Al and Erevain
Rolls
Kuldahar to Shilmista (very familiar) - (1d100)
(50) = 50
Shilmista to Waterdeep (seen casually) - (1d100)
(62) = 62
Waterdeep to Moonshae Isles (seen casually) - (1d100)
(7) = 7
Mishap! Roll again - (1d100)
(67) = 67
Moonshae Isles to Silverymoon (seen casually) - (1d100)
(57) = 57
Silverymoon to Targos (associated object) - (1d100)
(75) = 75
"Here we are!" she announces with a flourish toward the walls of the rugged town. Alalla is practiced at keeping her face smooth and unconcerned, a part of keeping herself calm and serene on the inside, but she knows that Erevain has become good at reading her concealed moods. She is anxious. Excited, but nervous also.
"My uncle's name is Ellis," she instructs him as they walk the snowy streets of the town. "He took us in after my mother was killed and my father was injured. He's basically a second parent." She knows she has told Erevain this before, but she can't help but repeat herself.
As they pass through the market, a man in the town militia uniform shouts out from the crowd. "Al! I didn't know you were back in town. Any chance you'll be signing on for the trade festival? We could use the extra hands."
"Afraid not, Marcus. Short visit. I'm still on a contract elsewhere." It was true. Kind of.
Marcus lets them go with wave and a curious look for the elf at Al's side, and Alalla and Erevain continue on their way. She knows the streets by heart and barely registers the sights, only acknowledging the few people that call out to welcome her back, ask her to deliver their greetings to her uncle, or ask when they get to bet on her in the arena.
Most also have interested looks for Erevain as the Ten Towns don't see many elves, but Al is on a mission. She answers their calls with only a few words, and moves too quickly for them to draw her into conversation.
At last they arrive at her uncle's home in the shop district. The bottom floor is his small but steady woodworking shop, with large windows displaying pieces available for sale as well as sample works.
"This is it," Al says. Why she is so nervous, she has no idea. She knows they will all get along well. They must. "The store and the workshop are on the ground floor, and the living quarters are upstairs. We should be able to see my uncle Ellis before we go upstairs to see my father. Are you ready?"
Alalla takes a quick breath of the chilly air. "Here we go." She opens the door, causing a little bell above her head to sound, and steps into the warm shop.
"My apologies, sir," Ellis reaches out to shake Erevain's hand. "Ellis Cort, at your service. Let me take your coat and make you comfortable. Alalla, who is your friend?" His eyes flick to Erevain's ears and back to his niece. "The man you spoke of in your letter, perhaps?"
"He is, in fact," she says with a grimace at her uncle's teasing face, trying to remember how she had worded her tale about the ignorantly love-sick elf. "A lot has changed since Easthaven. This is Erevain, Uncle. He's actually the reason we're here." A slight pause and deep breath as she takes Erevain's hand. "We are recently married, you see."
He turns his head to his niece, then takes in the two of them together. "Alalla Cort. What have you done?" Ellis says wonderingly, rubbing his beard.
"Welcome to the family, Erevain. I look forward to getting know you!" Ellis walks to the store door, practically giggling, and flips over the sign in the door so that it reads 'closed.' "Let me wrap some things up here while you two go talk to my brother, then I'll get cooking and we can talk over lunch." He winks at Erevain. "Don't let Simeon intimidate you. He's a softie, for all he looks frightening."
Ellis takes Alalla's head in his hands and gives her a quick kiss on the forehead. "Congratulations," he murmurs, then claps Erevain on the shoulder once more before sweeping back into his woodworking shop.