coffee. He felt his ability to speak return.

He felt the unease at this decision, felt the conflict within him. He also realised his opinion on this matter was moot.

"I'll leave a note." He said as Cynthia raised her hand again, this time it held a sealed envelope.

"Already done," she said flatly. "A lovely little note from myself explaining your requirement to return with me to Waterdeep so you may conduct your duties. Don't worry I'll get you back to them as soon as you're done." She confirmed in a sincere tone, slipping the sealed letter over the table. "Leave that with your dwarf companion, it'll have the desired effect should he happen upon it."

Virgil nodded, reluctantly taking the letter and moving back down the hall to the barracks he'd been provided for his companions.
All were present, save Mikarro who had taken a great interest in the workings of the ship they were all travelling on.

He left the letter standing on Ulfgar's belongings before heading back to his own quarters.

Obcaeco still slept soundly. He gathered his belongings and walked from his room, letting his eyes gaze upon her for a moment before moving back to the hall.

Cynthia stood at the end of the hall by the Red Door.

"You ready?" She asked, that wry smile still on her face."
Virgil nodded and she pressed her palm upon its ornate surface. Various locks and mechanisms could be heard responding to her touch. It swung open slowly revealing a long hall lit by sconces.

"Ladies first," Cynthia said, gesturing for Virgil to enter.

Shaking his head with a sigh, he crossed over the threshold leaving his companions behind.

One Night in Waterdeep.

Obcaeco and Virgil were shown from the palace walls after bringing the news of Agatha's brutal demise at Stedd's hands.

Darkness was in its full splendour as the lights of Waterdeep's nightlife dotted the skyline and soon they walked together amongst the bustling streets. A cool breeze surrounded them, bringing mostly pleasant scents of rich food and spices.

They had made their way quietly though the crowds for a few blocks, Virgil's eyes constantly darting here and there yet always finding themselves back to Obcaeco to linger. Obcaeco suddenly put a hand out in front of him, her honed agile form stopping him fast as a cart thundered past at a busy intersection narrowly missing a distracted Virgil.

"Your eyes see much," she said, not looking in his direction, her mouth curled up at the sides in that wry smile. "Yet they seem to be fixed upon me when they should be looking elsewhere."

"It's not my fault," he answered straightening his fine coat and recomposing himself as his eyes once again began their usual scan. "You distract me more than I care to admit."

There was a brief pause where the two just stood at the roadside as the city moved around them.
"Perhaps I can ease your distraction." Obcaeco said, grabbing his hand suddenly and leading him down a small alleyway off the main road and away from prying eyes.
Virgil's heart raced at this action, his imagination making several sensual conclusions before she suddenly stopped, releasing his hand and  flipping open a small pack she was carrying, extracting it's contents onto a nearby crate.

It was the outfit he had gifted to her so many months before.

"I believe some crime fighting is finally in order." She announced quietly and promptly began to disrobe behind an outcropping of old barrels stored there.
Virgil stood there stunned for a moment, before spinning about. Obcaeco's lack of modesty making his face flush.
A moment later he was tapped on the shoulder by the slender monk, adorned in the dark blue and silver lined outfit.

"Well I'm ready," she said, stepping from the shadows that offered her no seclusion from Virgil's magical eyes. "Your turn."

Virgil smiled before uttering the incantation that shrouded him in the illusion of Neifion.
He felt the shift in his mind also, the persona of this masked warden coming to the forefront, Virgil's voice and mannerisms stepping aside to allow Neifion to assume control.

Although Obcaeco could see through the illusion to a degree, she quietly marvelled at the physical transformation that took place when Virgil became shrouded in Neifion's mantle. His shoulders squared back, his heart beat slowed to a calm, cold rhythmic tempo. Even his gait changed when he walked. No longer was his right hand his preference, being able to change at will depending on the situation.
He seemed to stand taller, more ominous.

She felt within herself a sudden rise in heat from the pit of her stomach as she became aware of the change in her own heart rate and breathing. Imperceptible to anyone who may have been observing, but to her, it was like a drum being beaten as if to sound an alarm. She cleared her throat slightly, forcing her attentions elsewhere.
"Shall we?"

The two leapt up onto the kegs then sprang upon the roof of the building. The stars overhead providing a splendorous sight.
"Dock Ward?" She asked and Neifion nodded as they both sped across the rooftops and walls of the Castle Ward.
Obcaeco's speed and agility made her look like a darting shadow in the night. so graceful were her moments that if anyone caught sight of her, it would be mistaken for a trick of the eye or some other fleeting thing.

Neifion pursued the lithe woman's twisting form, his magical abilities allowing him to keep up with the nimble monk in front of him. Black thorny tendrils shot from his device, grasping into walls and propelling him from building to building, aided also by his magical boots that enhanced his jumping distance.

They arrived the shadow of the massive stone walls of the dock ward atop a large warehouse giving Neifion a view of the entire area. Obcaeco's brilliant yet shorter ranged senses honed on their immediate environment while Neifion scanned the docks.

It didn't take long before Neifion saw their first quarry of the night. A woman carrying a crying bundle desperately running into a gas lit warehouse district. Moments later followed by a half dozen men cackling and hooting.

"Let's go." Neifion calmly stated as he sprang down the side of the building.

The soot faced woman darted from building to building. Her breath now coming in ragged gasps. She desperately tried to quiet her hungry child, the babe having none of it.
She made a final turn into a long corridor of warehouses, each illuminated with a small  natural gas lanterns mounted atop steel poles.
The woman reached the end of the corridor, trying desperately to open a door, any door that would take her away from the gang fast approaching. No escape in sight.

The gang closed hooting and jeering the entire time, stopping under the light of two lamps twenty feet away from her.
"We just want the baby, love," sneered one of the men wielding a wickedly barbed knife. "He's promised to us, to our lord Asmodeus!" At the sound of the Arch Devil's name the others shouted unholy words and made gestures with their hands to the night sky. She recoiled, clutching her child closer drawing a dagger and holding it out towards them drawing more jeers from the gang, her babe continued it's shrill wail.

The three lines of lamps behind the cultists suddenly went out in rapid succession, then the lamps revealing the woman and her babe blinked out. The child's cries being the only thing left coming from the darkness.
The cultists spun, brandishing crude but dangerous weapons, their teeth gnashing at the void before them. "Don't interfere lest you be next!" Shouted the lead cultist as the last two lamps providing the only light above them suddenly changed to a green flickering flame, shrouding the entire area in an emerald hue.

"Asmodeus has no dominion within Waterdeep." Came a voice that seemed to come from all around the half dozen cultists, causing them to back into one another and turn on the spot frantically.  "Here, Neifion walks!"

The final lamps blinked out as the woman clutched her baby watched on as the area was lit up with a blast of  green flame here or a bright burst of light there, screams and sounds of metal against metal and fists chrunching faces sounded out, suddenly the lamps roared back back on flooding the area in an emerald glow.

It took a moment for the woman's eyes to readjust to the lanterns in the street before she made out the heaped bodies of the cultists, bloodied and battered, but breathing. She suddenly gasped as off to the side she saw a dark figure, cloaked head to toe, wreathed black flames. It stepped forward and she shied back from this seemingly new threat, still holding the dagger. The figure stopped at her reaction and the flames surrounding it disappeared, leaving only a well dressed figure in black finery and a wide brimmed hat with billowing cape in the still night. The lower half of his face covered by an ornate silver etched mask that glinted in the rekindled glow.

"You are safe," He said in a strange ethereal voice, raising a device to the sky and loosing two bolts of bright green energy. "The guards will be here soon. Go to the Sea Ward and find an Inn called The Dragon Hoard. Speak to a woman named Lillian and she will see you moved to a safer place to stay."
The figure turned to leave and the woman reached a hand out, "W-wait!" she stammered. "Who are you?"

