Sisters of the Shieldmaiden
Sniiiimon
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I felt inspired to write this thanks to @booinyoureyes. This is the brief background story to my first IWD:EE party, Sisters of the Shieldmaiden:
Lady Erawyn Shieldmaiden, a paladin in the service of Sune, was born to a succesful spice merchant of Waterdeep and a harlot. Erawyn's father, Lord Ormir of House Dukhal, wanted nothing to do with the child. Her mother, Ashalia, could not support herself and Erawyn at the same time. With no other option at hand, Ashalia left the tiny, red-haired baby at the doorsteps of the Temple of Beauty.
Erawyn was taken in by the clerics of Lady Firehair and grew up to become a kind-hearted and beautiful young women. Yet despite her great love for her many mother-figures at the temple, she felt an emptiness inside; she felt lost. She wanted, nay, needed to learn the truth of her past.
At the age of sixteen, Erawyn was admitted into the Order of the Ruby Rose. She was then tasked by Heartwarder Velandriel, who also granted her the unoffical title of Shieldmaiden, to leave the Temple of Beauty behind and journey forth so that she could do good in Lady Firehair's name. With fate willing, perhaps she would also be able to somehow fill the void inside of herself as well.
Erawyn's first companions were Asgara Hornhelm, a dwarven warrior-priestess of Haela Brightaxe, and Jorie Hillflower, a halfling rogue, with whom Erawyn saved the village of Everhope from a goblin invasion.
Faebeth Thessana, a human mage, and Vela Stormheart, a half-elven bard, were next. Erawyn meet them at the Dancing Cyclops tavern. Just like her, they were searching for their father, a waterdhavian merchant by the name of Ormir of House Dukhal. Thus Erawyn was closer to the truth than ever before, but she had no way of knowing that Faebeth and Vela were in fact her half-sisters. Despite this, she promised her newfound friends that she would aid them in their search.
Ormir had fled Waterdeep for reasons unknown, but the party found a lead; it seemed that the last person that had seen him alive was a certain Kaleen Eldramin, an elven druid of Silvanus. When Erawyn and the others found her, Kaleen told them that she had been tasked to guide Ormir through the wilderness of Icewind Dale. She had left him, just as she had been instructed, just outside one of Icewind Dale's Ten Towns; Easthaven.
Kaleen told them that three years had passed since that journey and that she had no way of knowing if Ormir was still in Easthaven... or alive at all, for that matter. Even so, when Erawyn asked her if she could guide them as well, Kaleen could not refuse her. And so the party set out, not aware of the role they would play in the great conflict-to-come...
Will update with more later on. Sleepy now.
Lady Erawyn Shieldmaiden, a paladin in the service of Sune, was born to a succesful spice merchant of Waterdeep and a harlot. Erawyn's father, Lord Ormir of House Dukhal, wanted nothing to do with the child. Her mother, Ashalia, could not support herself and Erawyn at the same time. With no other option at hand, Ashalia left the tiny, red-haired baby at the doorsteps of the Temple of Beauty.
Erawyn was taken in by the clerics of Lady Firehair and grew up to become a kind-hearted and beautiful young women. Yet despite her great love for her many mother-figures at the temple, she felt an emptiness inside; she felt lost. She wanted, nay, needed to learn the truth of her past.
At the age of sixteen, Erawyn was admitted into the Order of the Ruby Rose. She was then tasked by Heartwarder Velandriel, who also granted her the unoffical title of Shieldmaiden, to leave the Temple of Beauty behind and journey forth so that she could do good in Lady Firehair's name. With fate willing, perhaps she would also be able to somehow fill the void inside of herself as well.
Erawyn's first companions were Asgara Hornhelm, a dwarven warrior-priestess of Haela Brightaxe, and Jorie Hillflower, a halfling rogue, with whom Erawyn saved the village of Everhope from a goblin invasion.
