Carrhae gently takes her by the hand. "I'm Carrhae and these our my friends. We're here to get you back home safe. I'm sorry that you had to wait so long." And as she apologizes, she rifles through her things and hands her some rations as she leads Deseyna and the other freed prisoners out of the temple.

Standing up, Mercy dusted herself off, then crouched to fix the ties of her boot which had somehow come loose and tripped her. She pulled a couple of her remaining rations from her bag of holding and broke them up to divide among the prisoners. "For strength."

Once they've managed to get the prisoners out of the temple, Carrhae will lead the party back to the spot where they buried the body of the dead knight. "We're just going to make a quick stop at Summit Hill to deposit the body of my comrade so that he may be buried with the honor that he deserves. He's waited long enough." Along the way, Carrhae will ask Zephyr to cast Gentle Repose on the body as many times as they need to during the journey. When the party arrives at Summit Hall, Carrhae informs the knights about where they found the body and what happened to it. "I apologize. They never would've desecrated his body if I was able to find it faster. But rest assured that the bastards who did this will suffer." I usually don't swear. Perhaps I'm picking it up from Mercy. Carrhae will make sure that the Knights of Samular will provide the prisoners with the food and medical treatment that they need to regain their strength and offer the lodgings of her comrades if they need a place to stay. If they decline, they'll go with the party when they return to Waterdeep.

Upon returning to Waterdeep, Carrhae briefly leaves the others to let her superiors know that she has returned the body to Summit Hill and also share the same information that she shared with the Knights of Samular. She'll also sell the ring that she got from the commander. And then Carrhae purchases a flower and a piece of chocolate for each of her friends. "I almost forgot that today is a holy day for Sunites, but since I remembered, I just thought that I'd purchase these small tokens of affection for each of you. May Sune bless each of you and allow you to find beauty wherever you go."

When Carrhae handed them each a flower and a bit of chocolate, Mercy couldn't help but blush softly. She only paused long enough to thank her friend before popping the bit of chocolate in her mouth, letting it melt on her tongue. She pulled out a small religious tome from her bag and carefully pressed the flower between its pages.

Zephyr was glad that they had managed to get out of the temple with no issues, successfully saving another delegate and some extra poor souls in the process. In the small time frame the changeling had while the others dispersed to their respective factions, Zephyr wasted no time in visiting a particular friend who had enjoyed their company and paid them well for it. When Zephyr met back up with their favorite group of girls, thanking Carrhae for being an absolute sweetheart and being quick to plop that sweet delicious chocolate into their mouth and place the flower behind their ear, they rummaged in their bag to pull out some coin purses and handed them out to each one of them.

"Two thousand for each of you!" She smiles cheerfully. "Don't spend it all at one place!"

After thanking Zephyr for their generosity, Carrhae heads down to the part of Waterdeep that the mages and enchanters call home. She searches for the most powerful out of all the enchanters. "Good afternoon. I am on a rather dangerous mission with my friends and I will need some items crafted so that I can maximize my ability to provide them aid. First, I will require an item that will boost my vitality." Carrhae says, remembering how the bulette took her to the brink of death and how she doesn't want to die now that she has friends who need her and a possible lover. "Second, I will need a weapon forged, one that can burn my enemies. Something that'll give them a small taste of Hell." Carrhae is told to come back the next morning and that her things will be ready then. After depositing the vast majority of her gold, she heads off to re-join her friends and go to sleep at the end of the day. The next morning, Carrhae returns to meet the mage, who gives her a choker with a heart on it and a fiery blade. 

"The choker is an Amulet of Health that will double your ability to absorb punishment and resist death. Usually I don't make them as chokers, but I thought that it would look cute on you like this. The blade is a Flame Tongue Longsword. It will sear the flesh of your enemies when you strike them and it can also light up a room. Thank you for your patronage and woe betide anyone who tries to cop a feel on you without permission!" Carrhae smiles and thanks the mage before going off to spend what's left of her money on makeup products.