The figure half turned, "A protector. I am Neifion, Warden of Waterdeep. Pray for my protection and I will hear your call."
The figure turned away and leapt upward into the shadow and the night.

Some time later Virgil opened a door to his sanctum before he and Obcaeco spilled in, both laughing and short of breath.

"Thanks for the spotlight after the fight, Ob." Virgil exclaimed, removing his jacket and hanging it upon a nearby hook at the door.

"I believe in what you're trying to achieve here," she stated matter of factually dropping her pack and stretching out her arms and back in the hallway. "It was only fitting that you use this moment to establish your goal."
He moved down the hall and into a room before quickly reemerging with two glasses and a bottle.
"Drink?" He asked, moving into his personal quarters, the fire roaring to life as he entered.
Obcaeco moved to follow him into the room as Virgil hastily poured a drink for them both and downed his, still frantically reprising the events of the night, his voice full of excitement. He didn't notice that Obcaeco had stopped in the doorway.

Virgil, suddenly realising he was the only one speaking looked up from his recounting and watched Obcaeco move into the room, slipping off parts of her garments as she edged ever closer, her veil the last part of her ensemble to hit the floor before she stood before him, dangerously close. Golden and Obsidian eyes locked and he witnessed the unbridled power within her. His breath caught, unable to move as she stood but inches from him. Her mouth so close to his.
"Show me what happens next, Virgil." she whispered on trembling lips.
Virgil paused, ever so briefly, before allowing  his lips to find hers. 

Then, for the final time that night, darkness engulfed them once more.

Thirty Three Days

Day 1

Journal Entry. Day 1
Location: Outskirts of Waterdeep.

We are split.

Coming out of yet another, how should I put this, "less than trustworthy" performance from Stedd in the face of danger, we are now burdened with the additional duty of watching over Stedd's niece.

In case I don't survive for what ever reason, it should be recorded for posterity that Kerri, (Stedd's Niece), seems to be transition from "Human" to "Other." 

With our previous run in with The Hags of Baldur's Gate, I'd hoped that we had stopped this whatever curse had her from happening.  Despite our best efforts to protect her from this fate, she is changing into one of these evil freaks.

To top it off, Henry, in all is infinite wisdom has suggested that she come with us. 

I hadn't said a word after Stedd's latest episode of fear. That changed once Henry presented us with this latest great idea.

I broke my silence, suggesting that Stedd take Kerri to a safer place and lie low. Redlarch or Lirra's School.

Anywhere but with us. Dealing with this Dragon Cult nonsense was becoming hard enough with out the added treat of an ally turning and running at every sign of something dangerous.

I was surprised that Stedd agreed with us. It made sense to him and I was relieved, for about six seconds, until others decided against this course of action.

I didn't push the issue, being utterly exhausted by this latest round of bullshit. I pointed my horse in the direction of Daggerford and rode on.

Cynthia,
I've got nothing on this one. A little help would be appreciated.
If she grows a second head or something, I'll let you know.

V.C

Day 6

Journal Entry. Day 6
Location: Outskirts of Daggerford

I've kept as much of an eye on her and the others as I could without bringing attention to myself. Watching them all interact with her has given me an insight to their motives.
Our resident Dragonborn has kept close to her, at first it was subtle but the more I watched, the more I realised why he was keeping close.

V.C

Mikarro moved up and down the column of the Initiative's travelling rank on Filkati, his massive reptillian quadruped. Obcaeco and Virgil were following the road at the head of the group. Talk amongst those two had lessened since the Initiatives new arrival. Ulfgar kept his spot in the middle of the group. The usually jovial dwarf was now sullen and quiet, his brow in a constant furrow. Mikarro suspected this was due to his current attempts at alleviating the poor girls condition had all but failed with his ministrations providing only temporary solutions that soon reverted back.

Stedd looked haggard, eyes sunken and pale. This frail, sensitive human being at his most vulnerable with his blood kin undergoing this strange transformation. Stedd had barely slept a since her arrival. Wracked by dreams as rested. Mikarro had noticed this as he suspected the others had too.

Kerri clung to Stedd, riding pillion. He'd noted that at first, even Stedd's horse was unsettled by her presence. As he patrolled the line of travellers he visually checked in on her. The reports of her growing power worried him, although his stoic reptilian face kept these feelings well shielded to the others. Considering even her appearance was now vastly different to that of the sweet girl he had travelled with to Waterdeep, he knew that she'd be a talking point in any village or town if she were spotted.
He watched her closely while she trained with Obcaeco, who for all intents and purposes, had embraced this newcomer and was eager to help her develop her powers.
When they trained, his gaze was locked on her with every incantation she muttered, every motion she made as she practised.

Kerri's need to consume raw flesh is what effected the group the most. It was common for his kind to on occasion eat raw flesh when necessary, but for a young, human girl! 

He could see that everyone was abhorred by this behaviour, yet perhaps for Stedd's benefit, all remained silent.

Often he found his hand moving to his hammer instinctively when he saw this, stopping himself before anyone noticed.

He hoped her manifesting powers could be controlled.

He did not want to entertain an outcome where she could not.

Day 11

Journal Entry. Day 11.

Kerri's body continues to contort as her bones creak and extend. Her revulsion of standard food grows. She's now unable to eat anything but raw meat. Ulfgar has brought to bare all but the most powerful of his healing abilities his God has to offer with no real success. I can see it in his whole body that he's not used to this kind of failure. Trying to stay focused on our current task is becoming increasingly difficult as the group continues to pay more attention to the problem travelling with us instead of the real goal.

I feel for Ulfgar. Failure doesn't suit him one bit.

V.C

"Mother, bless us and keep us strong and unified. Bless this group as a family and watch over us as we undertake this task." Ulfgar prayed, eyes shut and hands clasped around his holy symbol. The metal of the two circles digging into his calloused palms and fingers.
"Mother bless young Kerri and grant her the will to cling to what makes her good and decent." His hands began to shudder slightly with the force of which he clasped his symbol.
"Mother, bless Stedd and impart strength enough to hang on for his dear niece. Grant him the grace to overcome his fears," barely pausing between each prayer, his words more fervently spoken as he continued.

"Mother, bless our protectors, Mikarro and Lirra. Their unwavering courage is a beacon of hope to our family. Guide their hands and hearts.

"Mother, bless Obcaeco and Virgil, that they may share each of their qualities in equal measure. Let Obcaeco's love of all things open Virgil's heart and let Virgil's resolve temper that same love with wisdom."

After a brief pause, Ulfgar continued, his own blood now oozing out between clenched fingers.
"Mother, I beg you. Grant me the strength to cure this child and restore this families spirit. Take what you need from me. I offer my all to see this done."

He opened his moistened eyes and wiped them quickly with the back of his hands before looking at his blood soaked palms. The twin circles having cut deep marks into them. He closed his eyes and breathed a restorative prayer, feeling the flesh of his hands knit back together with a tingling warmth.

He noticed Mikarro dressing a brace of rabbits that he must have gone out and caught during his final watch. He felt the sadness return to his face as he looked down on Kerri and Stedd. Both sleeping restlessly and knowing that at least one of those rabbits were probably for her, with the others going to Filkati, Mikarro's reptilian mount.

"Dragonspear Castle is only a few hours out," Virgil said in a voice that carried across the small camp, snapping him out of his thoughts. "We can be past it before mid morning if we hustle." 

Stedd, Kerri and Obcaeco stirred at the sound of his raised voice.

Ulfgar gave the young man a nod and Virgil nodded back. His face holding that neutral, emotionless look he'd been maintaining since Waterdeep. Ulfgar watched the lad expertly adjust his horse's saddle and harness before swinging up onto its back and setting a trot for a distance then into a canter. 

