The Night Blade (4th level)

"Religion is for fools," sneers Alab, "and has little to do with genuine faith. I frequent temples for the peace and quiet."

"And the religious can sometimes be mildly entertaining... when I can stomach them," adds the drow, with obvious disdain.

The central nave of this large circular temple is open to the sky above and adorned by five ancient statues of elf men and women—including a statue depicting the goddess of light—their faces and arms held up to the sky. An orb hangs in midair in the center of the open nave, glowing with scintillating colors. Rings of stone pews face a central fountain beneath the orb, which bubbles with warm water. A small circular house sits nearby, artfully decorated with symbols of the sun.

"You are one to speak of stomaching others, drow." An elf woman steps forward, eyes narrowed toward Alab. "What brings one of your dark kind to the Light?" She glances quickly at the others. "And why would any of you put up with this one's company?"

"What's to put up with?" Celia asks, raising an eyebrow. "The man can 'old 'emself in a fight, and 'e seems fine tah me. Either way, we're 'ere tah see if 'the Light' can 'elp our wounded," she says with a gesture towards Homalis and Tok'ra. "I 'ssume you 'ave a fee or somethin'? I'm not familiar with how you holy types work." Celia pulls out a small pouch and begins to dig around to count her gold.

Alab says nothing, merely looks down his nose at the elf, a half-smile on his pale lips, as if laughing at some inside joke. A barely-suppressed guffaw at the word "fee."

The corners of the elf's lips turn down in a frown. "The Light blesses all those who come with pure intent." She pointedly looks at Alab. "Let those who are injured and worthy step into the Light, and I, Elovyn Sorrowsong, will heal them."

"Thank you Sorrowsong, we do require healing." the half-elf states and they move towards the Light indicated, the tadpole dancing happily on Tok'ra's chest.
"Whatever kindness we receive here will be paid forward"

Elovyn gives Alab one more suspicious glare and then turns to Tok'ra. "As the Light shares its warmth with you, so too will you share it with others." The elf puts a hand on Tok'ra's wound.She looks up at the rest of the party, a measure of weariness in her eyes from the exertions of spellcasting. "Are there any others who wish to partake?"

Homalis steps forward, raising his hand.
Yes, me. I am sorry, I was a bit taken into the spell of the beauty of the... Temple... the Half Elf smiles a bit awkwardly and then presents his wound to the cleric.

The shoulder wound almost completely closes and the half-elf rolls their shoulder with satisfaction.
The tadpole smiles a toothy grin as it swims about the wound then down beyond where the skin of Tok'ra is exposed.

"We are not strangers with sharing..." says the half-elf's mouth with a nod of thanks from their head.

As the sorcerer backs out of the space he places a silver piece on one of the stone pews.

Alab does not wish to partake. The drow monk finds a shadowy spot to meditate, rededicating himself to his dark queen, Lolth.

Elovyn smiles. "Of course! It is a beautiful temple, is it not?" She murmurs a short prayer to the Light and heals some of Homalis' injury.The elf priestess humbly picks up the silver piece. "Donations are accepted, but I never charge for my services. In former days, many young men and women who could not make a living here in Whitesparrow fell to banditry under the flag of the Night Blades. Since those days, I make sure that no soul goes untreated for lack of payment."

Hearing the elf priestess talk of the bandits brings Tok'ra back into the sanctum.

"We are seeking out these Night Blades. They trifled with us on the road here earlier. Our quarry is actually THE Night Blade. Is there any other information you can give us to help in our hunt?" asks the half-elf with curiosity.

Elovyn sighs. "I've heard the rumors. Ten years ago, the Night Blades were trapped in a barn near the Lonely Torch. When angry villagers set the barn ablaze, only their leader made it out, with the rest of the trapped Night Blades dying in the fire." She shrugs her shoulders. "The man was imprisoned until just a few weeks ago, when the sheriff let him out."

A puzzled look creeps onto the half-elf's face...

"These Night Blades are a relatively new or at lease new life has been breathed into this issue, it seems. What we are most confused about is why this sheriff would release such a being into the wilds again... Where can this sheriff be found, priestess?" Tok'ra asks.

"Companions, should we find or question this 'law-man' before making our way beyond Whitesparrow? We see some sense in this course of action." Tok'ra says to their gathered warparty

Feeling refreshed, Homalis smiles at the priestess, thanking her with a nod and a silver piece of his own.
Listening to the conversation, he then answers his fellow sorcerer:Yes, that does sound like the right direction to go from here.

"Law woman, actually."

The group turns to see a rugged woman approaching the temple, weathered sword comfortable on her back. She gives Elovyn a friendly nod and then focuses on the party. "I heard some new folks had made it into town. Sheriff Willowmane. Good to meet you." She takes in the bloodied clothes and armor at a glance. "Had a run-in with some bandits?"

Though the sheriff's arrival piques Alab's interest, the drow continues to meditate (or pretends to) with eyes shut, and betrays no reaction further than a raised eyebrow and a cocked ear.

"Indeed we have Sheriff Willowmane. And this good priestess here has just informed us that the Night Blade was released from custody by you. This just begs us questions as to the reasoning behind that liberation." Tok'ra asks flatly to the new arrival.
The tadpole tattoo focuses on the sheriff as a dog might to a fetch toy.

"Aye, we bested 'em pretty quick but when we asked 'em about their boss they were roight scared of 'er. 'Im? Doesn't matter. You got any idea where this Noight Blade fellow is?" Celia looks the sheriff over, trying to figure out who's sword is bigger.

Willowmane raises a dark eyebrow. "Ralavaz served his sentence. I had no right to hold him after his ten years were up." An unhappy frown crosses her face. "But if he's returned to his wicked ways, he's got another thing coming. Did you meet him?"