As soon as Mary's blanket falls to the floor, Meira kneels down to pick it up. She's right there as Mary herself crumples to the ground. She simply takes the blanket and wraps it around the woman's shoulders.

For a moment, she gives Lyra the briefest of glances, then focuses back on the grieving woman. "I can hardly imagine what you must be feeling. It's only right you weep for Frederic right now."

She stays near Mary, and a million jokes flash through her head. But even she knows it's not the time. Again she glances towards the halfling. Surely a Cleric would be trained to deal with the grieving, right? Though she always thought more of Lyra being her accomplice for tricks and pranks. 

Finally, she speaks softly to Mary. "Perhaps we should get you in out of the cold. It's a bit brisk here at the door." 

Noticing her hand still clinched in a fist about the letter, she adds, "And maybe we can hold on to that note for now? You may wish to see what it contains another time."

Lyra felt a knot twist in her stomach as she watched Mary's face change—warm friendliness turning first to shock, then to raw grief. The sight struck her harder than she expected, clinging tight to her chest and cutting deeper than the white dragon's claws had. She'd known of loss before, of course—life and death were part of every cleric's faith—but she had never felt it that deeply before.

For a moment, the cleric could only stand there, frozen, watching Meira gently wrap the blanket around the sobbing woman. What do I do? she asked herself, even as she felt her goddess' presence settle around her like a soft breeze. She murmured a quiet "Yes" to Meira's suggestion and took the taller grieving woman's hand, guiding her gently inside.

Almost without thinking, Lyra closed the door with a whispered word. Spotting a few unlit candles, she murmured the same word to make them flicker to life—hoping their warm glow might ease Mary's sobbing, even a little. She led her to a chair and then she simply stayed close, holding the woman's hand and listening in silence.

Lyra shared more than one glance with Meira during those moments. Both knew there was little they could do, and that no words would lessen the pain. Grief took its own time, and would walk unseen beside Mary for a long while, just as Tymora walked beside Lyra. That thought brought the cleric a bit of clarity. If she could help Mary feel—even faintly—that she was not alone, perhaps that would help?

So, she prayed softly, asking the Lady of Fortune to let a trace of her light flow through her hand towards Mary. "You are not alone in your grieving, Mary," she said gently, still uncertain that her words would help ... but trying to do so despite everything. "Please, Lean on your family and friends in the days ahead. Do you know Sister Garaele? She guards the Shrine of Luck here in Phandalin. I'm sure she would welcome you with open arms if you wish to spend some time with her."

"And… know that Frederic rests with his brothers by bond,  in a graveyard close to the mine. Torrin and the others made sure of it. He gave his life to save them, to buy time so they could survive until help arrived. They were humbled by his sacrifice and spoke highly of him. I wish he'd never had to make it… but your husband's courage saved their lives."

She paused, then added softly, "When you feel ready, perhaps you’d like to visit his grave? Perhaps even read the letter he left for you then?"

After that, Lyra said no more, afraid to overwhelm Mary. With Meira's help, she prepared some tea and stayed until Mary seemed calmer. 

Before returning to the inn, Lyra stopped by the Shrine of Luck to find Sister Garaele. She spoke of Mary and Frederic, asking if the priestess might visit the widow now and then—to offer what comfort she could.

"Will you stay with me tonight? I just…can you hold me, please?"

If Meira agrees, when they retire to sleep, the halfling will curl up against her, her small form trembling as she sobbed softly for a moment—until, at last, she drifted into a quiet, exhausted sleep.

With Lyra's help, Meira gets Mary settled into her house. As the pair sit in silence with the woman, she catches the occasional glance from Lyra. Her face is a mix of emotions, often unreadable, but sometimes showing a hint of sadness or fear. She adds her words of agreement when the cleric praises Frederic's sacrifice. And when visiting the grave is mentioned, she says, "Perhaps if we are available, we could accompany you there." 

Before leaving, Meira placed the crumpled letter she had retrieved from Mary's fist on the mantle of the hearth. Left there for whenever Mary might be ready to see what was inside. 

She accompanied Lyra to the Shrine of Luck to see Sister Garaele. When the halfling mentions having the priestess visit, she suggests, "Maybe we should let Qeline know of Frederic's death as well. It seemed like she was a friend of Mary's."  

As the pair head back to the Stonehill Inn, Meira quietly asks, "Where are you from Lyra? I mean, was there some place where you studied to be a cleric? Do you have family there?" There's a hesitance as she asks and a hint of worry. And of course, it's not long before they reach the inn. To Lyra, it is a bit of an odd change as Meira's more somber and thoughtful mood changes almost instantly as they step inside. A light smile comes to her face, and she seems no longer fazed by the events of the last few hours. 

'There is an inn, a merry old inn
beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
One night to drink his fill.

The Man in the Moon was drinking deep,
and the cat began to wail;
A dish and a spoon on the table danced,
The cow in the garden madly pranced,
and the little dog chased his tail.