Had Virgil watched as Ulfgar poured out his most desperate pleas to Mother Truesilver?

He couldn't be sure.

Day 19

Journal Entry: Day 19

When I asked Stedd to leave on the outskirts of Waterdeep, It wasn't out of anger, or selfishness or even cruelty. When I think about it, which I find myself doing a lot these days, I realise it came from A place of defeat. Kerri's arrival took the last part of me that thought he'd be able to turn his fear around, become a hero that we all needed him to be. 

Now I can't even begrudge him his cowardice.

He has a monster to take care of.
V.C.



"Hold here!" Stedd heard Virgil shout from the front of the group.
He brought his horse to a halt quicker than he wanted. The tension in the reins caused his horse to jolt
and he felt the claw-like nails of his niece dig into his torso.
He winced but did his best to hide the pain, not wanting to upset her.

Dreams had plagued the small amount of sleep he'd been able to get since taking Kerri from Henry.
The days travelled blended into one another. At rest breaks he would watch Kerri train with Obcaeco. Watching and praying that whatever this change was that was consuming her wouldn't consume her humanity.

His eyes scanned the group, looking for any change in their moods that might indicate a threat to Kerri. He had to watch out. Had to keep alert. Had to keep her safe.
Lirra was already out of the saddle, stretching lithely like a cat warming itself in the sun. When Lirra's eyes passed over them, he felt their indifference, their lack of respect.
Mikarro rode past them, moving to the front of the column and he nodded briefly as their eyes met.
Ulfgar slowly climbed out of the saddle and dropped down, his shoulders visibly slumped, every day he'd helped Kerri with a spell or a prayer, alleviating some of her symptoms but this morning he hadn't even tried.

"Uncle, can I please go and train with Obcaeco?" he heard Kerri ask from behind him.
"huh?" he stammered, before the sentence formed and made sense a moment later. "Su- Sure, Kerri." He answered as she dropped from the saddle, causing the horse to move a few steps away from her.

"Come along, Kerri," came Obcaeco's melodic voice. " Let us work on your focus today."
Stedd forced a small smile onto his face as he watched the two move into a clearing off the road a short way.
For a moment Kerri was just a girl in a field, playing with a friend. The moment vanished back to reality as the wind picked up, making Kerri's cloak billow, revealing her gangly limbs and greyish coloured flesh.
"What am I going to do?" he mouthed to himself as he climbed off the horse, walking it up to where Virgil had sunk a steak into the soft ground off the road and gathered the other mounts.
He smelled the now all too familiar scent of a rabbit being dressed and prepared to cook. One lone rabbit from the brace being kept aside for his Niece's disturbing new appetites.

He sighed, hands on hips and head down looking at his own feet as a nervous sweat dripped off his nose. "What am I going to do?" he said to himself, closing his eyes.
Flashes of the nightmares he had played over and over again. Images of his sister and Omearon. Of his Sister's death! Of Kerri as a babe, his sister defending her from Omearon and a wicked blade!
He forced his eyes to open, finding him self almost labouring for breath.

Stedd's eyes locked with Virgil for a moment. The calm emotionless demeanour hadn't shifted once since their departure with Kerri. He could only hold his gaze with those eyes of pure darkness for a second before looking away not daring to look back save for a small sideways look.
Virgil had already gone back to tending his horse by this point. Had he just imagined Virgil staring at him? He shook his head. Not sure of what to think.
Virgil's silence was not helping anything. He knew the man he bonded with at Greenest didn't trust him anymore and why should he? He felt so isolated in these moments and he was truly terrified.

What could he do to stop this?

What could anyone do?

Day 23

Journal Entry: Day 23
Outskirts of Boarskyer Bridge.

When I first met Lirra I never would have thought in a thousand years we would be, friends? Business Partners? Comrades in Arms?

In all that is currently going on, her attitude and rationale to this situation is the only thing making sense to me. 

Obcaeco's naivety has been completely infuriating these past two tenday. Her incessant optimism has been a growing source of frustration.

Lirra's fiery temperament and whimsical personality will not be quenched despite all that is happening. She's not made a move towards Stedd or Kerri this whole journey. She's refusing to have anything to to with them has been one of the only grounding factors in this whole mess.

If things go south, She may be the only one I can count on.

V.C.

When the Boarskyer Bridge and the dozens of large pavilion tents that were set up on its opposite side came into view Lirra grinned.

She trotted up next to Virgil, his hat pulled low to ward off the bright sun. 

"Finally some other people to talk to than you lot!" She exclaimed joyfully. Virgil took no offence as he knew her well enough to know she meant none.

Lirra looked back over her shoulder to see the others closing in behind. Stedd had covered Kerri in his cloak, covering her increasingly garish appearance. 

She frowned openly at the sight of those two.

"Mother and Father would have been able to help those two more than we ever could," she said nonchalantly to Virgil as they approached. "Uncle Renwick would have her back to herself in no time. Maybe they could find Stedd a spare backbone."

If she intended to elicit a reaction from Virgil, she didn't show it. Her eyes not leaving the first real sign of civilisation they'd seen in over a tenday. 

Lirra's attention was caught by a sign nearby indicating an one of the larger pavilions was set up as an inn. 

"I'll go and set us up some rooms for the rest of the day." Lirra said before trotting ahead, leaving Virgil alone to wait for the others.

Day 25

Journal Entry: Day 25

Location: Trail leading towards Serpent Hills.

I knew she'd disagree with my outlook on this whole situation.
She's as much about family and love as the Dwarf is on any given day.

But how is it possible to immediately look past the horror of a moment to immediately see the good?

Her goal in everything is to bring the light to all who have lost it. To show through her actions that there is no opposing force that will diminish her resolve.

This, unfortunately, goes double for me.

She urges me to help Kerri. To show her the finer points of how I fight. To which I've flatly refused. I expect an argument, every time she asks me.

I want to argue. 

To tell her she's being stupid, that she could be training a thing we may have to someday put down.
Every day she's asks me to help. I refuse, silence being my answer. She smiles and leaves.

She sees the potential in Kerri when all I am looking for is a way to make it some one else's problem. 

We have bigger fish to fry without our focus being scattered by this.

She believes that there's a way for us all to help Kerri become more than this curse. 

She still believes in me even though I've done nothing is late to earn her favour.

V.C

Obcaeco awoke, sitting up and stretching before letting her senses adjust to her immediate surroundings. Ulfgar had summoned the days breakfast and it smelled delightful.
She moved to the area the food had been laid out, nimbly stepping over some jagged rocks along the way.

She walked Virgil who was sitting against his horses saddle, journal in hand. She a smile as she passed. Her hand touched the shoulder of Ulfgar as she knelt beside him and took some the warm bread and pulled a small part off before placing it delicately into her mouth.

"My thanks, Ulfgar." She said,  sensing him nod in acknowledgement.

"My pleasure as always, lass." He answered somewhat solemnly. His tone of late reflecting the slump of his shoulders, his posture in sitting.  She could feel the doubt in his heart. The uncertainty beginning to take root there.

She squeezed his shoulder again as she stood with her bread, widening her senses and detecting the others. Virgil had moved to the horses, Mikarro was astride Filkati. The great reptilian beast loped about the perimeter of the camp. Lirra was training quietly, putting her body through exercises to enhance her flexibility.

"Hello, Obcaeco." Came the voice of the young girl, Kerri.

Obcaeco tilted her head in the direction of the child's voice sensing her and Stedd approaching.

She smiled a genuine smile at the two.

"Hello to you both," she beamed as she finished off her piece of bread. "What shall we work on today, Kerri?" She asked, taking her arm.

"You," Stedd stumbling over his words in a low tone, "you don't have to do this, Cake."

Obcaeco only smiled to Stedd, gently wresting Kerri away from him.

