The abbess nods sagely in agreement with Astrid's estimation of her companions.

"A wise plan indeed. I have not concerned myself with Overhill of late; do witches and changelings typically go hand-in-hand, in your experience?"

     "I really haven't heard anything supporting it, but I try not to rule anything out. These shapechangers come from the Fey. And witches... Well, you know. We could be a witch if we got on someone's bad side." Astrid giggles then recomposes herself. "So, I guess it all depends on what kind of 'witches' we're dealing with up in Overhill because some magic users know how to contact Fey creautres."

The abbess nods thoughtfully.

"I will leave it in your capable hands. Good night, Lady Silverscar." She tells the dwarf, before departing. 

Quote from stormchaser6 >> 

Cassandra's deep blue eyes hold only empathy, care and a touch of pity. "How long have you been holding all that in?" She whispers, offering Alaris a teasing smile and nudging the bogatyr with her elbow. "The abbess is kind and wise. She sees to the heart of a person and knows if their motives are pure. She would not banish you for holding true to the Lady's light, nor would she seek to punish those who have risked their lives to guard our faithful. You live your life trying to please your friends, your order, your Lady. What does Alaris need? What does Alaris want?"

The bogatyr opens their mouth to speak, but no words came out. They stare out the window for a long moment before they can speak. "I do not know the last time I have thought about that question... what does Alaris want? I want to fulfill my vows and honor my Lady... I want to protect my friends and help us find peace and a home... a place we can stand and call our own no matter what the world thinks. I want to know -" they swallow and glance at Cassandra. "Ever since my parents were killed, I have felt like something is hunting me as well."

"I think you're onto something there, little 'Laris..." quips the sardonic voice of their Other from the back of their mind, "Hush you... not now. Don't go far, but one at a time."

"Am I crazy to want all those things?"

"A bogatyr with a home?" Cassandra asks with a soft smile that betrays mild surprise. "That's very sweet."

The pair stand in silence for a few more moments, before the halfling answers Alaris's question.

"I don't think that it's crazy just to want, but everything that we reach out and take comes with its price. What would you give to get what you want? Especially, when the cost of one may be giving up on another."

With a bounty snatched from the board in his hands, Caio stalks back to the abbey. He is shown to a comfortable room, Ghoul quickly making a nest right in the middle of the two pillows on the bed. Caio tries to follow his familiar’s lead and get some rest, but  instead his thoughts swirl like a gathering storm. Witches, döpplegangers, that dragon, the Morgensterns, the 99 Hundred, Nikolai, Ling, her… 

“It is always back to her, isn’t it? She really did a number on you…”

Caio launches a reflexive fist into the plaster beside him. “Silence. Shivala may have welcomed intimacy with her passenger, but I have no intention of doing the same.” He says as if to the small crater he’s just formed.

”That’s all fine by me, inquisitor. I’m just saying… as long as you’re trying to keep your mental closet clear, her skeleton is taking up a hell of a lot more room.”

With a sudden whoosh of his cloak being thrown round his shoulders, Caio storms out of the room. The shadar-kai seems to treasure his solitude, and he does, but Caio can’t stand quiet. Whether it’s the rustle of leaves or the howl of tundra wind, the white noise of the world serves excellently to drown out the sounds within his skull. The abbey’s quiet rooms clearly won’t do, so now he hunts down a tavern to drown out the sounds with chatter and drink.

Caio finds himself in a dinky, little pub named Gartlan's. At one of the tables in the centre of the common room, there is a ventriloquist performing with a puppet that looks very old and is wearing clothes that were quite fashionable about a century ago. The gnome has drawn a raucous audience, satirising current events and culture. He has the whole pub laughing. However, after about half an hour Caio notices that, whenever the ventriloquist suggests wrapping up the performance, the puppet dismisses his concerns. The show goes on for three hours until the puppet is finally satisfied, at which point the ventriloquist is extremely tired and looks terrified.

Caio watches on from a table, entranced not by the performance but by the unsettling nature of the doll. He sits for the three hours only moving to sip his ale or hail another, his eyes never leaving the puppet. As the show finally ends and the crowd begins to disperse, Caio approaches. “Nice show. Where did you get that?” he asks plainly with a finger jutting towards the doll, hoping the man speaks at least a little taneman.