The Man in the Moon took another mug,
and then rolled beneath his chair;
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale,
Till in the sky the stars were pale,
and dawn was in the air.

Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat;
'The white horses of the Moon,
They neigh and champ their silver bits;
But their master's been and drowned his wits,
and the Sun'll be rising soon!'

They rolled the Man slowly up the hill
and bundled him into the Moon,
While the horses galloped up in rear,
And the cow came capering like a deer,
and a dish ran up with a spoon.

The round Moon rolled behind the hill,
as the Sun raised up her head.
She hardly believed her fiery eyes:
For though it was day, to her surprise
they all went back to bed!'

"Umm, of course. Whatever you wish." There's a barely contained nervousness in Meira as the two retire. As Lyra curls up against her, she puts an arm gently around her, leaning in to kiss her softly on the forehead. She recognizes when the halfling soon drifts off, but sleep does not come quite as quickly for her. For a while she just gazes at the person beside her, until finally the exhaustion of the day takes over her as well. 

You have no reason to doubt the validity of the old sailors tail. However, you do recognize the man is already deep in his cups. You suspect he's retelling the tail to be the center of attention if only for a brief moment. 

As far as Old Gnawbone is concerned. You've heard the name before and remember reading the dragon's real name is Claugiyliamatar who is at least two centuries old. Rumors suggest the dragon has a huge treasure horde and is protected by a cabal of druids in addition to the dragon herself. 

Back at the Miner's Exchange, Halia smiles as you begin to tell her your tail and beckons you into a more private back room of the Exchange. She tells you she's happy to have a fellow Zhent working in the area so long as your aspirations don't cross her own. She then tells you, “As the Triboar Trail runs east, it passes through the ruins of Conyberry, a town sacked by barbarians years ago. There’s a ruined temple south of Conyberry where it’s said the locals hid their gold.” She continues by saying the gold was never found and suggested the search could prove quite lucrative for them both if it were returned to her.

During your talk, two people enter the room wearing leather armor and cloaks. One has a bow and quiver slung over a shoulder and the other has several daggers sheathed on his belt. Both have their hoods pulled over their heads as they approach Halia. Halia smiles as they enter and bids them welcome. One of them whispers into her ear, to which she nods as if approving something and both individuals depart again. Your conversation turns to the dragon sightings. She tells you she's aware of the green dragon living in Kryptgarden Forest but is surprised to hear the old dragon left her lair. Something compelling must have drawn her out though she can't begin to speculate what that might be. She ends with welcoming you to Phandalin and looks forward to working with you. 

You stay for a while with Mary as the woman grieves. Comforting her just by your presence. Mary tells you she doesn't know Sister Garaele but agrees to seek her out when she's ready. As you tell her of Frederic's bravery she stops crying and says, "That sounds like my Frederic, always putting others before himself. Thank you for coming here to tell me. I would love to visit the mine sometime and Frederic's grave, but I'm not ready yet." She tells you that she'll be fine and will need some time to figure out what to do now. She hugs each of you before you depart and thanks you once more.

You both stop by the Shrine of Luck looking for Sister Garaele, but find the shine empty. You head back to the Inn, keeping an eye out for the Sister or Qeline, but see neither. Before the night is over, Sister Garaele shows up as promised... Lyra tells the Sister about Mary and Frederic and the Garaele agrees to check in on the widow in the morning. 

As soon as you drift off to sleep...

You dream about your ship crashing against the rocks and breaking apart. You fall into the water with your wife, Silvara, a beautiful Sea Elf. While sinking into the ocean, you see the ship's crew being carried off by several merrow. One such monster attacks you. Before you lose consciousness, you see Silvara throw a trident at the monster, killing it. 

In your dream, you wake up on the beach alone amongst the rubble of your ship that was torn apart, and several dead bodies you recognize as some of the ship's crew. As you lift your head, you see a trident lying next to you, your wife's trident. The trident that she used to save your life. You grab the trident. Gripping it tightly, you rush to your feet only to feel faint and fall back to the ground. A moment passes as your head spins. You look around... your wife nowhere to be seen. You look up and see dark clouds swirling above you unnaturally. The focal point is a nearby lighthouse.

Suddenly, you find yourself at the top of the lighthouse looking into the eyes of Silvara. She looks into your eyes and smiles. You touch her cheek, as you do her pale skin turns translucent and her smile fades. You are now looking at your wife as if she were a banshee. She says to you, "Why didn't you come? Why didn't you save me?" She moves forward and yells at you, "Why didn't you come!?!" You take a step backwards as her visage frightens you. When you do, you fall off the top of a lighthouse. You continue to fall an impossible distance as the top of the lighthouse shrinks from view. Above it a swirling vortex of cloud cover. 

Before you hit the ground, you startle awake in a cold sweat. The common room to the Inn is empty save for the old sailor in a chair next to you snoring loudly. You look out a window, It's still dark. The fire burns low in the hearth.