Mercy took her gold and slipped into the shadows, seeking out the dark corners of the city where Black Market buyers and sellers did their trade. These were people she felt no qualms about cheating out of their coin. She wore her Amulet of Mask proudly and used the magic gifts she'd learned in his service to trick and betray the criminals into selling to her at a discount. It hurt her heart a bit to trade off Dark Magic, but having stolen the weapon to begin with, she told herself that she was losing nothing as she purchased two enchanted hand crossbows and a chain mail shirt that she only later realized was Mithral. On a whim, as she returned to the more respectable part of town, she stopped by a tailor's shop to upgrade her clothing. She insisted that the style be simple, but she splurged on a black silk blouse and soft leather breeches. The Mithral chain mail fit comfortably between her new shirt and her old armor. Upon leaving the shop, she realized she'd blown through the entire sum Zephyr had given her. That was the problem with money. Having so little of it her entire life, she had a perpetual list of items that she wanted, which always fell below food and lodgings in priority. So, when she got coin, she spent it quickly.

Shaking her head, Mercy walked aimlessly until the sound of bells caught her ear. Surprised how attuned she'd become to the sound, the Tiefling turned to see Strife passing on the other side of the road. On a whim, she turned to follow her.

Stealth: 18

Shortly after returning back to town, Daewen was off getting her nails done when a portal appeared on the wall next to where she was sitting, and an arm popped out and violently drug her into the portal.  The Raven Queen was wanting an update!  So Daewen consulted her notes and told her all about her new adventuring friends, including all the arm lopping gory details.  The Queen was quite pleased!  When she got to the story of the various elemental cults and cultists, though, the Queen was quite displeased and spared no bounds of her anger.  Verbally abusing Daewen, and reprimanding her for not sowing chaos amongst the cults, the Queen quickly remanded her back to the prime material plane to spread pandemonium and bedlam.

Asking for and granted a day of reprieve, Daewen quickly visited with her old friends in the Shadowfell city of Gloomwrought, and purchased a few items with her newfound wealth (Amulet of Health, Cloak of the Bat), and then of course visited a tattoo shop and got a tattoo of a tiefling that covered her entire back!

Returning back to the prime material plane after a day, she caught up with momma Strife and showed off her new tattoo.

Carrhae suddenly feels a pang of guilt while she's waiting for her friends. Gods, how could I have forgotten? And on Sune's holy day, of all days. Carrhae rushes to get some flowers before heading to the temple of Sune in Waterdeep. She goes behind the temple to a little grove that has a graveyard and walks towards one of the graves.

 "Hello, Mei. It's been a while since the last time I visited you and I'm sorry that I forgot to visit you yesterday. But, I got Camellias. I know that they were your favorites. I met these new friends a few weeks ago. I've been traveling with them and having fun and I guess that's why I forgot about you. You'd love them. We've been dealing with these cultists and it's pretty dangerous, but I'd imagine that you picked up on that when I almost crossed over to the other side. I hope that you don't miss me too much and that you're asking Sune to keep me safe. The woman who saved me, I'm uh, I'm in love with her. She's beautiful and kind and even if she doesn't believe it, she's brave. I still love you and I miss you every day, but...I'm lonely down here. It's been over a year." 

A tear starts to fall down Carrhae's face.

 "I hope that you aren't upset with me for giving my heart to someone else." 

She sets the flowers down and stands there in silence for moments that turn into minutes and then hours.

Upon their return to Waterdeep and dispersal, Strife immediately headed off to meet her dealer. She tried to find "Goodfoot" at his usual haunt, The Tacking Dinghy Inn by the docks, but discovered that not only was he not there, he had checked out days ago. After two full hours of searching the most likely places, nobody had seen him since nor knew where he might have vanished to. The thought of being unable to resupply her Bloom Nocturne was deeply distressing.

