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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 205363" data-attributes="member: 143">Book IV, Part 26Gaera felt herself being dragged slowly back into consciousness.  Her first thought was one of reluctance, that the peace of death was being denied her.  She could not resist the pull, however, and so she opened her eyes.  She saw the sky, and realized that she was lying prone.  Her arms were still splayed out behind her, but she was no longer bound to the beam.  With an effort she managed to turn her head to the side, to see a gnome looking down at her.  He was clad in a brightly colored green tunic mostly covered by a thick winter cloak, and as she watched he tucked a wand back into an inner pocket.  “How do you feel?” he asked her.  “I…” she said, uncertain of what to say.  Then she saw the gnome’s companion, standing beside and behind him—the dwarf warrior she’d seen before.  Close up, she could see that there was something strange about him, his skin a dusky gray and textured like uncut stone.  On a whim she tried to rise, and to her surprise found that she could, albeit with difficulty.  She looked at the gnome and his dwarf companion, and at their surroundings.  They were still in the canyon, a short distance from the mine opening where she’d been hanging.  She could smell the hot stench of death in the air, the familiar odor bringing back with crashing intensity memory of all that had happened.  Her head dropped, sagging not due to physical weakness but rather with the heavy weight of despair.“What is it?” the gnome asked softly. “You should have left me there,” she said.  “You should have left me to die.”“That doesn’t sound like anything I’ve ever heard a dwarf say,” the gnome replied.  “You do not know the depths of my failures.”  She sagged back, suddenly feeling very old, very tired.  It was hard to believe that young Rangor had approached her, sought to woo her!—only a year before.  Before the ogres had come.  Before everything had changed.  The gnome looked up at his dwarf friend.  “Get Dana.  Her constitution has suffered—my healing cannot help her any further.” The dwarf nodded, and started off.  Gaera felt a little better at his absence, less confronted by her shame.  Shaking off some of her lethargy, she looked up at the gnome again.  “You healed me?” she asked.  He nodded.“You are a cleric, then?”“No, a bard, actually.  I’ve found that wands of healing come in really handy, though.”She looked around.  “Where is the ghour?”“Excuse me?”“The ghour—we call it ‘the Beast’…”“The demon.  We drove it off, but it took one of our company with it.  We will be seeing it again, I think.”The gnome’s tone was sad, but fixed with a determination that caused Gaera to reevaluate him and her current situation.  She realized that she’d let herself sink into self-pity; understandable given what had happened, but inexcusable now.  “Where are the others?”“The prisoners?  My companions are gathering them up.  We can’t stay here long.”“No…  Help me up, please.”The gnome did so, and Gaera found that she could stand, if unsteadily.  “My name is Gaera Silverheart.  I am a cleric of Berronar Truesilver.”“Balander Calloran—my friends call me ‘Cal’.”“Thank you, Cal, for rescuing me.”They both looked up as the dwarf returned in the company of a young human woman.  Gaera instantly perceived the deep sorrow that hung over her, evident in the way she carried her body and the deep hollows under her eyes.  Instinctively she reached out for her, stumbling slightly as he legs gave out from under her.  Cal caught her, and supported her as the young woman approached.  “Gaera, this is Dana, a cleric of Selûne.  Dana, Gaera is a cleric of Berronar Truesilver.”Dana nodded absently, and Gaera could see that the hurt she had suffered went deep.  To Cal, Dana said, “When are we leaving?” “As soon as we can get all of the prisoners together.  Lok says that there is a back way he knows of to Caer Dulthain, and a place where the captives should be safe until…”He trailed off, and Gaera realized that they intended to confront the demon once again, to face the ghour in its lair.  “What’s the matter?” Cal asked with concern, noting the tear that flowed down the dwarf cleric’s face.  “It’s nothing,” Gaera said.  “Nothing but the restoration of hope to a soul that had forgotten its promise.”  She directed the last words at Dana, and for a moment the two women shared a look between them, a look that spoke of deep inner hurts.  Dana broke the connection, but she closed her eyes and opened her heart to the power of her goddess, reaching out to touch Gaera and pass restorative power into her.  When it was done, Gaera straightened, and drew a deep breath.  While she had not been fully restored, some of the vigor had returned to her, enough so that she felt she could move and act.  She would need to, now, she realized.  It was time to change roles, from a supporter to a leader.  “How many prisoners are there in the mines?” Cal was asking.  Although the question wasn’t directed at her, she answered it anyway. “There are not many of us left,” she said.  “Perhaps thirty dwarves, although few are warriors, and all have been weakened through long suffering.”  Though not as weak as they might have been, Gaera thought, thanks to her own covert efforts.  She’d let Rogath down, but she knew that her people would give a good accounting of themselves.  “There are also a handful of others—several human merchants, a man of the Uthgardt, even a few humanoids that are not allies of the orcs or ogres,” she went on.  “Some may be able to fight, if given the chance.”   “What can you tell us about the demon?” Cal asked. Gaera looked over the gnome’s shoulder to see the others approaching—the two archers she’d watched during the earlier battle, and a rag-tag collection of dwarves, humans, and the other captives of the ogres.  Free, for the moment.  An hour before, she might have allowed herself to think blackly on that, to find only despair in their chances, but no longer.  Free for the moment would be enough.She turned back to the gnome.  “I’ll tell you on the way.”</blockquote>

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