Faebeth Thessana, a human mage, and Vela Stormheart, a half-elven bard, were next. Erawyn meet them at the Dancing Cyclops tavern. Just like her, they were searching for their father, a waterdhavian merchant by the name of Ormir of House Dukhal. Thus Erawyn was closer to the truth than ever before, but she had no way of knowing that Faebeth and Vela were in fact her half-sisters. Despite this, she promised her newfound friends that she would aid them in their search.
Ormir had fled Waterdeep for reasons unknown, but the party found a lead; it seemed that the last person that had seen him alive was a certain Kaleen Eldramin, an elven druid of Silvanus. When Erawyn and the others found her, Kaleen told them that she had been tasked to guide Ormir through the wilderness of Icewind Dale. She had left him, just as she had been instructed, just outside one of Icewind Dale's Ten Towns; Easthaven.
Kaleen told them that three years had passed since that journey and that she had no way of knowing if Ormir was still in Easthaven... or alive at all, for that matter. Even so, when Erawyn asked her if she could guide them as well, Kaleen could not refuse her. And so the party set out, not aware of the role they would play in the great conflict-to-come...
Will update with more later on. Sleepy now.
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Pure of heart and soul, but never the sharpest knife in the drawer, Erawyn longs for the feeling of completion that only the truth might bring. Or so she believes.
As a child, her many mother-figures at the Temple of Beauty offered her both protection and guidance. She grew to love them all. She does so easily, you see; love. But it is always in the most naïve and simple of ways as possible. She is childish at times and far too trustful.
As for her first companions, she grew fond of Asgara and Jorie quickly. Their relationship is complex; Erawyn feels both like a sister and a mother, all at the same time, to the two lovers. No matter how much the lust for glory and battle or the greed for gold and loot may consume her friends from time to time, she will never give up in her quest to make them into better individuals.
She encourages Asgara to write back to her clan, the clan that she left due to their belief that women were weaker than men in all respects. Asgara has to bite her tongue whenever Erawyn does so; for while she may still love her family, she is nearly driven mad by their foolishness. And yet she is lucky to even have a clan, a family, to call her own. Unlike Erawyn. So for her sake, Asgara will write to them. But she does not like it one bit.
Erawyn scolds Jorie whenever the halfling lass even thinks about stealing something... which is quite often. But as of late Asgara has begun to agree with Erawyn; that theft is immoral and that Jorie should start using her skills for something else. Jorie cannot help but to remember her brother Jamos, how he never used the tricks their grandfather taught them in order to steal. Perhaps, just perhaps, there might be another path to walk...
As for Erawyn's-in-secret half-sisters, she has yet to grow as close to them as she has with Asgara and Jorie. Even so, she trusts them completly; this trust was easily won, seeing as how Faebeth and Vela both are in a similar predicament as Erawyn.
The search after her real father is always on Faebeth's mind, even as the rashemi sorceress studies hard to keep in magical outbursts in control. She needs control. And what control might she have over something she knows little to nothing about? Faebeth is, at times, a tad too cold, aloof and strict for Erawyn's tastes. Is almost as if she tries to put a lid over her emotions; as if she would explode if she did not.
As for Vela, the half-elf's love for music and faith in Milil are both things that Erawyn can appreciate. Vela is intelligent, if not on the same level as Faebeth, and she is whimsical and humorous. Well, most of the time anyway; Erawyn was less than fond of her friend that time she put a spider on her pillow.
And Kaleen? Erawyn is unsure. The elven druid seems to prefer the company of nature over that of the other Sisters. Kaleen is melancholic and thus rarely smiles, and her eyes are clouded, as if she carries a burden far too heavy for her fragile body. And yet there is something that draws Erawyn to her. She will make the druid tell her the truth about her great sadness. Somehow...
Thus I present to you some of the adversaries the Sisters of the Shieldmaiden will face.
(Please note than none of the following characters are to be found in the game. They are original characters created by yours truly.)
