Al and Erevain

"That takes some background information," Alalla begins. "My mother's tribe was wiped out during some kind of conflict between another tribe. She thought she was the last survivor. She also thought that there were humans aggravating the conflict. She said that they sold her and her tribe out to the other, and that it if weren't for them they would still be alive."

Al takes a section of Erevain's hair between her fingers and begins braiding idly. "Mama saw Gruumsh and his pantheon for what they were after that, and she didn't really have family or friends to miss, but life in the Dale is hard when you're alone. Especially as an Orcish woman. She was bitter and angry about the pain they caused her." Al lets the braid fall loose with a sigh.

"Papa and I were away when it happened. We had gone to trade with the closest village, and Mama had stayed home, for obvious reasons. We had to piece together what had happened to her, though we are confident about our conclusions.

Somehow Mama came across a group of adventurers near our property. She recognized them as the ones who had caused her tribe so much trouble. She might have tracked them for a while, or leapt from where she stood, but either way she attacked in a rage, screaming about vengeance." A heavy pause.

"She was no match for a group of seasoned warriors. Mama lost her life, and they gained a story to bandy about the tavern."

Erevain sighs and strokes her hair. "Life is not easy even for those who do not face the challenges of racism or the abuse of those who wield greater power. I am sorry for what happened to your mother."

He remains silent for a time, but Alalla understands that he is forming his thoughts and will speak when ready. Eventually, the words come. "Alalla. Sharuhk. What more can we try to save your soul? I would prefer not to rely upon Poquelin's help. Are there any faiths that interest you? Our best hope is likely a benevolent and generous deity."

Alalla sighs. "I don't blame them. They were defending themselves. I'm sure they or ones they knew have been victims to orcs.

Orcs are a terror and threat to the people of the Dale. They pillage and ruin and destroy. But they are victims too, since they can do little else under Gruumsh's thumb.

I blame him for Mama's death. She knew what he was and instilled in me my opinions of him before experience told me they were truth. Even so, his rage swallowed her- swallowed us- and all she could do was obey his battle call and leave our family behind."

Alalla bites the inside of her lip as she thinks. "Maybe a god will see my human half beyond my orc one, but if I can I'd like to make my path somewhere Keggruk can follow, if he's even alive out there." Al hesitates. "Also, any children of ours will be more elf than anything, but I worry Gruumsh will hunt them, too. I want to know that deity won't make an exception just for me." She thinks on that for a moment.

"Maybe... What do you think my chances are with Avandra? You know the deities better than me- I never bothered to learn- but isn't she the goddess of freedom? She might take pity on a race of slaves."

Erevain nuzzles her hair. "If there is a way, we will find it." He pauses thoughtfully, and then Alalla can feel him smile. "Avandra? A halfling goddess? Perhaps. Freedom, travel, fortune... She seems as good a one as any." Another pause. "We can visit a temple of hers before we return to Kuldahar."

"That's a good idea. We need to be getting back soon, though. I wish we could stay in Silverymoon or somewhere, but I can't leave things unfinished."

Erevain nods. "No, I agree. You are the leader, and your friends need you. Still, we should have a look in the morning. This is the Ten Towns, home for those seeking what they cannot find elsewhere. It seems like a place that might have a small temple or shrine to a goddess of the road. Perhaps we will find one here in town."

Alalla rolls her eyes. "Leader. Elected only to prove to Nessa that she wasn't in charge. I thought that nonsense would end when we returned to town. Apparently not." She sighs and stands. "But they need me, and I wont shirk."

Al walks to her wardrobe and gets some things for the two of the them to wear to bed. Stars, but the Targos militia will laugh at her when they see her new spouse. Alalla Cort, classless and blunt militia woman who plays a blood-mad orc in the arena, with an elf for a husband. An elf four inches and tens of pounds her lesser, who can wear her nightgowns. She smiles as she returns to the bed.

"Going begging around various temples does not sound like fun. I'm glad you'll be there with me, sharuhk," she murmurs, relishing the feel of those Orcish words. Yes, the militia will laugh, and the townspeople gawk, but she doesn't care. There isn't another man like Erevain in all the world, and she likes him just as he is.

Alalla kisses him. It only helps that he is gorgeous.

Erevain smiles and kisses her in return. "Always."

Alalla leads Erevain through the streets of Targos, pointing out familiar faces and places every so often. As far as towns in Icewind Dale go, it's fairly large, with several districts. Somewhere between the homes and businesses, nearer to one of the gates out of the city, they find a small temple dedicated to Avandra.

