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.

Poker Face.

The newly formed hall in Virgil's sanctum stood empty before him, unlit and hollow. It's stonework, beautiful and unblemished, save the two dozen scorch marks on the back wall.

Sleeves rolled up, jacket and wide brimmed hat thrown unfavourably in a corner, Virgil readjusted Thorn's ornate holster to a new position before buckling it again. He hoped this new angle would allow Thorn to be easily drawn and brought to bare. He knew this new position left Thorn visible, presented to any that would stand before him. Gone now was any pretence for  discretion.

Virgil used his powers of Prestigitation and summoned two small floating illusory targets before closing his eyes, hand poised above Thorns ornate grip.
Muscles sprang as he opened his eyes and went for Thorn. His hand found the grip and he drew, loosing two bolts in rapid succession.
The first came close, finding the wall just to the side of the conjured target. The second struck the spot where the target has been, it already having faded from sight.
Not fast enough, Virgil. He heard the voice, his voice, in his mind.
Whoever is killing the other Shades is going to take you down like a lame dog.

He'd been at it for hours now, a combination of fatigue and frustration had hold of him. This new threat had him worried. Whomever this was had skill and experience that clearly surpassed his own. He felt this new fear trying to take root. His was no magical fear like he had faced with the dragon, no this was a fear that he hadn't felt since early his early adolescence. The fear of losing.
"No," he whispered to himself, attempting to dismiss the tangible fear around him. "No!"

A long moment later came a knock from his door that echoed into the stone hall.
A sudden realization that it must be late. He and Obcaeco were heading out tonight to see if they could shake loose any information of this  'Shade Killer' from the criminal element of Waterdeep.
He strode to the door as he smoothed down his sleeves and donned his coat and hat before using his magics to clean away the sweat and turn the fabrics to the blacks and greys of his alter ego. He paused at the door, took a steadying breath and allowed the mask of arrogance to settle back upon his face before swinging it open.
She stood there before him, in the outfit he had secretly fashioned for her. A vision of beauty and strength.
She smiled her tiny smile. The smile was his to see for no one else.

"Shall we?"

Tonight

Virgil noticed Obcaeco's strength looked to be returning. Whatever medicine had been provided to her seemed to be working.

There was no denying that something had been developing on an emotional level that put him in a state of unrest. This was something new, something foreign. Beyond a moment, this lingered and grew with a life of its own.

He thought back to the battle with the white dragon. The fear and excitement he had felt in that moment had suddenly frozen at the sight of Obcaeco being struck by the great beasts frigid blast. 

A feeling of loss so profound had struck him that he abandoned his own instincts of self preservation to get to her, to the point where some gift from Neifion manifested and allowed him to jump through planes of existence and appear next to her cold, near lifeless body.

His dexterous hands, always so stable now shook as he had tried to administer the healing fluid to her. The dark liquid splashed upon her lips and provided a false semblance of colour. He had watched as the fluid began its magical work. Her skin began to flush with healthy colour, returning to it's radiant pink hue, moving further from the pale white that the frost blast had inflicted upon her. A deep, gasping breath followed by several ragged coughs burst from her body as she had jolted near upright as Virgil clung on to her, thankful for the life that flooded back into her body.

The trip back to Waterdeep had only nurtured this new force within him now. Although it had been left unsaid between them, he felt a reciprocated bond growing. Lingering touches, he would be caught looking in her direction by her supernatural senses.

Lirra's family had arrived in Waterdeep a few days after their arrival. Virgil had never seen Lirra so vibrant and joyful. She bounced around like a child. Yet still, Obcaeco was not herself, more withdrawn than normal. That battle lust she'd exhibited had not resurfaced, withdrawn to a point that kept Virgil's attention fixed upon her.

Toasts were made, food was eaten and Virgil used all of his charm to make the night as palatable as possible. The joy on Lirra's face wasn't lost on him. He did his best to make it a good night for her, even as his mind wandered to things that he could do to help improve Obcaeco's mood.

It wasn't till the late hours of that night that he had a sudden epiphany. He would act upon his idea come morning. 

Obcaeco moved through the motions of the day. Her mind occupied, quite literally by an entity she didn't understand. She could detect with her senses that the others had already left. She heard no heartbeats within her companions rooms. 

Her senses guided her downstairs to the common room of the tavern where she detected Ulfgar seated at a nearby table. The favourable scents of freshly brewed coffee baked bread with cinnamon filled the room. 