Zeddug (LE male hobgoblin blackguard of Turaxia) is the self-proclaimed General of the Icelickers goblin tribe. In the past he was nothing but a lowly soldier of the Winterfang Company.
One day, however, a kin of his went too far; for reasons known only to himself, his overseer began to beat Zeddug mercilessly. He was left there in the snow, his body and spirit broken. He fell into a coma. And during this coma, Turaxia came to him.
The baatezu offered Zeddug two choices; serve him, and him alone, and become strong... or perish then and there. Zeddug chose the former.
When he awoke from his deep slumber, he found himself alone. The Winterfang Company had left him behind. By his side he found a black, serrated longsword. When he gripped its hilt, he could once again hear the voice of Turaxia. And he felt something within him change.
"Go after your former 'comrades' and slay them all. After that, your soul is mine, hobgoblin."
"Yes... master," the hobgoblin whispered to the sword. "Your will be done."
After he tracked his former comrades down, he did indeed slaughter them all. He took his time with his overseer, making sure he suffered for hours before he finished his work.
After that, he wandered alone for some time. His only company was Turaxia, who goaded him on. After a month or two, by the time Zeddug had grown even stronger and smarter under his masters' guidance, he stumbled across another lone soul; Krax (CE male bugbear assassin). Krax was a mute, and so his past was unknown. Turaxia told Zeddug to take the bugbear with him.
And so he did. The bugbear, a master of blades and poison, of terror and fear, would indeed prove himself useful. Together they wandered until they were found by a goblin tribe, the Icelickers. Zeddug was certain that they, too, could prove themselves useful. And so Zeddug slew their chieftan Morkhan and took his place as the leader of the tribe.
The goblin warrior Smoin Farsight (NE male goblin barbarian), his insane sister Dreka (CE female goblin sorcerer), the ancient Brogg (NE male goblin druid) and trapmaster Niszkh (CE male goblin bounty hunter) became Zeddug's more-or-less loyal lieutenants and Krax his bodyguard and most trusted tool. In the goblins' underground system Zeddug, along with Turaxia, began to plan on their next move...
It's so rich! I like this tale. Keep it up, thanks for creating and developing it
The place stinked. Of spilled beverages, spoiled food, urine and bile. Kaleen almost longed for the biting cold outside. Almost. She scoffed once again, silently cursing her sharp sense of smell, as she took her place at the table. Across from her, sitting side by side, like they almost always did, were Asgara and Jorie. Asgara the dwarven warrior-priestess had her lover's pipe clenched between her teeth as she exhaled the foul-smelling and multi-colored smoke towards the ceiling. Jorie, the halfling rogue, looked on meanwhile with sparkling eyes.
Faebeth, the human sorceress, tsked at the scene. "Really now," she said, her accent thick and full of amusment. "It is merely smoke, little ones, colorful or not."
By her side Vela the half-elven bard placed a hand on her sister's shoulder. "Be nice, Fae. The colors are, after all, very pretty." Despite her attempt at scolding, she was smiling just as prettily.
Kaleen had to admit that it was beautiful; the smoke had shades of ocean blue, forest green, sunflower yellow and blood red as it curled its way ever upwards. She had never seen anything like it. The only one who was not amused by all this was their leader, it would seem.
Erawyn Shieldmaiden's grey-green eyes could not hide the turmoil inside. The paladin was worried for her friends, of course, but Kaleen was certain that something else was bothering her. Perhaps it was weather outside, the howling wind... and that hard-to-place feeling that something was amiss.
"This tobacco," Asgara spoke up, her voice filled with wonder. "It's the finest I've ever had. It makes me tingle all over. Ah, and please don't call me 'little one' lest I take ye over my knees and spank ye."
Faebeth hid her grin behind her cup of wine. "Would that not make dear Jorie jealous?"
"Not really," Jorie said with a wink. "I'm not that fond of spanking, after all."