"Breakfast is served, Stedd. Go and get yourself some food and drink," Obcaeco gestured with her free hand back to the camps direction. "Kerri and I will be over here." Pointing in the opposite direction to a clearing not too far off the trail.

Stedd went to object, then suddenly realised that he didn't have it in him to do so. Obcaeco sensed his hesitation and merely smiled, bowing slightly before turning with Kerri and heading for the nearby clearing. A slight breeze caused the long grass in the area to dance and sway, the sound of its whisper pleasing her.

"Why are you helping me, Cake?" Kerri asked. Obcaeco continued to walk with her toward the clearing. "Aren't you worried like the others?"

She wasn't oblivious to this girls plight. In fact she was the more attuned to it than anyone else. Yet she also knew that this poor girl was in a state of transition so horrifying to her and those around her that she flatly refused to allow that horror to ostracise her from Kerri.

Without hesitating she answered, "We train to focus our talents that we may use them to benefit others that are in need of them." 

They walked together a few more paces in silence before Kerri spoke up.

"But how can I anyone when I look like, like this?" She held her clawed arms out in front of her.

"I cannot see you like others do, Kerri. Your appearance does not determine your heart." She explained, pausing to face the girl. "And don't let anyone tell otherwise."

Kerri's stifled tears flowed and Obcaeco drew her close, holding her, soothing her with quiet a quiet
'shh', like a mother would with a crying babe.

Obcaeco knew now more than ever that she may be the only thing stopping Kerri from believing she was a monster.

She took no pride in this. Expected no adulation. She would do what she believed was right. 

She would not judge the fear beset in her companions. 

She would not scorn the man who she cared for so much.

For what kind of monster would she herself become if she didn't help Kerri?

Day 33

Journal Entry. Day 33

Outside some bloody crypt in the Serpent Hills.

Where to start....
Cynthia, if you're reading this (and I hope you are), skip to the end for the important stuff. If you want to read on, sit down, grab a drink. It's been one hell of a ride.

In the last eight days I've  been able to track my way into this gods awful place. 

We encountered yet another hag during our watch. She approached us willingly, baring gifts. The gift of information. Stedd ended her life. I was truly impressed.

We now have a name and a possible means to give Kerri some semblance of a future.

From what we now know it sounds like her fate to become a hag is sealed. However, it looks as if we can grant her freedom of mind. She will retain her will.

This is somewhat of a consolation prize in the long run. Her young life will be forever changed by this event.

Another good thing at least to come from this new information was the galvanising effect it has had upon the group. We all agree that once this Dragon Cult leader has been grabbed, we will go after the hag behind the whole thing. I can use this new drive to achieve our goals in the long term. The group is far more open to ideas when they believe they're doing the right thing.

We arrived at the crypt this morning to find corpses of men and women strewn about.
With some warning and luck we survived an ambush from the Cult of The Dragon.
We all faced, Stedd included, another red dragon and it's allies and won.

The only issue with this current attack was that they knew we were coming. Either we've proven a big enough threat that they're tracking us somehow by magical means, or we are leaving a trail of our own, either accidentally or intentionally.
We turned out all our pockets in case we were carrying something that they were using to track us and have taken cautionary steps. We wont know if it is enough or not at this point.

V.C

P.S - 

Cynthia, we have the name of the hag behind this whole mess with Kerri.
Grandmother Agatha.
Can you sniff around and find out any information as to her whereabouts. She will be our next target.
Also,
I know I'm asking a lot, but if you've got means to figure out how we're being tracked, that'd be good to know.
- Virgil.

Cynthia - Interlude.

Virgil's book glowed the dark red that he'd come to despise. This woman in charge, Cynthia had come in and thrown her weight around, changing this and that, his lovely green flames now this vile crimson colour.

He stared at the cover, not wanting to open it. His reluctance came from a fear of what he might become if he was stripped of his powers. What if this new Neifion took from him the one thing that had turned his life to good?

Could he go back to being, Just Virgil?

Additionally, he hated that fucking red glow.

He stuffed the journal back into his satchel and sealed it away, before settling down for the night.
The campfire crackling lightly as Mikarro and Lirra took watch.

He tipped his hat over his face and settled back into his bedroll, sleep coming easily despite after the events of the last few days.

The dreams came again. A dream that was becoming more and more common. It was a welcomed dream.
Bodies writhing, sensations heightened. A distortion of light and reality.
His focus cleared, expecting to see the face of a the woman he longed for. To his surprise it was a face that took him a moment to recognise.
Cynthia!

"Do I have your attention now?" She cooed, a smirk on her face.

Virgil flung her from atop him and the scene shifted quickly and seamlessly, to a scenario of his sanctuary and the familiar crackle of the fireplace near the round table set with a deck of cards, two chairs aside it. Cynthia sat, feet upon the table a cigarillo between fingers. It's smoke permeated the room with a rich wooden tobacco scent.
She wore a short sleeved vest of shiny black material, buttoned across her chest save the top two, leaving nothing of her figure to the imagination. Her legs clad in a similar black material and long boots worn over them that were embossed with a tangle of thorns.
Her long brown hair fell across her shoulder onto her bare arms. the flickering light of the fire catching in the sheen from it.

"You don't call, you don't write." She said, taking the Cigarillo between her lips and drawing back the smoke, its red tip flaring.
"What is a girl meant to think?" she asked after a long exhale. The smoke wafting in his direction. Her voice carrying a overacted tone of incredulity.

Virgil noted the still reddish tinge of the firelight. The tint she had inflicted upon his sanctuary as part of showing off her new dominion over him and the others. 

She'd killed and clawed her way to a point where she'd amassed enough power to overthrow a greater denizen of the fey and usurp it's power for her own. 

Thankfully, he was clothed again, making this dream a little more bareable. He moved closer to the table and Cynthia's leg shifted, nudging the pushed-in chair back, allowing him to sit across from her. He did so, one hand reflexively falling to the deck of cards. He felt their weight, their shape, before beginning to shuffle the deck, not taking his eyes from hers.

"I was just doing what you asked," he began. "Keeping out of your way, doing my own thing."

He dealt two out each and placed four down in the centre between them, face down.

"I guess there's no point in actually playing, huh?" he asked. Taking a quick peek down at his cards before returning his eyes to the woman opposite her.
She kept her eyes on him taking a slow glance down at her cards before looking back to Virgil.
No twitches, no tells.

"Oh no," she replied keeping her eyes steeled on his. "This is your dream. I'm just visiting. And I wouldn't dare cheat."
Virgil left his cards where they were leaning in and dropping any pretence of playing the hand.

"You know what I'm working on right now, don't you?" He said. "You know what's at stake?"

Cynthia nodded as he spoke, taking in his words before she too leaned in, mimicking his movements.

"I didn't at first," she answered, "I was busy trying to overthrow an archaic and corrupt institution, so I was a little preoccupied."

Virgil scoff was cut short as she continued, raising her index finger as if to silence him.

"But! A short time after taking control, I took stock of what each Shade was dealing with and I've got to admit, You've got your work cut out for you."  she paused a moment to take a deep draw of her cigarillo before offering it to her reluctant charge. "I didn't expect someone in my order would be at the tip of the spear in an offensive to thwart The Cult of The Dragon."

Virgil reached out with a calm hand, taking the cigarillo from her before placing it between his own lips and drawing in the tobacco.

"You can keep that," She remarked, smoke coming out of her nose and mouth as a lithe hand reached into her jacket hanging from the she was seated on. A brief rummage later, Cynthia placed a small silver box on the table, producing another cigarillo from within.

"Alright," Virgil says exhaling sharply, "You've got my attention. What do you want?"

"I want to offer you, My dear Virgil, My full assistance." She states before adding quickly, "And assurance that I am not here to hinder your task."