And it is closed. A worn, painted sign hung on the front door reads:

WORSHIPPING WITH MY FEET

Erevain shrugs and knocks on the door anyway, but there is no answer. He steps back and looks at the sign once more. "I do not see any indication of when they might return... It would not surprise me if whoever tends this shrine is gone for weeks at a time." He chuckles, but Alalla can hear the disappointment creep into his voice.

Just as the couple begins to turn away, a halfling woman approaches. She is dressed for the cold, aside from her bare feet. Tufts of frozen hair stick up from the tops of her oversized feet, but she doesn't seem to mind the ice and snow.

She greets the two with a warm, cherubic smile. "Well, hello there! Sorry, I was just out for a morning prayer. Please, come inside and let me know what I can do for you! Or what you can do for yourselves. 'Fortune favors the bold', after all!" She unlocks the door and hustles them inside. The small temple is lit with an oil lamp, the smell of which mixes oddly with the boots, cloaks, and bags hung on every inch of wall.

After taking a moment to unfog her spectacles, she reaches up high to shake their hands. "Reise Coppersky, at your service! Who might you be? Aside from being obviously in love, I mean to say!"

Alalla's shake is firm and precise. "My name is Alalla, and this is my husband, Erevain Blacksheaf."

What does she say next? Im hoping Avandra will wrest my soul from the clutches of a tyrant.

"I'm... trying my hand at religion."

"So you're saying you married the Blacksheaf of the family!" A twinkle in Reise's eye precedes her joke. "Well, isn't that marvelous? Trying your hand at religion... 'Change is inevitable, but it takes the work of the faithful to ensure that change is for the better.' Why, it sounds like this change will be for the good of you both!" She claps her little hands for joy. "Way to seize your destiny and direct it in the way you choose!"

She pulls out a few worn chairs and settles down in the smallest one. "So! What changes are you looking to make in your life? And how can Avandra guide the way?"

Alalla's laugh is genuine, but Erevain can hear the slight strain of anxiety in her voice. "I did though, didn't I?"

Alalla blinks as the halfling continues. The ideas she relates resonate with Alalla, her own views being very similar.

I hadn't expected that.

"I want just that: to seize my own destiny. I've fought to be the person I wanted to be my whole life, but my own abilities aren't enough. I need help." A pause. "A deity's help."

Erevain sits quietly, one hand on Alalla's knee. He watches the halfling woman closely, as though waiting desperately for something specific.

Reise nods. "Yes, we all want to become better. Avandra is always ready to guide her children to better paths." She notes Erevain's stare and clears her throat. "Yes! So. With what specifically would you like help?"

Alalla breathes deeply, willing the constricting grip of fear away from her throat.

Enough dancing.

"I am half orc," she states bluntly. "I have seen evidence beyond doubt that Gruumsh owns my soul, despite my efforts to shun him. Avandra is the goddess of freedom, right? I hoped perhaps she could help me with mine." Alalla hesitates. Just get it over with. "And any others of orc blood that wish it."

The halfling is leaning forward eagerly when Alalla speaks, then nearly falls out of her little seat. Her eyes pop further out of her head with each pronouncement. "Half orc... G-Gruumsh?" She swallows. "I... I admit I was not expecting that."

Seeing the discomfort in Alalla's and Erevain's faces, Reise leans back in her chair and closes her eyes. Her breathing slows after a moment, and then she opens her eyes to look the couple over again. "Avandra is a goddess of freedom. And I am sure she sympathizes with your plight! As do I. But... what are you expecting her to do for you?"

"I don't know what Avandra requires of her followers, or the power she has, but I was hoping that, if she can, she could be convinced to save my soul."

You sound like an idiot.

Yeah, well, that's what the price is these days.

Alalla meets Reise's eyes. "I don't want to go to Gruumsh's hell. I want to shake his claim on me. Nothing I have done has mattered. I need help."

Reise holds her hands out in front of her in a helpless gesture. "It is not as though Avandra can - or would - challenge Gruumsh to a duel and win your soul. Her way is not so direct. And she cannot purchase what is not for sale."

She sighs. "Sometimes, all that Avandra can offer is strength to keep walking. However long your road to freedom, from whatever source it comes, all Avandra can do is help you stay the course. Your feet must be the ones that take the steps." She bites her lip. "As for other orcs... I believe in change. I do. But on such a grand scale, it would be like moving the Spine of the World with a spoon. And aside from the orcs' capacity for change, they would face bitter resentment if not outright hostility from the other races..."

The halfling sits, unsure what else to say.