She decided other Zhentarim would likely be able to aid her in locating the missing herb broker, and she could update Augusto at the same time, for whatever good that might do. She headed over to the Zhentarim office. Even at a distance of a couple blocks, she could tell something was off. There was none of the usual foot traffic in and out of the main entrance. Zero. But why? Had they moved to a new location during Strife's absence?

Strife's mind began to imagine wild catastrophic scenarios. Maybe the cults had infiltrated the Zhentarim! Though highly distracted, she was already reconsidering the wisdom of approaching the building when a frantic whisper from an adjacent alley broke in upon her consciousness.

"Infrakta!" The unexpected utterance of Strife's true name set her heart racing, and her head snapped to the side to identify the speaker, but there was nobody there. "Pssst, down here!" There was no creature present other than an ordinary city pigeon, but when Strife looked at it, it yanked its head to beckon Strife to follow, and it took a few steps further into the passage, its head bobbing characteristically with each step, and it ducked behind a barrel.

Strife approached until she saw its head peeking out. "Stop. That's far enough," it cautioned.

"How dare you speak my name out in public that way! I'm going to take this over your head a file a formal protest, and if you say it again, I will resort to a cruder yet more immediate resolution."

"I said 'Strife' a half dozen times, but you took no notice! You are far too ungrateful towards my generous self considering I just saved your life - for the moment, at least."

"What are you talking about?"

"The Zhentarim. They split. You poke your head in that office, you will probably wish you were dead, assuming they don't just kill you outright."

"Me? What did I do?!"

"Nothing. Your boss, that guy Norvic - he stirred up a hornet's nest. Messed with some people he shouldn't have, from what I hear. Most of your group has fled town, and the rest are in hiding. I think you only made it this far because you're new to Waterdeep and are not recognized as one of theirs. Well, almost, apart from just that one, I think."

"One what?"

"You don't know?"

"No! Would you hurry up with the explanations? You know I have been away."

"You just don't have any tradecraft at all, do you? Then again, this one's pretty good. Got some decent creep to 'em."

"No, I still don't know what you're talking about. I'm a glorified librarian out of my depth. There, are you happy now?"

"I need you to not turn around. Just keep looking at me, okay? Now, across the street, on the opposite far corner, there's an assassin who is stalking you."

"WHAT?!" Strife started to rotate her head to look back, terrified, but the bird immediately interceded.

"No, no! Look here! Don't let them know that you know! Yes, that's right, just keep looking this way. Stay calm, don't panic."

"Well it's too late - I'm panicking, definitely! What do they look like?"

"Oh, very nice indeed. I'd do her, for sure."

"It's a woman?"

"Yep. Young, too. Looks like she just spent her advance on some nice new clothes. She's one of yours, in fact."

"Zhentarim?"

"No! Tiefling!"

As if having her own personal assassin were not astounding enough, this news stunned Strife. Waterdeep was a very big city, and she had no sense of just how many of her race might be present, but it already seemed extraordinary to have met Trini and Mercy. This presented a serious complication for Strife, as she not only had no wish to harm a fellow Tiefling, she wanted to befriend her would be killer.

"I might need to use a lot of magic - right now. Am I good?"

"Give me one second," and the bird stepped back behind the barrel. "Let's see here... A couple of performances, a dash of inspiration, and... nothing. That's it? What are you, on a diet or something?"

"It doesn't matter! I'm good for whatever, right?"

The pigeon craned it's neck to gaze around the side of the barrel once more. "Yeah, sure. Knock yourself out. But be careful. There's a whole lot of anti-Zhentarim people in the immediate vicinity just now, so if you start a fight, you'll be even worse than friendless."

"Can you help me?"

"Beyond the already amazing feat of identifying your stalker for you?"

"Yes!"

"Not... really. I mean, I could maybe poop on her nice new clothes. Alas, my great love for you is less than my aversion to poisoned crossbow bolts."

"Poison?!"

"Well, I assume. An assassin can't say they even tried, otherwise, don't you think?"

"I guess so. I'm not real up on being assassinated."

"Right. I see that."