"Good, you can start by changing the fucking fire in here and the colour of Thorne back to green." He says bluntly, allowing an heir of frustration within his voice to show.

"Done!" She says chuckling, waving her hand. as the familiar greenish tinge returned to the room. "That was not the first request that I was expecting," She admitted, still smiling that charming, perfect smile that Virgil couldn't deny was alluring.  He could taste something on his lips, left on the cigarillo that Cynthia had passed to him. Cinnamon?

"That's it." Virgil stated,  before his face became stern, "oh, and don't strip me of my powers. People are depending on me now. It's not just about me any more." It was then that Cynthia saw it for a moment, a crack in his perfectly unshakeable visage. His face had the intimidating coolness that he so often wore, but his eyes.
His eyes were pleading.

Cynthia kept her demeanour in check, not wanting to show that she'd seen Virgil's tell.
"Virgil," she began, her tone warm and assuring, "You and your predecessor are what I am looking to cultivate within our order." She kept her smile sincere, "You need not fear me, so long as you keep doing this good work."

He nodded, relieved to hear the words he needed to believe were true.
"Well in that case, would you mind letting me get back to sleep?" He asked, a wry smirk forming on his face. "Big day of 'hero stuff' tomorrow."

Cynthia let out a loud "Ha!" Before standing and drawing her jacket from the chair and swinging it across her shoulders.  "I interrupted quite the sweaty dream," She cooed again in that same tone he heard earlier in the night. "You had no intention of any restful sleep."

Virgil dropped his gaze and stood also, left without words to say.
Cynthia moved from the table towards the exit. "You should really make that dream a reality, she's cute, and so very strong." She added, stopping inches from Virgil's face. He could smell the cinnamon on her breath as she stood dangerously close.
"Unless you want to make ours a reality." She said, her seductive presence brought to bare. Virgil pointed  down the hall, keep his eyes on hers.

"Door's that way. Let yourself out."

Cynthia shrugged and nodded before walking past him down the hall.
"Well, if you ever change your mind, you know how to find me." She stopped at the door and opened it, looking back over her shoulder.
"There's perks to be had for bedding the boss."

"In your dreams, perhaps." Virgil retorted. "Not mine."

Parnast Interlude.

"That was the craziest day we've had! Ever!" Virgil exclaimed. Hanging his jacket on the nearby rack in the room he and Stedd had rented for their wait in Parnast.
He felt wrung out, feeling the wear and tear of his efforts finally hit now that he was safe and somewhat relaxed. He poured himself a cup of wine and offered Stedd one, who declined, before sitting on the single bed and kicking his boots off, letting his stretched legs relax.

Stedd was busily rummaging through his bag of holding, smiling as he produced various gems and coins. He looked surprisingly well for someone who'd just been at the business end of a dragon breath. Virgil silently praised his resilience.
"We've made out like bandits," Stedd claimed through his grin. "We've more coin here than I've ever seen."
"Plenty more to come too," Virgil added as he took a mouthful of wine, sighing contently after he swallowed. "Provided our undead dragon friend doesn't burn my books down, we've got even more coming out way if my hunch is right."
Stedd smiled at that and had to readjust his place on the bed as that new sword he had on his hip got in the way.
"You should bite the bolt and get Lirra to show you around that thing," he said, pointing to the ornate looking hilt of Stedd's new weapon.
"She knows her weapons and she's gotta lay off you now that you stood up to, and!-" He added emphasising the latter, "it was your doing that took the fight out of the dragon." A look of unshakable certainty on his face.
Stedd nodded to this last part, still seeming unconvinced about dealing with Lirra as his nods turned to shakes.
"I dunno man," he hesitantly spoke, as Virgil watched his preservation instincts battle to the surface. "She's all bluster and bravado, I've got no interest in getting shown up by her."
Virgil nodded, seeing pride coming to the forefront of this conversation. He waited the right length of time before continuing.
"Okay then," he added with a tone that would imply a new thought. "What if we train together, and we get Lirra to instruct us both?"
Stedd cocked his head slightly, eyes looking off to the side as he began to consider that possibility. Virgil pressed the idea, hoping to edge it in the right direction.
"I want to familiarise myself with other weapons. How they work, what to expect. We can use this time to learn to defend ourselves better! We can still get killed by swords even if we don't like using them." Virgil's momentum carried on.  "Let's use this time to learn how to stay alive better, and help protect our friends in the process!" Virgil raised his tone slightly, allowing an inflection of excitement to coat his words.

*in game, Virgil would be using his diplomat ability to persuade Stedd.*

"Alright, alright," Stedd conceded, "but we spar and Lirra can oversee us." Virgil nodded in agreement.
"I'm not fighting her!" He stated in a final tone.
"Of course, man!" Virgil agreed, reinforcing Stedd's decision. "This will be great!" He added  gulping down his wine before pouring two more glasses out.
Stedd frowned and turned the outstretched cup down. Virgil didn't want to press too hard on his friend. He clanged the two cups together, toasting his own success and drained them both before settling in for the night.

"Hey Virge," Stedd began as Virgil opened one eye too look over in his direction.
"What's going on between you and Cake?"

All In

Books, Lots of Books.

Virgil took a moment to reflect on the feat he had achieved. He currently stood in an ornate library, within a hidden castle, surrounded by an enemy force that he now controlled.

He couldn't help but grin at this.
With but a few augmented words he had turned ally against ally and overthrown a major enemy stronghold.

The powers that Neifion had given him felt godlike and for the first time he could remember, he felt like he was doing good. Something that his parents would be proud of.

Deception, gambling and exploitation were all things he used for personal gain. Never for a moment did he think his talents could be used in this way.

He had killed. Again. As the grin evaporated from his face, he recounted the fight against the commander of this castle, the cold calculating elf and his cultist guards. He had almost discounted it considering the whirl of events that followed.
He'd also sent his enemies into a trap, a trap in the form of dozens of lizard folk spears and teeth, to be torn apart in an ambush.
Virgil put the books down he was stacking onto a nearby pile and took out his own journal and lay it atop a chest high column of invaluable volumes of what appeared to contain information about the stars. "Henry's gonna have kittens when he sees these." He mused before focusing back to the blank page of the magical tome.

Castle Neyartar is under our control.
Coerced local lizard folk tribe to turn against current cultist regime and assist in coup.
Lizard folk still believe that we are cultists. We have taken no prisoners to ensure our cover remains in tact. Using this to our advantage.
Cultist presence in castle has been removed. Dispatched majority of Cultist forces through deception, ambush and confusion.

He lowered his pen, allowing the words to seep into his magical journal, before adding.

Was this the correct course of action?

This last question wasn't an easy one to write.
He understood Neifion was concerned with bringing balance, restoring the natural order of things but had he achieved this here?

He thought back further to the chain of events to date. He turned his memory to what these cultists were capable of in Greenest. People slaughtered on the streets. Families torn apart. He'd seen dozens die that night. He'd witnessed the power they would bring to bare against defenceless folk.

Grim faced and resolute, Virgil closed the journal and returned it to his satchel before a reply even arrived.

Yes, he was doing the right thing.
The balance will be restored.

Suit Up

Virgil's reality continued to be shaken around him with this latest revelation that these terrible acts were happening within Baldurs Gate's walls. Forget Greenest and the Dragon, and the little scale covered beasts that had made his life less than fun for a few weeks.

These things were happening on his own doorstep and from the look of it, by his own people. The criminal element in Baldurs Gate had always been a constant, but none had considered blowing up one of the biggest defensible bastions the city had going for it.

Henry and the group had been informed and his reaction was one of hastened efficiency as messages were written and rolled into tubes of glass. Virgil wondered what kind of magic must have been on those tubes as the contents faded to nothing.

