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Lazybones's Keep on the Shadowfell/Thunderspire Labyrinth
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 4463453" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 31</p><p></p><p></p><p>The mood in the common room of Wrafton’s Inn was far more subdued than it had been during their last visit, Jaron thought. Since their return from the kobold lair yesterday, word had spread about their adventures, and the people of Winterhaven were nervous. Apparently Devrem had not felt the need to moderate his comments about the dire nature of the threat, as Jaron heard the cleric’s name mentioned several times as he made his way through the knots of people gathered around the tables in the inn. </p><p></p><p>He finally made his way to the booth in the back of the room, set into the deep niche between the door to the kitchen and the thick side wall of the inn. Mara and Elevaren were already there, and to his surprise, so was Beetle. His cousin looked up and flashed him a grin as he came up to the booth. </p><p></p><p>Mara and Elevaren were apparently in the middle of an argument, and didn’t notice him at first. </p><p></p><p>“I’m saying that this is a fool’s errand,” Mara was saying. “How do we know we can trust this priest, anyway? The followers of the Death Queen have a sinister reputation.”</p><p></p><p>“I do not sense any duplicity in him,” Elevaren replied. “And in any case, you cannot deny that we would all be dead, had it not been for his intervention.”</p><p></p><p>“Intervention that we could have used <em>before</em> we set out, if you ask me. If he’d told us what he knew...”</p><p></p><p>“We did not tell anyone of our interest in the bandits, only that we were seeking out our missing friend,” Elevaren persisted. “Hello, Jaron,” he added, turning to greet the halfling. Mara looked at him with a sour look, as if blaming him for the course of the argument. </p><p></p><p>“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting.”</p><p></p><p>“No, please, join us,” the eladrin said. “What we’re talking about concerns you and your cousin, after all.”</p><p></p><p>“Do you mean the threat to the vale that Devrem spoke of?” Jaron asked, taking the empty seat next to Mara. The fighter shifted to make more room, but only slightly. </p><p></p><p>Elevaren’s look was canny. “Yes, that too.” Jaron looked at Beetle, wondering how much his cousin had told them. He’d mentioned his brother, but only briefly, before. </p><p></p><p>Mara was more blunt. “Are you going to go with the black priest, when he goes to this ‘Keep on the Shadowfell’?” </p><p></p><p>Jaron looked at Beetle, but his cousin had dropped below the level of the table. He hoped that his cousin was above pickpocketing from their friends. Or maybe it would be better for them if he did, and was caught. “I don’t know,” he said. </p><p></p><p>“Well, that’s where we are as well,” Mara said, turning back toward Elevaren. </p><p></p><p>Not sure what to say to that, Jaron changed the subject. “Oh, I see you got a bow.”</p><p></p><p>Mara glanced at the unstrung longbow propped up against the far wall of the booth. “Yes. The priest at least was forthcoming with the gold. He gave up claim to his share, in exchange for the dwarven mail he took. Though I suspect that was probably worth more than all the gold in that chest.”</p><p></p><p>“He earned it fairly,” Elevaren said. </p><p></p><p>“What about you?” Mara asked. “Did you fare well with your new wealth?”</p><p></p><p>“I bought a few things. New gear to replace that I lost on the way here, mostly.” He didn’t add that he’d finally tracked down Callen, and given him a sack full of gold to help him replace his wagon. The merchant had been considerably grateful, and promised to take a letter back to Fairhollow with him when he left Winterhaven.</p><p></p><p>“Mara gave me some new knives,” Beetle said, jumping back up into view, hanging onto the lip of the table and dangling out over the edge. Jaron looked at her in surprise. </p><p></p><p>“Yeah, well, you seem to keep wanting to throw the one you had,” the fighter said. “Only a fool goes into a fight without a hold-out.”</p><p></p><p>“He’s here,” Elevaren said, nodding slightly toward the door. </p><p></p><p>The companions looked up to see Devrem crossing the room toward them. Beetle slid smoothly back into his seat. The priest had no difficulty getting through the crowd; a path opened up before him as though by magic. The light of the lamps gleamed on the small silver clasp that held his cloak, forming the outline of a raven’s head. </p><p></p><p>“Good day to you,” the priest said. </p><p></p><p>“Hey, Devrem!” Beetle said. “You wanna see me juggle three knives?”</p><p></p><p>“Perhaps later, little one,” the cleric said. “I have come to tell you that I plan on setting out on the morrow.”</p><p></p><p>“Alone?” Mara asked.</p><p></p><p>The cleric’s jaw tightened. “If need be.”</p><p></p><p>“Then Lord Padraig refused your request for aid?”</p><p></p><p>Devrem shrugged. “He is but a small man; he does not see the larger picture. He was happy to hear of the defeat of the bandits; to him the immediate threat is the only one that matters. I hope that he does not have to learn the consequences of his error the hard way.”</p><p></p><p>“Winterhaven has limited resources,” Elevaren said. “It could be that Lord Padraig understands the threat, but must plan for all eventualities.”</p><p></p><p>“A diplomatic way of putting it. But if this Kalarel is as close as he suggested in his letter to opening a rift to the Shadowfell, he must be stopped, whatever the cost.” </p><p></p><p>“You seem intent on selling your life cheaply,” Mara said. </p><p></p><p>“Death comes to us all. As mortals, we can only choose how we die.”</p><p></p><p>“Perhaps I am not quite so eager,” Mara said. </p><p></p><p>“As I said before, we must all choose for ourselves,” Devrem said. A hint of anger crossed his features, and he started to turn away. “I will go with you,” Jaron said, quietly. </p><p></p><p>The cleric turned back. “Your aid will be most welcome, ranger.”