Vela giggled at the halfling's comment. "You could've fooled me, it's almost as you asked for it during our trip here."
Jorie actually had the decency to blush. "Hey, it's not my fault that I won every game of dice onboard the ship! Tymora was on my side, is all."
"Oh certainly," Faebeth chuckled. "You would never cheat, now would you?"
"Never ever! Well, not anymore at least... Besides, Asgara was too busy throwing up for her to punish me, even if I had cheated. Which I didn't."
The dwarf frowned at her lover. "Don't ye mention that, love, lest I grow sick again... Ye know I need me feet on solid ground. Don't spoil this here moment."
"Sorry, sorry..."
"This is all very funny, my friends," Erawyn finally said. "But maybe we should-"
She was interrupted by the arrival of an armored, burly man with graying hair. His eyes were hard yet not void of warmth. The heavy sword at his side and the giant, wooden shield strapped across his back seemed to weight nothing at all.
"What's this," the man asked, sounding friendly enough. "New faces in town, eh? Well met strangers. The name is Hrothgar."
Erawyn craned her neck so she could better study the man. He was quite handsome, despite being well into his middle age. His jawline and chin were well-defined and clean-shaven. His short, raven-colored hair had streaks of silver-grey in it and his eyes were the color of steel. He was clad in a full plate that, though lacking in decoratives, seemed mastercrafted. The same could be said of the bastard sword by his side.
"My name is Erawyn," she answered him. "Erawyn Shieldmaiden, a paladin in the service of Sune."
"A paladin, eh? I see," Hrothgar said, his expression softening. "What about your companions?"
"I'm Vela Stormheart," the half-elf chirped, trying to catch the man's gaze with her own. "Oh, and this is my sister, Faebeth Thessana." The sorceress merely nodded, barely acknowledging the man's presence.
"I'm Asgara Hornhelm, warrior-priestess of Haela Brightaxe." The dwarven women nudged Jorie's arm, and gave her back her pipe. "And I'm *the* Jorie," the halfling grinned. "Jorie-of-the-Stories. Jorie Hillflower. That's Kaleen Eldramin, the-ever-oh-so-chatty one."
Hrothgar nodded at them one at the time as they presented themselves and each other. "I'm honored to meet you all. I wonder, might I join you for a moment? There's some business I would disscuss with you."
"Sure!" Vela exclaimed before looking apologetic, "I mean... if it's okay for you, Erawyn?"
"I don't see why not," Erawyn shrugged. "Come join us, Hrothgar. We ordered some crimsonleaf wine and irongut ale earlier... please help yourself to some, if you like."
"Ah, some of Griselda's finest," the warrior said as he took his place at the table, but not before removing his sword and shield, putting them against the side of the table. "I thank you for your generosity but I must decline. The hour is late."
"It's never too late for a mug o' ale," Asgara mumbled as she poured herself another. That made Hrothgar chuckle. "Perhaps you're right. I suppose some won't kill me."
As he took the pitcher from Asgara's outstreched hand, Jorie held out her pipe as well. "Care for a taste," she asked. The man held up his free hand. "Nay but thank you."
"Suit yourself," the halfling winked before the glitter in her eyes returned. "But what was that about, that business of yours?"
"Jorie! Don't rush him," Erawyn scolded her, her voice harsh. "Let the man drink in peace. There's no hurry, now is there?"
Jorie rolled her eyes. "What's with you lately? You're no fun. I mean, even more than usual."
The paladin opened and closed her mouth, as if failing to find words. When she finally spoke, her face was bright red. "I'm sorry. Something feels... wrong. I can't explain it. I didn't mean to sound so... so..."
The halfling looked at her friend in silence. Jorie waved her hand dissmissively. "It's fine, Red. Vague. But fine."