"How ye feelin, Lass? Ulfgar asked as he rose from his chair and pulled the adjacent one out for her. 

"Better," she answered quietly, seating herself before delicately pulling apart one of the sweet smelling rolls set out on the table.

"This is Stedd's handiwork," she said after tasting a morsel of the soft bread. Ulfgar chuckled into his mug of spiced mead. 

"Aye it surely is," he replied after wiping a forearm over his mouth. "The boys got a talent!" He reached over and grabbed one of the rolls for himself and ate it in a much less delicate fashion than young monk had demonstrated. 

"Where are the others?" She askes between bites. Ulfgar looked around and motioned towards the door. "Young Lirra an' her kin are making preparations for their big fight." He began. "Virgil I had not seen leave, maybe he's still asleep?" 

"He's not." She added and Ulfgar knew better than to disagree. Her supernatural attunement to sound could be trusted. 

"If ye need me, Lass I'll be tendin to some work at the temple down the road." Ulfgsir said as he rose and wiped his mouth again with his forearm. She detected the faint rustle of fine fabric scented with  various oils as Ulfgar picked up his vestments and placed them over his clothes. 

His large calloused hand gently touched her shoulder as he passed. She acknowledged his gesture with a faint smile in his direction as he made his way out. 

She sat alone now at a table made to seat six. Just her and the voice within her head remained.

It wasn't until Midday that Virgil bustled through the door of the inn. The place now quite busy with the lunch time crowd. Despite the number of people in the room, Obcaeco detected his presence and she turned her head to his direction and he pointed upstairs, towards their rooms.

She stood and walked up the stairs, into his room, leaving the door open for him as he entered a moment later.
His heart beat faster, he was excited about something, she knew this just through his movements.

"I have the greatest idea for some fun!" He stated, unclasping the buckle on his bag of holding before producing a large flat box, placing it on the bed before Obcaeco.
"I got you a present!" He said, the excitement not leaving his voice.
She moved to the bed and opened the box.  Scents of lavender and jasmine greeted her as her hands moved the soft tissue paper to the side with a faint rustle. Her hands moved to the item below. Soft velvet and linen, embroidered with an all too familiar symbol of Tyr upon a stiffened collar.
A tunic, breeches sash and an extended cowl to cover her strange, beautiful eyes.

Another box was produced, this one Virgil opened himself and she smelled the soft leather within. Flat soled boots that extended to just below the knee. 

"What is this, Virgil?" She asked smiling.
"Well," he began, "I need to do some snooping around for some Neifion business and I want you to come with me, But you need to be -" He paused, "less identifiable."
A smirk crossed her lips and Virgil didn't know if he was in trouble or not.
"You bought me a disguise?" She asked with a derisive tone that told Virgil he may have assumed too much.
He paused. "Well, yes! Technically." He said, trying to recover. "I remembered all of your measurements from Baldur's Gate. "It is in the style you like, darker tones, I swear it's beautiful!
She couldn't keep her face straight any more and for the first time in weeks, she laughed. It was honest, mirthful and it healed her in unseen ways.

Virgil raised his eyebrows in complete surprise at this, before joining in at the spectacle of actually being duped by her ruse. It felt like a long time since he'd been on the receiving end of any kind of mind game. He basked in her laughter, feeling relief wash over him.

She laid the clothes out upon the bed taking note of its textures and lines. It was indeed beautiful.
"Turn your back, please Virgil." She said and it took a moment for him to realise why as she began to disrobe, Virgil's eyes shot downward and away respectfully as she trusted him to do.

The fabric slid over her slender athletic form, and it did indeed feel light and flexible. the leggings, tight but supple woven of a material she hadn't felt upon her skin before. She bound her chest with a length of material provided, supporting her female form. Black and silken cloth that she wound down her right arm and fastened it at the wrist. The tunic was next fastened together with similar silken ties, it was embroidered above the breast with the symbol of Tyr, she ran her hands over the symbol. It's familiarity of it enamouring her further to this these new garments. She felt the longer left sleeves lining as it slid along her arm, small pockets and a sheathe? small enough to hold a dart or small knife.
Oh yes, Virgil did indeed oversee the design of this.

Finally, the soft boots, slipped onto her delicate feet. She could feel the embossed patterns upon them, little swirling designs that wove in and out of one another.
They felt like a second skin to her feet, contouring to her soles and calves, allowing  full freedom of movement.