"I don't want to fight her, I just want to get way. But I'm not familiar with Waterdeep. Is there somewhere nearby you can recommend I flee to?"

"This isn't exactly the most neighborly and hospitable part of Waterdeep. What did you have in mind?"

"Anything!"

The pigeon paused for a moment to consider. "Well, there's a building a block away that the Zhentarim used to keep as a kind of safe house. It was rumored to have a tunnel connecting it to some other location. But of course they're gone now, and-"

"Fine, where is it? Which building?"

"If you get away, then you have to promise we'll do it."

"What?! You're a pigeon!"

"Okay, then provided I get a compatible form."

"Still no! Bigdy is not going to be very happy if I wind up dying just because you have issues."

"Yeah, true. Alright, just one huge kiss then."

"Fine, whatever! Now which building?"

"If you head southeast, look for the one with red shutters. If you don't look back, you might be able to set up your own ambush inside there, but if she sees your current expression, she will know you are on to her. Good luck! Just keep in mind-"

"If I don't make it, find Carrhae and tell her I love her."

"Okay, I don't know who that is, but you obviously need to pay extra for that service, and- wait! That building: They rent it out now, so there might be-"

Strife didn't catch the rest of it, having set out with a purposeful gait in a southeasterly direction.

So many witnesses are here, so please don't kill me. I won't turn around in fear, but please don't kill me.

With her thoughts on Carrhae and all that might have been, Strife found her mind playing tricks on her, for up ahead, she imagined she saw Carrhae exit the building with the red shutters and disappear around the corner. Impossible, and in any case, Carrhae's hair was blond, not red.

Strife ascended the three stairs to the landing and went in through the unlocked front door. She winced as she heard the swinging door sound bells and chimes, announcing her presence, and from behind one of the ground floor interior doors, a female voice called out in response, "Be right there, sugar."

Anticipating the assassin might burst through the door at any moment, Strife cast Greater Invisibility upon herself, drew her blades, and backed away some from the doorway, hoping to avoid detection.

An upstairs door opened and a half dressed man burst out, and one look at the seemingly empty foyer prompted him to exclaim "****!" before he reversed course and headed right back whence he came, the syllables of some spell already falling from his lips. Strife clearly recognized the man. It was Augusto Norvic.

From behind the door where she had welcomed the visitor, an attractive middle aged lady emerged, but her confusion at finding nobody to greet caused her to approach warily. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

Strife struggled to collate the facts. An assassin is coming to kill me. I have taken refuge in what may be a brothel. And perhaps I have just somehow accidentally served up my boss to his powerful enemies. Now what? She tried to Message Augusto, but it didn't work, suggesting he had already managed to extricate himself. The woman, believing the prospective patron had lost courage, retired once more to her room.

Strife, feeling trapped, alone, and frightened, waited for something to happen. What if the assassin's appearance as a Tiefling were merely a disguise? What if her stalker could change form at will, like Zephyr? She couldn't really know whether the next person to pass through the door was a legitimate customer or a bounty hunter. Thinking of Zephyr made Strife recall that time at the bathhouse when they had taken on Carrhae's appearance but with red hair. Could the person she saw departing have actually been Zephyr? That made no obvious sense to Strife. What if the assassin was at that moment gathering a force to surround the house? Strife would have to hope she managed to locate the rumored tunnel.

After some hours, the other Sunites grew concerned about their sister, who had been out standing vigil for a number of hours. One of the younger clerics was sent out to retrieve her. The nervous young man walked out to the grove and approached her from behind. "H-Hello, Miss Carrhae, Lady Carrhae? The others were beginning to grow concerned about you, being out here for hours and it was beginning to grow dark. The space we normally reserve for pilgrims is unoccupied at this moment, so you could stay there for the night if you need it."

"You don't need to give me the titles. I am merely a servant of Sune, the same as you. I also have lodgings of my own, but have I really been here all day?" And the others didn't come for me. I suppose that they wouldn't, considering that they don't know that I'd be here.