During their exchange, Hrothgar had raised his bushy eyebrows. "Perhaps we should speak in the morning instead," he said. "I wished to see what sort of folk you were, as I'm the protecter of this town. But I see no real reason to worry." He took a swig of his bitter ale. "As for the business, I'm not sure on all of the details yet. There's been some complications that I need your aid with, if you're willing."
"What kind of complications are you speaking of," Kaleen asked, the first words she had uttered in hours. The elven druid's words were like whisper. Faebeth put down her cup of crimsonleaf wine with a soft clink. "Yes, I cannot help but wonder the same."
Hrothgar looked upward to the ceiling, as if the answer to the their question was to be found up there. His eyes followed the lingering smoke from Jorie's pipe. "A goblin-related complication. They have pestered Easthaven for quite some time. But lately... I think you are right, Erawyn. Something is indeed wrong. The weather this season has been crueler than usual. Far more cruel. There is something in the air, or so the priests of Tempos claim. Something vile. As for the greenskins," he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did. "Nay, I shall tell you more tomorrow, if you're willing to listen. This night is peaceful. Quiet. I pray that it shall remain so."
He emptied his cup and rose up. He placed half a dozen copper coins on the table. "I hope I'll see you in the morning. My home is couple of houses west of here."
"We'll be there," Erawyn smiled, albeit without much mirth, "as I'm certain that my friends will want to hear all the details. Oh and before you leave: we have some business here of our own. We're looking for someone. A man by the name of Ormir of House Dukhal."
As the name was mentioned, Hrothgar blinked and his eyes grew clouded. But only for a brief moment. He shook his head.
"I know no such man."
The elf sat cross-legged on her bed. She did not respond at first and was just about to enter the Trance. "He seems trustworthy enough."
"I quess," Erawyn mumbled. "He seems like a hard man. But with a soft core. I sensed no evil within him."
Kaleen furrowed her thin eyebrows. "That means little in the end, does it not? Even those that have no darkness tainting their heart and soul can still betray one's trust."
"Wait, I thought you just said-"
"I know what I said," Kaleen whispered, her eyes still closed, trying hard to avoid wistfulness to enter her voice."Yet I have been wrong before, many a time."
Uncertain on how to continue the conversation, Erawyn put down her silver comb; a gift from her mother. Her real mother. She could hear Vela snoring in the room next to theirs. How a girl that petite, and a halfblood elf at that, could make that much noise during sleep she would never know. For the second time that night her cheeks burned bright, and this time not from frustration. Jorie was being louder still.
"Why do you take care of your hair *before* you sleep?" Kaleen wondered, in an attempt to change the subject no doubt. "You still have to do it in the morning, do you not?"
The paladin pouted. "Because it helps me relax. And it buys me some time."
"For what?"
"For things to settle down."
Erawyn refused to turn her head to see that knowing smile of hers. She knew that if she could hear the others, then so could Kaleen... and more.
"I'm sure it's very pleasant and all that," Erawyn said, blowing out the lit candle on the desk. "But I sure wish they could be more quiet about it..."
Once she was under the many blankets covering her bed, she yawned, her jaw aching. Despite the warmth from the hearth below, the interior of Snowdrift Inn was still a tad too cold for her.
Soon she could hear nothing but Kaleen's soft breathing. She had entered the Trance and, with this in mind, Erawyn fell into a dreamless slumber.
***
ASK THE OTHERS FIRST. DO THEY TRUST HIM? IF THEY DO NOT, HOW COULD WE?
The hobgoblin licked his dry lips, his burning ice-blue eyes finding those of his lieutenants. Most of the goblins cowered before his withering gaze. 'As well they should,' the hobgoblin thought, his plate armor of raven-black metal screaming as he leaned back on his throne.
"Turaxia," the hobgoblin began, his voice deep and booming, "wishes to know if this scout are to be trusted. What say you, Niszkh, seeing as you are his superior?"
The goblin in question, Niszkh, squeaked and tried to hide behind his fellow lieutenant Dreka. She did not seem to notice or, at least, care. How very pathetic they could be, his little soldiers.