Quote from stormchaser6 >>

"A bogatyr with a home?" Cassandra asks with a soft smile that betrays mild surprise. "That's very sweet."

The pair stand in silence for a few more moments, before the halfling answers Alaris's question.

"I don't think that it's crazy just to want, but everything that we reach out and take comes with its price. What would you give to get what you want? Especially, when the cost of one may be giving up on another."

"If the Lady finds a way to give us a home while I fulfill my vows, so be it. I cannot... I will not forsake who I am to take what I want." Alaris sighs. "Beyond that, I do not know what I will have to give."

Quote from Sphynxyy >>

Caio watches on from a table, entranced not by the performance but by the unsettling nature of the doll. He sits for the three hours only moving to sip his ale or hail another, his eyes never leaving the puppet. As the show finally ends and the crowd begins to disperse, Caio approaches. “Nice show. Where did you get that?” he asks plainly with a finger jutting towards the doll, hoping the man speaks at least a little taneman.

 
The gnome glances up at Caio with wide, bloodshot eyes. The expression on his face belies his lack of comprehension, but he raises the puppet and begins to make it speak in perfect Taneman.

"Why thank you, kind elf. Seosamh here crafted me with his own two hands right here in Paragon."

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Quote from stormchaser6 >>

"A bogatyr with a home?" Cassandra asks with a soft smile that betrays mild surprise. "That's very sweet."

The pair stand in silence for a few more moments, before the halfling answers Alaris's question.

"I don't think that it's crazy just to want, but everything that we reach out and take comes with its price. What would you give to get what you want? Especially, when the cost of one may be giving up on another."

"If the Lady finds a way to give us a home while I fulfill my vows, so be it. I cannot... I will not forsake who I am to take what I want." Alaris sighs. "Beyond that, I do not know what I will have to give."

 
"Any one of the things that you want," Cassandra points out. "Your one chance at such a home, the chance to uncover what became of your parents... your friends themselves. One day in the future, you will be faced with such a choice and you will have to sacrifice one forever to grasp another."

The little halfling suddenly seems very sure of this. There's a strangely ethereal clarity about her.

"Is that right?" Caio opens his senses as he comes close to the doll, and there is no hiding the scowl that comes across his face. The thing reeks of diabolical power, and power is the key word. How and why is such an overwhelmingly evil force here in Paragon busking in a tavern. Caio knows he can't deal with this threat alone, but he wonders if even the full force of the abbey would be enough to dispatch this cursed thing. "And what name has Seosamh here given you, puppet?" he asks, voice laced with sarcasm.

Quote from stormchaser6 >>

 
"Any one of the things that you want," Cassandra points out. "Your one chance at such a home, the chance to uncover what became of your parents... your friends themselves. One day in the future, you will be faced with such a choice and you will have to sacrifice one forever to grasp another."

The little halfling suddenly seems very sure of this. There's a strangely ethereal clarity about her.

Alaris turns to face Cassandra, and their eyes widen as she suddenly seems more there, more bright and bold and clear than the walls of the abbey or the light in the sky. For the briefest of instants, a deeper wisdom begins to dawn in the aasimar's mind. Then they willfully shake their head and retort, "Well, we'll burn that bridge when we come to it. Thank you, Lady."

Quote from Sphynxyy >>

"Is that right?" Caio opens his senses as he comes close to the doll, and there is no hiding the scowl that comes across his face. The thing reeks of diabolical power, and power is the key word. How and why is such an overwhelmingly evil force here in Paragon busking in a tavern. Caio knows he can't deal with this threat alone, but he wonders if even the full force of the abbey would be enough to dispatch this cursed thing. "And what name has Seosamh here given you, puppet?" he asks, voice laced with sarcasm.

 
"Péinesúl," the puppet recites with an edge of derision. "A most uninspired choice. I did not like it, so I have chosen a new one."

Quote from Aramalian >>

Quote from stormchaser6 >>

 
"Any one of the things that you want," Cassandra points out. "Your one chance at such a home, the chance to uncover what became of your parents... your friends themselves. One day in the future, you will be faced with such a choice and you will have to sacrifice one forever to grasp another."