Lastly, a dark shawl placed over her head and rested across her shoulders, its cowl, longer than necessary, she appreciated that he knew her enough to know this was her desired style.

"It looks amazing, Obcaeco." Virgil said, pride and admiration in his voice. "How does it feel?"
She spun, a leg coming up in a whirling kick, before dropping down into a cat like stance, her hands a flurry of movement.
"This is lovely, Virgil," She said, a wry smirk at the side of her mouth. "Tonight then?"
"Tonight."

Child of The Sea

Cove stuffed her belongings into her backpack. Some salted meat and dried fruit were bundled in along with a other items she deemed necessary.

Lastly, Cove paused and looked to the polished oak table and the sole occupant upon it. 
A small, dirty, threadbare doll that was missing an eye looked back at her lovingly. She had an arm that had been mended several times and meticulously plaited black woollen hair. Her dress was blue, like Cove's skin and had a beautiful, albeit dirty pattern that reminded her of the ocean around it's hem.

This she placed in her pack last, carefully so as not to upset her.
The ridiculousness of this wasn't lost on Cove as she tucked her in, chuckling lovingly. She was 17 years old now and knew playing with dolls should be beyond her.
But Tilda was her oldest family member.

 She donned her fur lined leather coat and swung her laden pack onto her shoulders before opening the door to the small but comfortable cabin that was her home.
As she climbed the few steps on to the deck of The Osprey she was met with the entirety of her family waiting for her, standing to attention. Thirty two sea tested men and women that made up The Osprey's crew. She noted some of them were glassy eyed. Others were doing their best to smile bravely.

Two figures above all else caught her attention after the initial surprise faded and was replaced with near overwhelming love that she fought to contain, lest she weep openly.

Her Fathers. The Captains of the Osprey.

"Look at our girl, ready to leave us on the next leg of her voyage." The man to her left said said stepping forward, arms out in front as if presenting her to the crew. Denon's face wore the experience of thousands of days of seafaring. It was hard to say how old he was for his skin was like leather yet his vibrant and jovial nature eluded to a much younger man. His coat was pressed and it's buttons polished he wore his thick, auburn hair in a tail that was clasped in an ornate silvery loop. His smile was wide and Cove could feel the pride he felt for her. It was almost tangible, like a blanket she could wrap around herself that would keep her warm and safe.

Denon stood next to her, before her other father, Renyar, moved forward. He too wore his pressed jacket with a tricorn hat that covered his bald head.
"Such eagerness, yet so ill equipped!" He quipped in a loud voice, before standing to her right and faced the crew, "just like our dear Cove to rush into the thick of it." Reyner added, his smile beaming.

Cove looked up at the two men with such adoration in her heart that she could feel the tears welling almost to bursting.  As the crew laughed an all knowing laugh the tension broke and she felt her blue skin flush. She sheepishly joined them, laughing at the misadventures and trouble she had made for them over the years. Her eyes turned down as she blushed before Denon's voice brought the crew's attention back to him.
"Before we let you leave, you will stand before us all and be held accountable for your actions." Cove gulped nervously at these words as it was the same words used to discipline the crew when a grievance was brought to her fathers. She wasn't in trouble again? Was she?

Raynor, as if on queue added, "Who among you who wish to bring your words to bare, do so now."

Cove held her breath, not sure now of what was about to happen. Her fathers could hide their emotions well behind their commanding presence. 

"I will speak," came a voice from the crew, the accent thick and distinctive that Cove knew the voice belonged to Wilten, the ships Carpenter. He was an ox of a man. A powerful frame that housed the experience a skilled artisan. In his hands he carried a long  object, wrapped in sail canvass. 

"Wilten, attest now to Cove's actions." Denon commanded. Wilton nodded, not meeting Cove's eyes. Quiet settled over the crew. Even the lapping of the sea seemed to stop.

"I've seen my share of storms over the years and I've lost people to them." This last part he said with a tone of deference. "So on that night when I went over in that storm, I thought that was it for me." He paused a moment, sniffed again before looking up. 

"Then you were there," His voice quivered slightly as he fought to keep his emotions in check. His head tilted and she could see the smile behind his bushy salt and pepper beard. "Our little water sprite." 

Cove couldn't resist any longer. She dropped her pack to the deck and ran forward sobbing. Wilton took a knee as she approached and she kept into him, Wilton's bear like arm wrapped around her tightly. 