"Oh, okay. I'll tell the High Priestess that you won't be staying here tonight. She also told me to tell you that the female novices at the temple talk about how they want to grow up to be like you." 

"That's sweet, but they should really be striving to be more like Sune. Any good trait that I have comes through my following of her."

As Carrhae leaves the temple and heads towards the city, she notices that her pouch seems to be stained. She opens it to see a piece of melted chocolate and a wilted rose. Oh no. Strife's chocolate melted and her flower wilted up before I gave them to her. Come to think of it, I haven't seen her since we got to the city. Where is she? I hope nothing has happened to her. She walks around the city for a bit before realizing that she has no idea where to head to. She never told me where she lived and she never told me where the Zhentarim had their headquarters. Not like they'd be much of a help in finding her. Heh. You want the woman to take you as a lover, but you didn't even bother to ask her where she lives. Stupid.

Carrhae pauses a moment and empties her mind, attempting to focus on an object in Strife's possession. The first thing that entered her mind was Strife's pipe. She pictured Strife taking a whiff on it in the carriage and then passing it to Carrhae while she sat in her lap. She remembered Strife's face, inches from her own as she looked into her eyes and promised that she had far more gifts to offer and for a moment, Carrhae's mind wandered. Focus, Carrhae! This isn't the time for that! Your friend is missing. She shooed away her lustful thoughts and simply focused on the mental image of Strife with her pipe as she cast Locate Object, hoping that Strife wasn't in trouble, or that she wouldn't arrive too late if she was. As she felt around for the object, the more hedonistic part of her mind got one last jab in. Has it really been over a year since the last time you got any action? Gods, you're letting this body go to waste. 

Strife waited for the presumed assassin to give some clue as to her whereabouts or intentions, but all was quiet. As the minutes stretched into an hour, nobody appeared, and Strife began to reexamine her assumptions. If this were in fact a brothel, why was there no sign outside, nor hint this was anything other than a residence?

At about that time, the front door did open, and a young attractive woman entered the house, but she was human, not a Tiefling. The older woman in residence came out to greet the newcomer, and based on their brief chat, Strife could tell they were already acquainted and at least casual friends. The younger woman went upstairs, the older woman went back to her room, and a few minutes later, Strife heard bells and chimes from somewhere at the back of the house. A man appeared from the back hallway, and after conferring with the woman in residence, he also went upstairs. Perhaps it wasn't a brothel, but there were soon faint noises emanating from the upper floor that suggested it was at least a place of assignation.

Hoping that her pursuer had given up, or at the very least couldn't see that which was magically invisible, Strife opened the front door with Thaumaturgy and waited. She knew the bells and chimes would summon the older woman to investigate, but Strife waited as long as she dared, just to make sure there was no abrupt fusillade of crossbow bolts. Strife snuck back out of the front door.

Strife returned to The Tacking Dinghy, but of course there was still no sign of Goodfoot. She had a glass of wine which had obviously been diluted and didn't taste particularly good. She tried to then make a few careful inquiries as to whether someone had stepped in to fill the demand for Goodfoot's product, and eventually found another dealer working out of a pawn shop.

"Good afternoon, how may I help you?"

"Yes, I wish to purchase some Bloom Nocturne. Can you help me?"

"No. You don't look so good. I think you should go home, get some rest, take care of yourself."

"That's fine, I will, but first I just want to buy some. For medicinal purposes."

"Sorry, no. I don't even know you."

"Me? I don't matter, it's my gold I want to introduce to you. I think you will get along well. How much to fill this pouch?"

The clerk's narrowed and he studied Strife as he pondered. "Two hundred."

"Silver?!"

When he shook his head, Strife admonished him. "But that's outrageous! That's four times too much, at least!" Strife protested the huge disparity between Goodfoot's employee discount price and the extortion currently on offer.

"Maybe. But you don't look good, so I think you will either pay it, or my guard will show you out," and he gestured toward the formidable looking ruffian stationed near the doorway.