"M-me trust him," the goblin scout-master stammered, trying to follow Dreka's moments as she swayed back and forth, back and forth, humming quietly to herself. "Krank's g-good scout, would nots lie, no!"
The hobgoblin allowed his glare to linger on Niszkh a moment longer before looking to his left, past Smoin. "And what say you, Brogg?"
The ancient goblin snorted. He was one of the few that showed little to no fear. "If yous can't trust his words, then maybe yous master should reads his thoughts?"
"Turaxia and I need loyal soldiers. Soldiers that I need to use no such tricks on." The hobgoblin exhaled, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his serrated longsword. "I shall trust you, as much as your report pains me."
AND I SHALL DO AS BROGG SAID. JUST TO BE SURE.
Krank swallowed, his arm tired from his long-held salute. The hobgoblin, General Zeddug, might be his boss now but he missed Warchief Morkhan. He at least never forced him to salute.
General Zeddug's eyes flashed. "Start from the beginning."
"M-me was up the north cliffs. Me saw group of six, two humies, two pointy-ears and," the goblin spat, "two shorties enter town from south."
"If this is true," Zeddug said, "there are now twelve new adversaries in total that we need to take into account. Did you spot anyone from the first group?"
"Only one. The bigs dark one. He pushed aside a humie child, a girl, who was playing with thats furry little snack... erm... squirrel?"
"Did he now? And why is that?"
"Mes not sure. He took the squirrel in his hands and crushed it, me think. Such waste. Whatevs he did, it made the humie girl scream and faint and the other children runs away."
General Zeddug blinked and started howling with laughter. "A human with a sense of humor, who would have thought?!" He licked his lips again, more than certain that he would enjoy killing that one. "And the second group?"
"Them entered that big building that stinks of nasty drinks. They were in there for a long time. Me also saws that old warrior humie come and go from there. Then they left and entered another big buildig. Then me came back here, and Freeg tooks over."
The hobgoblin nodded as Krank finished his report. "Very well, soldier. Dismissed. Now then," Zeddug adressed his lieutenants. "Turaxia and I thought that Hrothgar would have left Easthaven by now, as earlier reports spoke of this expedition of his. Whatever his reasons for staying, we cannot wait much longer."
INDEED. WE MUST PAINT THE SNOW RED WITH THEIR BLOOD.
"But General," Smoin growled, placing a hand on his sister Dreka's shoulder to still her movements. "The troops ain't ready. Besides, me not sure ifs we-"
Zeddug forced the blade of his sword into the frozen ground, silencing the goblin. Even Dreka took notice. "You seem to forget, Smoin, that most of the people of Easthaven are not warriors. Not like you and your kin. However skilled these... guests might be, do you truly believe they can make that great of a difference?"
Smoin said nothing further. Zeddug continued, "We will not rush into Easthaven like mindless fools en masse. Turaxia and I have a plan. Niszkh, summon Krax to our side at once. And Brogg, tell us the current status of the Well..."
She shuddered and steeled herself as she pushed her sleeping blankets aside. She got dressed, her pale teal shirt and white trousers cool to the touch, and made her way to the mirror. She began to comb her hair once more, scowling as she took note of the dark rings under her eyes. Her reflection's expression was hard, far more so than it usually was. And her hair refused to stay in place. She was a mess, as simple as that.
They had only been in Easthaven for a day, true, but so far they had learned nothing of Ormir and his whereabouts. It made Erawyn frustrated. If Hrothgar, the self-proclaimed defender of this place, knew nothing of him then who would? They had asked Griselda, the matron of the tavern they had spent the previous evening at, and she knew him not. Neither did Quimby, the owner of this here inn. There was a temple of Tempus - or Tempos as he was called around these parts - nearby. Perhaps they should try their luck there next, after the meeting with Hrothgar?