</p><p></p><p>“Me too!” Beetle said. </p><p></p><p>“Beetle, no,” Jaron began, but the younger halfling stood up, leaning over the table. “I go too! I choose how we die, like he say!” </p><p></p><p>Devrem had the grace to look a bit abashed. “I will leave you to take counsel,” he said. “I will be at the gate at sunrise. Bring supplies for a journey of a few days.” Without a further farewell, he turned and left.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 4463453, member: 143"] Chapter 31 The mood in the common room of Wrafton’s Inn was far more subdued than it had been during their last visit, Jaron thought. Since their return from the kobold lair yesterday, word had spread about their adventures, and the people of Winterhaven were nervous. Apparently Devrem had not felt the need to moderate his comments about the dire nature of the threat, as Jaron heard the cleric’s name mentioned several times as he made his way through the knots of people gathered around the tables in the inn. He finally made his way to the booth in the back of the room, set into the deep niche between the door to the kitchen and the thick side wall of the inn. Mara and Elevaren were already there, and to his surprise, so was Beetle. His cousin looked up and flashed him a grin as he came up to the booth. Mara and Elevaren were apparently in the middle of an argument, and didn’t notice him at first. “I’m saying that this is a fool’s errand,” Mara was saying. “How do we know we can trust this priest, anyway? The followers of the Death Queen have a sinister reputation.” “I do not sense any duplicity in him,” Elevaren replied. “And in any case, you cannot deny that we would all be dead, had it not been for his intervention.” “Intervention that we could have used [i]before[/i] we set out, if you ask me. If he’d told us what he knew...” “We did not tell anyone of our interest in the bandits, only that we were seeking out our missing friend,” Elevaren persisted. “Hello, Jaron,” he added, turning to greet the halfling. Mara looked at him with a sour look, as if blaming him for the course of the argument. “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting.” “No, please, join us,” the eladrin said. “What we’re talking about concerns you and your cousin, after all.” “Do you mean the threat to the vale that Devrem spoke of?” Jaron asked, taking the empty seat next to Mara. The fighter shifted to make more room, but only slightly. Elevaren’s look was canny. “Yes, that too.” Jaron looked at Beetle, wondering how much his cousin had told them. He’d mentioned his brother, but only briefly, before. Mara was more blunt. “Are you going to go with the black priest, when he goes to this ‘Keep on the Shadowfell’?” Jaron looked at Beetle, but his cousin had dropped below the level of the table. He hoped that his cousin was above pickpocketing from their friends. Or maybe it would be better for them if he did, and was caught. “I don’t know,” he said. “Well, that’s where we are as well,” Mara said, turning back toward Elevaren. Not sure what to say to that, Jaron changed the subject. “Oh, I see you got a bow.” Mara glanced at the unstrung longbow propped up against the far wall of the booth. “Yes. The priest at least was forthcoming with the gold. He gave up claim to his share, in exchange for the dwarven mail he took. Though I suspect that was probably worth more than all the gold in that chest.” “He earned it fairly,” Elevaren said. “What about you?” Mara asked. “Did you fare well with your new wealth?” “I bought a few things. New gear to replace that I lost on the way here, mostly.” He didn’t add that he’d finally tracked down Callen, and given him a sack full of gold to help him replace his wagon. The merchant had been considerably grateful, and promised to take a letter back to Fairhollow with him when he left Winterhaven. “Mara gave me some new knives,” Beetle said, jumping back up into view, hanging onto the lip of the table and dangling out over the edge. Jaron looked at her in surprise. “Yeah, well, you seem to keep wanting to throw the one you had,” the fighter said. “Only a fool goes into a fight without a hold-out.” “He’s here,” Elevaren said, nodding slightly toward the door. The companions looked up to see Devrem crossing the room toward them. Beetle slid smoothly back into his seat. The priest had no difficulty getting through the crowd; a path opened up before him as though by magic. The light of the lamps gleamed on the small silver clasp that held his cloak, forming the outline of a raven’s head. “Good day to you,” the priest said. “Hey, Devrem!” Beetle said. “You wanna see me juggle three knives?” “Perhaps later, little one,” the cleric said. “I have come to tell you that I plan on setting out on the morrow.” “Alone?” Mara asked. The cleric’s jaw tightened. “If need be.” “Then Lord Padraig refused your request for aid?” Devrem shrugged. “He is but a small man; he does not see the larger picture. He was happy to hear of the defeat of the bandits; to him the immediate threat is the only one that matters. I hope that he does not have to learn the consequences of his error the hard way.” “Winterhaven has limited resources,” Elevaren said. “It could be that Lord Padraig understands the threat, but must plan for all eventualities.” “A diplomatic way of putting it. But if this Kalarel is as close as he suggested in his letter to opening a rift to the Shadowfell, he must be stopped, whatever the cost.” “You seem intent on selling your life cheaply,” Mara said. “Death comes to us all. As mortals, we can only choose how we die.” “Perhaps I am not quite so eager,” Mara said. “As I said before, we must all choose for ourselves,” Devrem said. A hint of anger crossed his features, and he started to turn away. “I will go with you,” Jaron said, quietly. The cleric turned back. “Your aid will be most welcome, ranger.” “Me too!” Beetle said. “Beetle, no,” Jaron began, but the younger halfling stood up, leaning over the table. “I go too! I choose how we die, like he say!” Devrem had the grace to look a bit abashed. “I will leave you to take counsel,” he said. “I will be at the gate at sunrise. Bring supplies for a journey of a few days.” Without a further farewell, he turned and left. [/QUOTE]
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