Story I: The Rift

Callie struts across the room and toward the staircase, leading Ameera up top to a locked door. From one of her pants pockets she draws a single, metal key and turns it in the door, with an audible click! As she opens it up, Ameera can see that within is a large array of crates and chests; bags and loose items. The room itself is more of an attic, most of the space taken up by canted, wooden beams, rafters and sturdy supports. A thin layer of dust coats some of the items toward the back of the room. Many of these sealed items are labeled by quick, scratchy charcoal markings. The heat of the building does not seem to reach this place, and it is noticeably colder. She moves toward one of the crates near the door, its top already pried open. "Here they are," she says, standing on her tip-toes to pull out a bundled climber's kit, pitons, and harnesses, bound by a length of rope. She pulls out all five, handing two to Ameera. "We can just put these in the cages for when you leave," she announces cheerily. She does seem to wait for Ameera to leave first, three of the heavy items filling her arms.

-----The tome that Pyrrah draws out is thick and heavy, with a hinged, iron spine and leather coverings. The edges of the book are weathered, and some of the pages appear to be unreadable due to fading or other damage.

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Father Morgan smiles softly at the bowing ranger. He gestures a holy rite over his brow and gently lays a palm over his head, whispering, "Aelish." The term has been around as long as the gods have, by all account, and though it has accumulated many meanings over the years, it is most often used as a gesture of encouragement and and offering of hope. The belief that all is as the Pantheon has planned it to be has been named after it, and its believers are referred to as "Aelists." Morgan relinquishes the broom to his disciple, knowing that Devanis would have it no other way, and he moves to rest his back against the wall. He buries each hand in the opposite sleeve of his robe, watching the broom slide repeatedly across the floor.

"Fear is good," he says quietly, sounding just as tired as he looks. "You will go despite it, of course, because good men like yourself do not let fear stop them from doing what makes them good." He frowns, the lines in his face deepening, his eyes closing slightly, "Those men and women taken that day... I can only hope that they saw a quick end, and now rest behind Morro's guard, in the light and warmth of the Sunfather."

"But our world is rarely so kind, Devanis," Morgan opens his eyes, "It can often be difficult and harsh. More often than not, it is unfair and cruel. This tests us. It tempers us." He comes off of the wall, bare feet shuffling along the stone floor, "Only the faithless serve evil even after death, Devanis. Gods forbid that you might be killed, but should this fate befall you, you'll next open your eyes to the face of Vitr; I've no doubt about that."

"I don't know what you might find, son, but I do know that this expedition needs you, and that regardless of your feelings, you'll do what needs to be done."

"Oh, no, it's okay. I'll come back up and lock it," Callie says, managing to get the three kits into her arms. It's fairly certain that she's just being polite, but she follows Ameera out and down the stairs. The two head into the Cages, depositing the items to be retrieved before the expedition, whenever that may be. "Whew, thanks," Callie says, placing her hands on her hips. "So... how are you liking Bracklewhyte, so far?""

Callie laughs, nodding her head, "I keep busy with work. Many do." She then locks up the cage with the climbing kits and hands the key to Ameera, "Here, take that. You can open it up for your team before you leave."

As she steps out of the room and into the main entrance, she continues, "The country is beautiful. The mountain could keep you occupied for years and you'd still manage to get lost on it. Honestly, if you enjoy exploration, it's a wonderful place to start out from. Not everyone here does that, of course. Mostly people here will sleep, work, then drink."

"What do you do, where you're from?"

"Khunburgh..." Callie ponders, "I've been to a lot of places, but never there."

She smiles at Ameera's macabre humor, "We all do what we must. I have the utmost faith in you and your team. I think you'll accomplish great things." She walks across the entryway and marches up the stairs. As she does, she calls down from above, "What sort of things do you do for fun, then? Maybe they could be done here. I don't get out much, though, so I'm not the best to spontaneously come up with good ideas for activities." Callie can be heard locking the door before descending down the stairs once again.

Callie listens intently to Ameera before replying, "I don't do much cards, really. I'm afraid I don't recognize any of those." She shuffles past the girl and heads toward her office, though she does not enter, "Perhaps you can teach me when you come back. Might be an easy way for you to make some coin."

The halfling doesn't seem to take note of Ameera's lie. A liar not even half as good as Ameera might be able to get one by Callie, simply due to her willingness to give the benefit of the doubt. At the mention of the study, Callie brightens, "There are some good pieces in there. Mostly things for study, though. But if you're looking to learn about the area, there's a lot there. If you're looking for a good tale, I could let you borrow some of my books."

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The crowd seems unwelcoming of new performances, and for the first several songs that Baric plays, only a few have their attention held by his expertise. Garrett soon returns to his work, midway into the first song, though Mialee continues watching throughout.

It isn't until the songs have died down, when most of the patrons have returned to their conversations and carousing, and the bard's story begins, that he starts to draw everyone back. Even Baric could say that it was perhaps the best performance of that tale that he has ever given, and the reactions of the crowd certainly show it. There are a few that weep, but all appear as saddened by the tragedy as Baric could hope. Not halfway through does the the bar's background noise die down and all are silent, waiting for the next verse and the next after that. Garrett even ceases his work, not that anyone is ordering drinks at this time, and Mialee even wipes at her eyes.

There is a lot in this tale that the town of Bracklewhyte can relate to.

By the end of it, the tips have begun to flow from their pockets, and Baric accumulates a satisfying three gold in loose copper and silver coins. The crowd does not cheer, and they do not applaud, but by their faces the Dwarf has earned their respect as a songster and storyteller.