The little halfling suddenly seems very sure of this. There's a strangely ethereal clarity about her.

 

Alaris turns to face Cassandra, and their eyes widen as she suddenly seems more there, more bright and bold and clear than the walls of the abbey or the light in the sky. For the briefest of instants, a deeper wisdom begins to dawn in the aasimar's mind. Then they willfully shake their head and retort, "Well, we'll burn that bridge when we come to it. Thank you, Lady."

 
Cassandra blushes and turns away from Alaris, seeming to shrink in on herself.

"Some might call that blasphemy, you know, Alaris," she tells the bogatyr shyly. "I'm sorry. It's not my place to tell you how to live your life."

Quote from stormchaser6 >> 

Cassandra blushes and turns away from Alaris, seeming to shrink in on herself.

"Some might call that blasphemy, you know, Alaris," she tells the bogatyr shyly. "I'm sorry. It's not my place to tell you how to live your life."

"I apologize, Cassandra. I meant no offense. But whatever happens... whatever choices are made cannot be unmade. I swear I will do my best to fulfill my vows, but I do not know what will happen beyond that." Alaris opens their arms and kneels to offer a hug to the lovely halfling.

Cassandra smiles sadly.

"I'm not offended. I'm flattered," she explains, tucking a rogue lock of hair behind her ear. "Stay true to your heart, Alaris, and it will see you through whatever troubles life throws at you."

Stepping into the aasimar's embrace, Cassandra offers them a chaste kiss to the cheek, before departing down the passages of the abbey once more.

A moment later, Alaris hears a sudden shockwave of displaced air followed by a string of Breannian curses that would make a sailor blanch, as Shiva abruptly appears in the courtyard in a cloud of purple energy.

Shiva's head whips around wildly as she discerns where she is through the purple cloud, but even the understanding that she is somehow safe and in the Abbey does little to calm her. “ALARIS! ASTRID! CAIO!” Tears begin to flow past her cheeks as her voice falters into shrill, desperate calls for her friends. She violently trembles as she grits her teeth and tries to control herself, but she cannot stop the tears. “WE HAVE TO GO! THERE ARE WOMEN BOUND TO BEDS, BEING USED AS SEX SLAVES. THEY LOOK HALF DEAD! WE HAVE TO GO NOW!!!"

She collapses as she finishes screaming, a weeping heap on the stone. Then the anger turns inward and she screams again, cursing herself for not being strong enough. For never being quite strong enough when it really matters. For failing everyone she attempts to care for and watching them pay for it. For being a burden. A blight. A demon.

Her blood-curdling wail fills the courtyard, then silence. 

ote from stormchaser6 >>

The abbess nods thoughtfully.

"I will leave it in your capable hands. Good night, Lady Silverscar." She tells the dwarf, before departing. 

     "G'night, Abbess... And thanks again for the accommodations."

     Astrid grasps the edge of the stone bench she's found herself on and leans back, looking up the stars with a smile after the pleasant conversation with the wise halfling. She glances around the empty garden area and decides to take advantage of the quiet evening. 

    Being from within the mountains of Kazad Azgaraz, not many opportunities as this has presented itself and most of the journey along the road from Pitrograd has had it's challenges. She removes her robe, spreads it upon the ground and lies down upon it to watch the stars. The dwarf lets out a contented sigh as she enjoys the beauty of the night's sky.  And thank you, Brightmantle. I doubt you're up there in the stars, but wherever you are... Thanks! Something faint streaks across the sky and the dwarf's smile grows a little bit bigger. 

     Astrid remains in her spot for the evening long enough for the cool, early spring air begins to make the dwarf's skin tingle slightly. Enough so, that she wraps her robe back around herself, but she remains, taking this rare moment of peace and quiet to reflect upon her journey. However, that quiet is broken too soon by familiar cries. Astrid's heart sinks as she hears Shiva's screams nearby. She jumps to her feet and rushes to find her friend. 

    "By the Scribe, girl! What happened to you?!" Astrid notices the clear signs that tiefling has been in some sort of altercation and kneels at her side to assess her injuries. 

Caio’s eyes narrow. “And what name have you chosen instead?” he asks, exasperation at the puppet’s demeanor already beginning to color his tone.