Mikarro and Ulfgar seemed to take the news in their stride, as if this was expected of this place. They conversed to themselves over a plan of the tower that Horus unfurled over a small table. Two stacks of books at each end preventing it from curling back up on itself.

Stedd did his usual thing and went wide eyed out of Harry's office, his loud footfalls stomping up the stairs could be heard.

Obcaeco just sat still, as if assimilating the information she'd just heard hadn't swayed her here nor there.

Virgil felt his mind cloud over. His thoughts jumbled and he couldn't rationalise what action was about to take place. 

He left Henry's room and motioned for the barkeep to grab a bottle and two glasses and he moved up the stairs. 

From Stedd's room the sounds of hurried packing could be easily heard. From the open door Virgil watched Stedd cramming everything into the bag of holding that lay open on his bed.

"Don't you think you're-" Stedd cut Virgil off with his sudden turn and drawing of his dagger.

Stedd took a step back suddenly, his dagger held only by his thumb as he outstretched the fingers on both hands and raised them slightly, eyes darting from Virgil's down to Thorn that was drawn and pointed at Stedd.

"You gonna put that away?" Stedd asked, as he sheathed his own blade. Virgil complied, placing Thorn back into its holster, coughing to clear the awkward silence.

"Drinks?" Virgil asked, glasses and bottle clinking as he raised them as he took half a step in.
Stedd's hand shot up, "Wait!" He said with hushed urgency. "Don't step there," He pointed directly in front of Virgil's raised boot. "Or there, or, you know what? Let's drink in your room."

Virgil nodded, smiling slightly and exited, opening the door across the hall and poured the fragrant red wine into the cups before setting down the bottle and handing a glass out to Stedd who followed him in a moment later.

"You gonna run?" Virgil asked. Stedd's hands slightly shook as he took the glass and gulped a mouthful.

"I was gonna go get Dad and Keri ready to move as soon as possible." He said, calming down a touch as the alcohol did its work.

"You're not gonna do the same?" Stedd asked, "I mean, go get your folks and make them safe?"
Virgil took a sip, considering his response for a moment.

"I'm gonna help fight," He said looking elsewhere, before his black eyes locked onto Stedds. "And I want you to fight with me."

Stedd' started to shake his head involuntarily before  Virgil had finished his request, as he'd seen him do several times before when the idea of a prepared fight had been raised.

"I get your not comfortable with yourself in fights, you dress tough to try to dissuade people from fighting you. But I need you to stop looking scary and start actually being fucking scary!"
Stedd still didn't seem convinced, his eyes having trouble meeting Virgil's.
"I want that fucking guy who was ready to gut someone just to get information about his loved ones captives. I wan't that guy to watch my back in whatever is about to happen next."

Virgil went over to where his leather armour sat on a chair and slid it over his head, fastening it down the sides, is face grimacing slightly at the weight and restriction of it. He strapped his long knife to his left thigh. Sheathed a dagger on his belt and rechecked the fastenings on the embossed holster that held Thorn.
He flung his fine long coat over his shoulders, it billowing out behind him as it settled as he turned around, Stedd held out the final part of his transformation, The black, wide-brimmed hat. 

Virgil took it and placed it on, adjusting it slightly at the front before calling upon his innate magics to alter his appearance. All of his clothing, his armour and boots, turned into a mat black, the lining of his jacket a deep purple and finally, a black mask with etchings of silver materialised over his lower face, completely masking his identity.

Stedd smiled. "Either you're going to a really fancy masquerade ball, or a whole bunch of people are about to be killed by the best dressed guy in town." Stedd quipped.

 "Excellent," Virgil stated as he moved to the window and flung it open before climbing out onto the ledge. "That's what I was going for. Tell the others I'll be waiting at the outskirts of the Fort. Go see what they want us to do."

Without waiting for a response, Virgil was gone from sight. Stedd rushed over to his window to see him running along the side of the wall up to the buildings roof. He scoffed loudly "Gods dammit, Virgil." He said in a hushed whisper to the night sky, still shaking his head before turning around and almost falling out the window as Obcaeco stood only two feet from him. "Gods Dammit! Obcaeco!" He shouted, visibly shaken. 

"I just noticed Virgil outside and thought I'd come up and see what was happening."

"Come on," Stedd replied with a huff, turning Obcaeco around and leading her back out the room. "Time to tell the others that Virgil's off to kill himself."

Questions and Reflections. - Hoard of The Dragon Queen. Chapter 2.

Just shut up and listen.
Don't write back or interrupt. I need to get this out of my system.

What in the nine hells have you gotten me into?
Greenest, these people, this 'Cult of The Dragon.'

You say that I have skills that are needed for the task. But if the task is to be surrounded by dragons of all shapes and sizes, then that's a shitty task.

I'm not stupid or narrow minded. Cards are all about knowing what's ahead of you. Prediction, awareness, opportunity. And, I know that this force that is pillaging these small towns wont stop here. This is just the precursor to something big. But I think you've got the wrong guy!

Haven't you?

Fuck! You know what? Three days ago I wouldn't have given a care about this blasted little backwater town or its bloody people, but you put me in the thick of it. Even this group of folks that I've been lugged in with were better equipped to deal with this mess.

A walking lizard that looks like the bloody creatures I've been shooting at for two days. Yet devoted to bringing these bastards to a peaceful end.
Another bloke from Baldur's. The "Locksmith" Interesting bloke though. We had a few moments that first night it all went to shite.
A blind(?) holy woman that can do the most incredible things!
A dwarf priest. Bristling with armour and the ability to heal the most ghastly wounds.

And Lirra. 
Now this woman was able to make me question more of my sense of self in one night than all the nights I've hustled cards and played dubious hands over the last decade.

In two days, I have seen horrors that I'd never thought I'd have to. I've been granted these "gifts" from you.
I've walked through an entire camp of things that wanted me dead. I've faced a dragon attack, and aided this town of Greenest with information pertinent to the discovery and perhaps prevention of this cults next move.
I've killed monsters. I have killed. 

Is my role in all of this over now? Or has it only just begun?

And who is Neifion? 
Are you Neifion? 
Am I?

I'm closing this book now for a bit. I need to rest and I can smell Stedd's baking down the bloody hall. 

Neifion - The Lord of Bats

Neifion The Lord of Bats.

He had watched Virgil move from tavern to tavern for weeks. Uncaring and calculated as he fleeced unsuspecting card players, novice and expert alike.

Virgil's hands and acuity, naturally quick. He was impressed with Virgil's ability to run the hustle completely. From start to finish, a flawless exercise in planning and execution.
He was Neifion - Lord of Bats, and he had been at his masters service for near all his adult life.
He was older, and slower now. Slower than what was required to be the embodiment Neifion.
He thought of what it had been to be Neifion all these years. The lives he'd made better, or worse. He had thought of those lives he had taken.
To have his name whispered by the people his actions influenced. To the nobility, he was a scourge upon their corrupted tax collectors. To the criminal underworld, he was the shadow that fought back against their stand over tactics and violence. To those that toil endlessly in their fields to feed and clothe their families, he was a Godsend. To Gamblers, like Virgil, he was a flip of a coin. A favoured patron, or a name to curse when your luck was down.
Neifion had fought to maintain a balance of good and evil. Favouring neither, but not allowing one to completely overthrow the other.
The balance must be kept.
He saw the potential in Virgil. He saw the skill set needed to be Neifion. The cunning, the guile. Neifion had accepted his proposal for Virgil to become the next. He would force the man's hand. Move him like a pawn on a chessboard.
Yet a single decision from this pawn could turn him into a knight, to smite oppression. A rook, to be a bastion that holds back the tides of darkness, Perhaps he may even become a King, and surpass where he had failed.
What was important now was maintaining the balance.
Time was running short and Neifion knew he must act soon.
The balance must be kept.