Strife began to assail his mind with whispered Words of Terror, causing him to imagine sharp incisors cutting into his soul, ripping and shredding the flesh of his defenseless spirit. He began to fill Strife's pouch with very unsteady hands while she counted out fifty gold.

Having at last obtained what she had been searching most of the day for, Strife felt no satisfaction nor sense of accomplishment. Though she yearned for the calming escape of her pipe, the thought also turned her stomach. She didn't know Waterdeep well at all, but the crowd she most recognized was sadly the patrons of The Tacking Dinghy, so it was there she returned for a third time, trying to be vigilant for those who might be hunting Zhentarim. She sampled all the drinks on offer and concluded rum was their most tasty option, but it wasn't long thereafter before she knew she had had too many. She paid for a room and after navigating her slightly unsteady way there, she flopped onto the bed. "What time is it?" was her last thought before nodding off.

As the day wore on and Strife’s behavior became increasingly erratic, Mercy slowly became concerned for her traveling companion. When her fellow Tiefling followed a bird of all things into an alleyway and seemed to be having a conversation with it, that concern tripled. She crossed the busy street, but still almost lost the bard in the crowd. When she saw her go into a building with red shutters, Mercy blushed and stepped back. She knew this city like the back of her hand, and she felt awkward for having followed her friend to an...intimate meeting.

The awkwardness didn’t last long as she saw the door of the place open on its own shortly before Strife exited. Now as confused as she was concerned, she kept pace behind the Bard until her friend finally found lodging for the night. Sighing, she shook her head and slipped through the streets and backways to Gerde’s home. She greeted the dwarf warmly before inquiring of her “How is she?” To which the woman’s response was to take her to a small cellar door before placing a hand on her shoulder.

”Ye must be sure yer ready t’go in there, lass. Poor soul’s near feral.” Mercy nodded and stepped into the cellar, brushing cobwebs away from her face. When Gerde closed the door behind her, all she could hear was a low growl from the injured panther that pressed herself against the far wall. Taking a deep breath, she knelt and slowly held out her hand. “The boy is safe.”

The growling stopped, and she knew she had the beast’s attention. “I saw you protecting him. You were fantastic.” Feline teeth bared in a warning snarl, but the girl refused to flinch. “Would’ve been nice if I’d had someone like you when I was a child.” She sighed and lowered her hand, looking away. She didn’t know what she’d expected. Gratitude from a wild beast for saving it from an angry guard?

”You’re...still...a child.” The feminine voice startled her. Looking back where the panther had been, an elven woman crouched staring back at her. Her dirty hair was nearly matted to one side of her head, dark eyes sunken in a sallow-skinned face. The woman wore dark hide armor, but she was still bleeding from wounds she’d not let the dwarves tend. “Yet you...saved...me...?”

When Carrhae's spell turns out to be a dud, she casts it again, hoping that she'll be able to wander into a part of the city where it'll pick up the pipe. And when that turns out to be a dud, she casts it again. And when she's exhausted her magical means of location, she spends the night searching for the Tiefling, hoping that Strife is safe, despite the fact that she's lived in Waterdeep long enough to know that there's plenty of places and plenty of ways to make someone vanish forever if they want it hard enough. Oh Sune, please let her be safe.

Con Save against Exhaustion: 8

Carrhae's concern for her friend is able to keep her functioning physically and mentally without sleep, but it doesn't make up for her neglecting her daily cosmetic routine.  

Carrhae didn't consider it a blessing that her mind was working at full capacity, despite her lack of sleep. As the night turned into the morning, her mind was plagued with visions of Strife, trapped in some underground chamber, never to be found, desperately calling for her in the hopes that she would come down and save her. Perhaps that was why it would take extra time for Carrhae to mentally register that the real Strife was calling for her, but without the desperation. Carrhae immediately turned around to run towards Strife and wrapped her in a tight embrace, only letting go when the daintier woman expressed concern about Carrhae impairing her ability to breathe.

