Salvation Outpost - Chapter 2

Zodor snaps his fingers in recollection, "Yes! The ruby teardrop!", he catches the volume of his voice and lowers it, "The prospector took only a few gold for it. Poor guy had no idea. Yes, I still have it. I keep it and a few other rare items in Vathirond, for safe keeping. It might not look it, but this town isn’t the safest place for valuables.", he says with a wink. "I can collect it tomorrow."

"Tell you what, give me the ten gold I gave that gentleman and we’ll call it even.", he stops for a moment, "The twenty silver for the lightning rail would be appreciated too."

Sheriff easily matches SheK for strength. He’s also surprisingly nimble on his feet. Despite the size difference, he somehow makes it work. Once off the table and on the floor, the two of you put on an amazing display of dancing. Many others take up partners and join in.

As the night wears on, the dancing and party spills into the streets. Sheriff eventually has to excuse himself and restore a bit of order, (but not too much).

The darkness of the night begins to turn the faintest of deep blue as the last of the partiers make their way home.

Empty kegs, mugs, flagons and bottles are strewn throughout the Grey Beyond and in the the street outside. Roszana snores loudly on the stoop of her tavern. The orc waiter, whose name Vice learned is Ghuk, but everyone calls him Guy, covers the halfling barmaid with a blanket. Belaluur is asleep on a bench inside, her daughter Garundah beside her, just as unconscious. Sheriff sits on a chair in front of the jailhouse, watching Main Street. As the sun breaks, he’s lit by a brilliant orange glow. Those that see him, swear they could see a smile.

Somewhere in the Blood Hall, Peldan wakes with splitting headache.

Mother Jahanah sits, knelt in prayer at the Temple of the Silver Flame. She doesn’t look up or turn around as Armat enters. "This had better not become a habit.", she says coolly. As the Paladin lays Peldan down next to the shrine, he notices the cleric has not even opened her eyes.

"You served during the last war.", she repeats Armat’s words from much earlier this evening. She stands up, nodding an end to a prayer and finally opens her eyes to look at the Red Knight.

"I see your friend tried to get his hands dirty.", she pauses for a moment, "Good."

She lowers herself to lay her hands on the little halfing cook. Healing energy flows into Peldan, reversing the injuries. The pain still stabs at Peldan’s head. The images flash incessantly.

She stands back up. "He’s alright."

She paces around Armat, "Noble, Ser Armat ir’Vallam, Knight of the Blood of Vol. Still, playing with the undead?", she stops to look at him.

" My apologies, Knight of Karrnath.", she replies calmly. "Live and let exist. If that hall was its home, it was not my place to decide if it deserved to be excised. Judging by the number that hadn’t returned, it was capable of defending its domain. That was its right. It never bothered anyone here, why should I bother it there? It was there first, after all."

"Perhaps if the citizens of Karrnath experienced loss, rather than treating their dead as marionettes, they would have suffered as the rest of us.", she says through her teeth. It’s the first time Armat seems to have gotten a rise out or the Mother.

She composes herself quickly, but stays eyes locked in her stare down with Armat, as she acknowledges Peldan, "You are most welcome, my dear Soft Hands. Keep it up and you may just get your first callous."