The Warning. Hoard of the Dragon Queen -Rest period after Cyanwrath's Encounter *Spoilers*

Raan watched and listened at the doorway of what was once a kobold barracks in the winding tunnels of the Cults hideout.
Less than an hour before the company had squared off against Landrigosa, the Blue Half-Dragon that had duelled and defeated Kilvarax, the company's own Dragonkin warrior.
Although Landrigosa had acted honourably by allowing the hostages to go free once the duel was completed, Raan had sworn that he wouldn't allow something as trivial as honour to encumber the delivery of true justice.

He heard the tell tale scratching of Kil's clawed feet and the swish that his tail made as he pivoted. Then the clack, clack, clack as he approached. He controlled the urge to cringe at the noise it created, considering anything left in here likely knew their position.

In the dim light Raan gave him a nod to acknowledge his presence as Kil took up a flanking position on the other side of the door.
It seemed an eternity passed, neither of them looking at one another, maintaining their vigil for the sake of the camp.
"What you did," came Kil's guttural draconic voice, "was no small feat."
Raan looked briefly in surprise but for a moment.
"But  rob me of my vengeance again." Kil left the threat open.
Raan had thought about this conversation since the aftermath of the battle, anticipating such a confrontation.
It was in this moment that something else occurred to him.
"You're right. I acted hastily, and in doing so, took your chance for vengeance."
This caused Kil to offer a small sideways glance.
"I granted justice to all of those that devil would have maimed and killed in Greenest." Raan looked at him squarely. " The truest course of justice was to allow you the kill. To bare witness to the justice you would have wrought." He looked back to the doorway. "I won't make that mistake again."

Raan and Kilvarax finished the rest of the watch in silence.
Each respecting the other a little more than they'd ever let on.

Reassurance and Reward. - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

Raan closed the door to his room back at Nighthill's keep and immediately threw off his pack and cloak. He fumbled with the clasps on his breastplate as he suddenly felt as if it were a weight chrushing the air from his lungs.
With a final heave he flung it from him and as it clattered to the ground, so did he.
His undershirt was damp and it clung to him. Beads of sweat formed and ran down his face as he processed the events of the last few hours.

He took a deep, calming breath to steel his nerves and peeled the soaked garment off, feeling every muscle protest in doing so. Burns, cuts and bruises adorned his torso and arms. He and the band that had come together on the road to Greenest had endured so much in a short time.

Moving to his knees, Raan uncoupled his two swords and placed the longer blade out with in front of him to his right and the shorter to his left.
Finally he removed the pendant from around his neck. Placing it directly down in front of him.
He focused on it intently as he regulated his breathing. It's unblemished surface, the symbol of the hand holding a single coin, caught the  flickering light of the hearth. 
Soon the room fell away and there was only his swords, the coin and darkness as he slowly closed his eyes.
"My love." Came the ethereal whisper of his lost wife's voice. His eyes snapped open there standing before him in a field of grass stood his beloved. Adorned in a dress of royal blue, her favourite colour. It was decorated in the finest patterns and it clung to her slender frame. Her face was clear and full of colour. The Elven part of her heritage visable in the shape and clarity of her eyes, and the slight points of her ears peeking out from her flowing black hair that moved slightly in the breeze. A jeweled band of silver keeping it back from her face. In her hands, she held his sheathed sword against her breast.

He knew better to answer, as to risk breaking concentration was to risk losing this glorious vision.
"My love," she whispered again, "you are on a dangerous path. You honour your family with every life you save. The evil you extinguish makes the living world a better place."
The words washed over him like the suns rays breaking through a dark cloud.
He began to feel rejuvenated as the aches and pains of his last encounter ebbed away.
"But there is more danger ahead, Father."
Came the voice of his beloved daughter.
She appeared from behind her mother's skirts and moved to stand in front of Raan's smaller blade. "More people to help. More people that are in pain."
She was every bit her mother in appearance.  The same shaped eyes and face. She wore a simple dress, her hair in a plait. 

He watched her pick up the other sword that was bestowed upon him when Assuran had spared his life and gave him the choice.
"Let us both help you." Said his wife as she offered the hilt of the sword she carried.
"Father," came his little girls voice as she took a step forward, offering the other hilt. "Let me help too."
Raan reached out and grasped both hilts and in unison his family stepped backwards, keeping hold of the pair of swords and revealing their keen edges.
"Goodbye, Father."
"Go, my love."
They both spoke together as a blinding light struck Raan. He struggled to keep his eyes open not wanting to lose sight of his family.
He finally relented and looked away from the searing light to find himself back in his room within the keep, both blades now in his hands.
He stood up, completely renewed and healed. No marks of the battles upon him, no fatigue or aches, yet, something was different.
The two blades in his hands felt lighter than before. More of an extension in his hands than just two swords.
He made a small figure eight with the smaller of the swords that he had held in his left hand.
There was no clumsiness or feeling of being awkward or weaker. He put both the swords through a few simple drills and soon realised that he could use these weapons together, no weakness on one side or the other. He threw both blades up and caught them again in opposite hands without a hint of slowing down.
Faster and faster he spun the blades in unison until they were a humming blur of steel!
When he finally paused, he could not help but smile.
It was only then that he noticed the morning sun creep into the room from the open window. It was morning already? As his stomach growled the answer to his question.
He quickly strapped on his blades and donned a fresh shirt.
Before walking from the room he replaced any hint of happiness with his customary scowl. 

Appearances had to be maintained after all.

A Matter of Faith - Hoard of the Dragon Queen.

Raan shook the rain from his cloak as he passed through the stone archway to the temple of Torm. He felt a wave of warmth wash over him as he was greeted by the soothing glow of many torches that illuminated the walls.

Before him stood a modest hall. Perfectly carved and polished pews were arranged in a circle around a large hearth in the halls centre.

Raan eyed several robed attendants shuffling about, seemingly unaware of his entrance, save for one who approached him with hands out at his sides, palms visible. 
Young male, angled chin, eyes and nose covered by cowl. Elf, possibly half-breed. No weapons visible.

Although Raan had been instructed to attend this hall by Assuran himself, he still kept his guard up.
If it looks like a trap, it probably is, echoed the words of one of the chosen to train him.
The purpose of this event, seemed to be yet another training exercise.

"Your swords are not needed here," said a woman's voice. It sounded aged yet it resonated clearly across the hall, as if she were next to him.
Raan eyed a figure sitting opposite the large hearth in the centre of the room. Possibly the origin of the voice though he couldn't be sure.
"If it is all the same, I'll decide that, should the choice need to be made."

Raan saw the  figure across the hall shuffle. Her shoulders bobbed a few times. Possibly laughing?
A hand gestured for him to approach as the young robed male turned about and led him in further.

Eight lives visible. Secluded areas could house more. Circular room. No real defensive position.

As Raan walked closer he could now make out a woman's face. It was lined with many years of age. Long silver hair pulled back in a pony tail.
Her robes looked faded. Older and less ornate than the others in the room.
"Welcome, Raan. Chosen of Assuran. Sit, and be at ease."
Raan raised an eyebrow reflexively at this woman who seemed to know so much about him.
He sat down next to her in the same pew, moving his sword from his side to his lap with enough distance between them to seat another. 

"You have me at a disadvantage," he replied. "I do not know your name."
She turned her body towards him, sitting with hands resting in her lap.
"A name doesn't give me advantage for it is only a name, Raan." she mused. A quaint smile on her lips. Raan realised suddenly that her eyes were not dilated, that she wasn't actually looking at him, so much as though him.
"Oh yes," she nodded. "I am quite blind." Her lips and nose scrunched up a little and she raised her hand slightly, turning it from side to side. " In a physical sense, that is."
Her hand returned to her lap, as she leaned in closer to him.
"Some things I can see clearer than a blue spring sky," she whispered. as she patted him on the knee "Raan, Chosen of Assuran."
"I would appreciate some discretion towards my identity if its all the same to you." Raan whispered back quietly. 