"I'm sorry. It's just that I was so worried about you, since I hadn't seen you since we got here. I looked for you, but I didn't know where to go, since I never asked where you live and I didn't think that the Zhentarim would be too helpful in finding you." 

Carrhae's smile fades when Strife notices the stained pouch at her side. "Oh. Well yesterday was Sune's holy day, so I bought everyone a flower and some chocolate as a token of my affection towards them. I got some for you too, but since I couldn't get to you in time, the rose withered and the chocolate melted. I'd buy you some more, but I don't have any money left. But I will at least wish Sune's blessing upon you and may you find beauty everywhere you look. Oh and one more thing, Zephyr got all this money that they gave each of us. I used my money to buy this sword and this amulet, but they're still carrying your portion that you can use to get anything you want. So at least you can buy yourself something nice as well as some flowers and chocolate, since I couldn't give you any."

Strife woke up with a start - there was some commotion in a nearby alley, but that soon died down. It took a few moments to gather her senses and puzzle out where she was. It was quiet enough that she knew the inn must have closed for the evening. And since the tavern portion was shut down, it was late. Fasmo!

Her head ached. She was hungry, but nauseous, and her travel rations did not appeal at all. She took a swig of water from her waterskin. She was still somewhat unnerved by the events of the day, and rather than try to locate her friends in the middle of the night, she decided to play it safe. Tomorrow she would have access to her invisibility spell once again. There were not many in Waterdeep who knew she was Zhentarim, but she had been seen with Augusto on a few occasions, and Tieflings stood out. She was angry with herself, or rather more angry, because she ought to have reunited with her friends by now, and they might be worried. There was a spell for this, and she resolved to get it at the first opportunity.

She tried to go back to sleep, but tossed and turned for an hour before she managed it, and was then beset by a series of harrowing nightmares. She was roused from one of them by the yells of a neighbor shouting through the wall for her to shut up. When morning finally arrived, Strife didn't feel rested at all. She didn't want to get up. And admitting to herself that she didn't want to go fight the cultists in the hills brought forth tears that she cried into her pillow.

She had never undressed or "unpacked", so departure simply involved grabbing her knapsack and weapons and then settling her bill. The sun’s rays shone down cruelly into the streets forcing Strife to squint, her head bowed as she shlepped and trudged back toward The Harpers headquarters.

She didn’t detect Carrhae’s approach until she had been swept into the paladin’s crushing embrace, bringing a huge smile to Strife’s face as she was spun around. "Air," she gasped, as Carrhae's enthusiasm began to tax Strife's oxygen.

Upon hearing her mention the Zhentarim, Strife tried to interrupt. "Ha ha, that's funny! You are such a crazy kidder! Good one! As if they would ever have any use for a boring academic!" Strife looked around to see if anyone on their street might have overheard. She whispered a Message to Carrhae, Don't mention the Zhentarim - I will explain later!

As Carrhae mentioned that Strife's tardiness had ruined the lovely thoughtful gift of a flower and chocolate, the bard raised her hand to cover her mouth in shock, and tears formed in her eyes. After Carrhae suggested Strife might buy replacements with the money Zephyr was holding for her, she could no longer suppress openly crying. She sought solace in a renewed embrace with Carrhae. "I'm sorry," was all she managed to say, though she wanted to convey much more.

Conscious of all the stares they were attracting, Strife managed to collect herself and allow Carrhae to lead her back to the rest of the group. When she saw Daewen's tattoo, she was shaken to her core. Tears streaming down her face, she thanked her friend. "I don't think I could possibly have done anything to deserve something so magnificent, but thank you very much. You might suppose you know how much it means to me, but it's far beyond that. That is incredible, Daewen. I hope I may one day be worthy of this," and she then took Daewen in an awkward embrace, trying not to touch any of the sensitive newly tattooed skin.