Erawyn put down her comb with a soft clink, cursing silently as she did. There was something terribly amiss with all this, and she could not for the life of her put her finger on as to what. It was as Hrothgar had said last night; there was something else in the biting cold outside. Something ugly and wicked. And this feeling of wrongness was seeping into her, clawing at her insides, mocking her.
She sighed deeply and looked down at the comb between her fingers. It was beautiful, made from metal akin to silver, with carvings of thorny vines and rose petals. Her mother's first and final gift to the daughter she never had the chance to meet... if she had ever wanted to do that to begin with.
She could hear Vela singing downstairs and the smell of freshly baked loaves of bread and spiced porridge reached her nostrils. Her stomach gurgled in response, making her smile. Warmth was finding its way into her body. She placed the comb into its leather pouch and put it down carefully in her backpack. Whatever the dreadful feeling was, she surmised, there was little she could alone just thinking about it.
"There ye are," she heard Asgara said from the doorway. She was clad in her chainshirt - she did always say that she felt naked without it - and her short, straw-colored hair was as unruly as ever. Her eyes, the darkest shade of blue, was full of mirth as she raised an eyebrow at her friend. "I know ye need yer beauty sleep and all that, but we should make our way to Hrothgar's soon."
Erawyn sniffed. "Yes but let me eat first... I'm hungry. Is Jorie up? I want to-"
"Apologize again?" Asgara chuckled. "Yes, she's downstairs, stuffing her face full with food no doubt."
Erawyn could picture Jorie already, her cheeks puffed out, her lips smeared with jam and crumbs and butter. It made her laugh for the first time in what felt like ages. "I see... Is everyone else up?"
"They're up and about, yes. Vela and Fae are talking with an elf - Eravain, I think his name was - and my love's all over our food as we speak." She scratched her cheek, taking note no doubt of her fuzzy beard-to-be. She looked troubled for a moment. "As for Kaleen... haven't seen her in hours. She was up way before dawn. Said something about the lake."
Erawyn could not help but wonder what she could be doing there. She voiced this question to Asgara, who shrugged. "I haven't the slightest clue, I'm afraid. Perhaps she wanted to commune with nature or what have ye?"
"Perhaps. I'll take some food with me. I can talk with Jorie later on. I want to make sure Kaleen's okay."
Asgara nodded and turned to return downstairs. "I'm sure she is. She is tough, that one... for an elf. But do as ye please."
***
The air outside was indeed colder than the night before. The sun was hidden behind clouds of steel and each breeze, gentle or not, cut into Erawyn's body like daggers, despite her fur-clad cloak and thick and well-greased leather. Following the muddy trail leading from the Snowdrift Inn down to the lake was an easy enough task.
She waved with her free hand - the other holding unto the cloth with a loaf of bread and some dried meat inside - and greeted all the townsfolk she encountered... most of which either ignored her outright or stared at her like she had grown a second head like an ettin. Mostly the men. She shook her head and soon enough she was down by shore of Lac Dinneshere.
Kaleen was sitting upon one of the flat, large rocks near the icy water. She was clad in her usual leather outfit, that revealed far too much of her skin to Erawyn's liking - how could the coldness not bother her? - and her braided, raven-colored hair was moving as if it had a will of its own. She whipped her head around as Erawyn came closer. Her face was a mask of serenity yet her coal-black eyes was filled with... fear?
Erawyn stopped and her heart began to race. "Kaleen? What's wrong?"
The elven druid bit her lower lip, hard enough to nearly draw blood, before she spoke. "I... I am not certain, Erawyn. It think something... or someone... is coming. The Dale herself is in great pain. She suffers and I cannot... I know not what to do."
"I know, I can feel it too." Erawyn took a step closer, then another. "If it's okay with you, we can eat and talk and maybe make some sense of all this. Together we can do what we can't on our own. So... please let me sit with you."
Kaleen was silent for a moment. "I... I think I would like that. Wyn."