" Oh you needn't be worried about, dear boy." She raised her hands and gestured here and there, motioning Raan to take a look about. "You're in a temple of Torm." She replied as if that was assurance enough.
After a moment of silence, she continued. "That means, Raan, Chosen of Assuran, that what we speak about here, remains here and for no one else but yourself, and myself."
She relaxed back into the pew, putting an arm on its back rest, tracing the intricate carvings with a finger. "It's as simple as that."
Raan huffed a small sigh, shaking his head dismissively.
She shifted her position back to her initial pose. Hands folded back in her lap.
"So," she began, " The hour is late. The temple is empty and peaceful, and Raan, Chosen of Assuran, enters this hall. What brings you here, Raan, Chosen of Assuran."
"It's just Raan, and-" He started to respond.
Her hand shot out open and hung there. "Good to meet you, Raan, I'm Milly."
Raan paused only for a moment, then shook her outstretched hand. She shook it vigorously, with quite a strong grip.
She moved back and motioned for him to continue. "Go on," she replied.

"I was sent here by Assuran. I received no other instructions other than that,"
Raan explained. "You seem to know more about this meeting than I."
A puzzled look crossed Milly's face, then suddenly, realisation. " Oh, the whole "I Know Everything About You," routine." Milly dismissed it with a gesture. One of His gifts to the devoted. I know the innermost truths of anyone who walks through that arch." She mused
"That's more Assuran's idea of fun isn't it? Irony, and poetic justice?"
Raan didn't know how to answer. This was the first time he'd actually spoken to anyone about his situation since the events of Greenest.

"Yes, it is a mandate of Assuran to administer true justice to those who would harm the innocent," he stated flatly. "The crime will imitate the punishment."

"That is exactly the same thing the last Paladin of Assuran said," she chuckled. "To the letter!"

Raan disagreed with the title of 'Paladin', but more pressing was the talk of another trained like him! "Another came here? How long ago did you see him?" 

"Her" Milly replied. 

"Her, then!" He snapped back. 

Milly shot him a Mother's glance of disapproval and Raan immediately knew his error. He stiffened his posture. 

"Please, tell me about her." He asked with a tone full of respect.

Milly nodded and smiled. "She was very much like you. A soul, drowning in grief, her life about to end far too soon." 
This sounds all too familiar, he thought.

"Assuran plucked her from certain doom and put a bit more of a spring in her mortal coil and set her on the path that you walk now." 

It couldn't be a coincidence that another like him had come here. Perhaps it was just more training? 

"What became of her?" He asked. She waved a finger from side to side in a mock disapproval.

"That is the end of the story, Raan, You're skipping ahead."

Raan sighed again. "Continue, please." He said and Milly seemed happy at his use of manners this time.
"When she came here, she too said that Assuran had told her to come. She didn't have swords though. She had a beautiful curved bow," She smiled fondly. " She sat right where you're sitting now and asked why she'd been sent also."

Raan waited now, the pause in sentences growing.
"Go on," Raan prompted.

Milly moved forward a little in the pew, closing the gap between her and Raan.
"Before we continue, Raan, who sent you here today?" 

"Assuran," he answered with a puzzled look on his face. "I told you that before."
"He sent you?" She pressed, "Assuran himself, spoke to you?"
"Yes, Milly." He answered again, trying not to become frustrated at this sudden line of obvious questioning.
"When did he ask you to come to this place?"
"Four nights ago," He continued. "Where is all this going, Milly?"
"Did you argue with him about reason or need to come this temple without a reason?"
Raan shrugged his shoulders, "Yes, He rarely sends me to any place with an explanation. It's always a trial to get any kind of straight answer from him!" Raan scoffed. "But that's gods I suppose."

"You suppose?" Milly asked, raising an eyebrow, nodding as if she had heard enough.
"She was here for two days before she got her truth." Milly said, "But she was a lot smarter than you are so I'm going to save you the time."
Milly looked over her shoulder towards an alcove at the back before Raan to answer her clear insult. "Kel," she called, "Kel, are you near?"
A middle aged man, older than Raan, but far younger looking than Milly shuffled from the alcove over to them.
He smiled nervously at Raan, his eyes darting from Raan's sword across his lap back to Milly.
"Yes, Milly. Can I help you?"
"Kel. Tell us how long you have been in the service of Torm, please."
Kel smiled funnily and Raan got the impression that Milly already knew the answer before it would be stated.
"I have been in devoted service to Torm for twenty two years of my life." He said humbly, head bowed at the mention of his deities name.
Milly looked back to Raan. "Kel here is one of our most devoted priests," she explained. "He is a gifted healer and provides an invaluable service to this province." Raan just eyed her, waiting for his chance to retort to the not forgotten insult.
Kel bowed at the kind words. "You honour me, Milly. Thank you."
Milly looked back at Kel. "Answer me one more question, please Kel." She asked. "When was the last time Torm spoke to you directly?"
The smile faded from his face. "You know that Torm has never spoken to me, Milly." He answered. Raan concealed his surprise as he saw Kel become saddened by this line of questioning. "I pray to him and through my faith, His will is carried out."
Millys face filled with compassion. "Of course, Kel." she replied, her voice full of empathy. "No one is denying your faith, or your gifted skills as a healer." These words placed a forced smile back on Kel's face.
"Thank you, Milly," he bowed and began to move away. "I'll take my leave now."

Milly smiled back at Kel and slowly looked back to Raan, her smile completely diminished by the time she faced him.
"You were sent here, Raan, as your predecessor was sent here, because you do not realise just how unique your situation is."
Raan said nothing back, still stunned by the revelation that Kel had provided.
"Gods don't speak to people every day." She started as Raan's usual cold scowl began to evaporate.
"These priests, devote their entire lives to Torm and his edicts." she motioned around the room at the others who were tending chores or in deep prayer. "Some go their entire lives in service to Torm without being endowed with the ability to cast a simple cantrip."  Raan could now see where this was headed and braced himself for what was to come.
"And you!" Milly stood up, finger poking Raan's shoulder repeatedly. Her voice suddenly raised "You cant even respect a god, who endows you with such incredible power! Who speaks directly to you!" She continued her assault. "How long have you been in his service, Raan? A year? Not even?"
Raan moved her finger from his shoulder and raised his hands in surrender.
"All right, Milly!" He shouted over her voice, "I hear you!" wanting this much deserved berating to cease.
She paused, her anger now changing to a visage of hurtful pent up grief and words left unsaid.
She paced away from him a few steps then turned, as if she was about to launch into another lecture. She bit her lip, once, twice then looked away once more, shoulders slumped.
After what seemed like an eternity of silence, save the crackling of the hearth, Milly turned back to face him.
"You need to stop fighting Him and start listening to him, Raan." She said, quietly. Raan only sat there and nodded.
"It is one thing to believe in a god," she began as she sat down next to him and put her hands in his. "But to have a god believe in you! That is quite the rarity."
Raan looked her in the eyes for a long moment, stood up and walked away from Milly.
"Before you go," She called after him. Raan stopped and cocked an ear over his shoulder. "Should you ever pass this way again, have the respect to leave your weapons at the door."
As Raan walked away and caught a glint of silver above the stone arch. There, flanked by two torches hung an ornate bow and quiver etched in all too familiar markings. He halted again.
"What was my predecessors name?" He asked, not taking his eyes from the bow.
"That is a question fit for the start of a story, Raan, Chosen of Assuran." She replied, "You should have asked it then."
Raan nodded and smiled as he pulled the cowl over his head and moved silently back into the night.