Presented with a small fortune by Zephyr, Strife said, "I didn't do anything to deserve to receive this either, and I still have money left from our earlier payment. In fact," Strife rummaged in her backpack to obtain a pouch of fifty gold and presented this to Carrhae. "There, now you have some flexibility. But Zephyr, you don't have to do this, for me, or anyone. It's very kind of you to offer, but is this really what you want?"

Carrhae just holds Strife and attempts to provide comfort to the woman she loves. "No, don't cry. I didn't mean to make you feel bad. But if you feel like you need to offer penance for this, perhaps you could give me a massage later. My poor feet are in agony." She jokes. Upon hearing Strife's message, Carrhae whispers back that she's sorry for bringing up a subject that could result in harm for Strife and that they'll talk later. Once she returns to the rest of the party, she stops once she notices Mercy. "Ladies, do you notice that our dear Mercy looks different?" She says coyly. "I think she did something with her hair. No wait, I think she grew taller." She's unable to continue her feigned ignorance and breaks out in laughter. "I like your new clothes Mercy. It makes me happy to see you do something nice for yourself." Once Carrhae receives the gold from Strife, she gives her a little boop on the nose. "I'll be back shortly with your gift." She closes her eyes and mentally calls Cynosure to her using the divine connection they both have. "Good morning, my friend. I wish that I remembered you last night, perhaps my feet wouldn't be in so much pain." After a quick trip for more flowers and candy, Carrhae returns to the party. "Here. Now you have a physical token of my affection to go along with the verbal affirmation I gave you earlier. So! Now that pleasure is finished, let's get down to business. Which cult are we going to strike down first?

Zephyr raised an eyebrow at Strife's question. "Yeah? I mean, I wouldn't give it if I didn't want to, you know?" Zephyr glanced over to the other girls, a shy smile forming on their face. "I gave you guys the money because you all are my friends, and you all deserve nice things! We're working together to bring down some cultists ******** and we need nothing but the best equipment to do so." They stopped a second, shaking their head before continuing on. "No, you aren't my friends, actually, you're all my family. You all accepted me, showed me that not everyone is close-minded and judgmental in this world. All of you have such big hearts and I am so grateful to have met each one of you." Zephyr has tears stinging the corner of their eyes despite the beaming smile on their face. "I mean it when I say I love you guys, truly." They finish by looking at the questioning tiefling. "So, Strife? Please take my gift, okay?"

Whether Strife opposed or not, Zephyr would shove the coin somewhere on her person, saying 'Let me love you' over and over again until she accepted. When the question of which cult to tackle first was brought up, the changeling was quick to shout air.

“Ugh, yer all a bunch o’ syrupy tarts, ye are.” Mercy’s mocking tone cut through the general love fest the others were indulging in. A tabby cat peered at them from her shoulder, judging the group silently as it fussed with a small bandage around its middle. The Tiefling gently flicked its ear. “Enough o’ that, Ami. Let it heal. And for the love of all that’s holy, go back to Gerde. Yer in no shape for this journey.” The cat sneezed rather strategically in her face while her mouth was still open before jumping down and racing away to the dwarven residence.

Mercy grimaced and wiped her face. “Bloody cats...Speaking of animals... are ye all right, Strife? I coulda sworn I saw ye talking to a bird yesterday.”

ASSAULT ON FEATHERGALE SPIRE

The initial enemy force outside: Two Feathergale Knights on giant vultures are patrolling the tower. Two Howling Hatred Initiates are standing by the closed tower door at attention. Up at the top of the spire, two guards are circling the top on patrol, and have an amazing vantage point. You have not been spotted yet. 

Please note: From this point on, I will not "pull punches", not that I really have been, anyways, but still. Use your nat20s wisely, your inspiration wisely, for I will use my nat20 tables. This is you against the Spire, may the best team win. The fate of Faerun is in your hands. 

Victory: Defeat the Spire and you gain a level, live to fight another day, and try and take out another cult.

Defeat: The campaign is over, and the cults win. Period.

The first one to make an attack, or start combat in some way - we roll for initiative and there is no rest until one side has been defeated.