Raynor and Denon looked on smiling as the Crew burst into cheers. A moment passed Wilton gently moved Cove back a step, still keeping to a knee. 

"Cove was able to ferry my lumbering arse back to The Osprey. I have no doubt I'd be fish food if not for her." He stated loudly as he began to unwrap the long object. He spoke to Cove now, excitement in his words.

"After the damage we took a few months back on the topsail yard, I got the idea to make you something from the timbers,"  Wilton produced a beautifully carved and polished staff from the canvass wrap. "Ive seen you training with the mops and I asked your dads if I could make you this." He turned it in his hands and Cove saw that Wilton had planed it on six sides, and carved images of ospreys into the centre. Beautiful flowing patterns ran the length of the staff, each end capped in polished steel. He presented it to her and she gingerly accepted it. She could feel the carvings under her fingers. The polished wood felt familiar. 

Yes, this was most certainly a part of The Osprey. 

"You saved me, no doubt about it." Wilton added, "I'll always be in your debt, Little Sprite."

He stood and turned quickly, joining the crew again before they both potentially broke down again. "Thank you Wilt!" She shouted to the bear of a man. She watched as the crew around him patted him on the back roughly and ruffle his hair.

Cove took a few steps back as Raynor's voice asked again who would speak. 

A woman this time stepped forward, a woman with pale skin and flowing markings across her face, her hair swirled loosely of its own accord. Zephyn was an Air Genasi, the Ospreys Navigator and Cove's mentor in Martial Arts. 

"Zephyn, attest now to Cove's actions." Stated Denon. 

 Zephyn stood forward and pointed to Cove making a series of gestures with her hands that Cove understood and turned to her fathers. "I will speak her words." She said as Zephyn nodded her approval to her captains. 

Zephyn began, her hands moving intricately. And Cove began to speak.

"Cove came to us when she was but a child. Removed from a life that would have been one of horror for her. This life was known to me and I'll be forever grateful to our captains for their compassion."

Zephyn stopped briefly before bowing curtly to both captains with a hand on her heart before she began again. Cove continued to interpret. 

"In her time here she has been a beacon of light that has helped guide this ship. Her character and heart has touched us all. She is a fine student, sailor and above all she has a unblemished soul."

She could feel the tears welling again at Zephyn's words. She knew that her crew loved her, as she loved them. She didn't realise how her leaving might effect them. Her hands continued to weave.

"Cove, I've taught you how to navigate by the stars," Zephyn took a bag from her shoulder and handed it to her nodding for Cove to open it. 

She pulled the flap back and within she saw the all too familiar tools needed to navigate by the stars. Sextant, paper, charcoal and a map of the sword coast. 

For you, to navigate your way forward, then eventually, back to us. Zephyn signed to Cove. These words, Cove kept for herself. Zephyn bowed low and Cove, in turn did the same. As she had been instructed. A proper farewell between mentor and pupil. 

Cove took her gifts and returned you stand between her two fathers. She put her pack on, Denon giving it a look across and evening the weight across her shoulders. 

Denon nodded to Raynor, who drew the Sabre from his hip and held it aloft. Denon joined him and the crew parted in the middle, drawing their swords and making an arch. Behind them waited the Gangplank that lead into the Neverwinter docks. 

She turned around to her fathers who both looked down to her, smiling. Each so very proud of their girl. 

"Protect yourself," Raynor said in a lowered voice that was only for her. "And protect those who need it."

Denon smiled a very charming smile. "Find what you seek, then come tell us all about it." His voice encouraging and boyish.

She stretched an arm around the waists of her fathers and squeezed tightly. 

"I love you, Dads," she whispered as she felt both their hands around her completing the embrace. "Thank you for my life!"

"Farewell, Daughter." They both said in unison. 

She looked up them both, rising onto her tip toes to kiss each on the cheek, at this the crew cheered. 

She turned and strode intently though the raised swords, gazing at her family as she passed them, she captured their faces in her mind and took her first step onto the gangplank. A chant of "Cove! Cove! Cove!" Sprang up behind her. Turning, Cove took one final look back, taking in the last member of her family. The Osprey herself. Her home for the last thirteen years. 

With possession of the knowledge of her family and the memory of their love swelling within her, she disappeared into the crowd of the busy streets of Neverwinter.