The cleric Adrie huffed as the last seriously injured person was taken care of. "Thank you, Gundar, again. For saving us."
Gundar stood, brushing the dirt and loose blood from his hands. "It was not only me, Miss Moonshade. It was me, the other strangers, the brave citizens who took up arms for the ones they loved, and the soldiers, every one."
Adrie gave a humbled smile. "Right."
As the cleric gathered her things, Gundar clasped his hands together and prayed. Thank you, Moradin, for giving me the power and the strength to fight the goblins and protect the good people of this world. And thank you for bringing these heroes to Loudwater in time for the attack, especially Shakairra Romazi, Rain the She-Wolf, and Quarrel-Karn of the Burning Cloak.
When he was done, he opened his eyes to find a pair of golden orbs staring up at him.
"If your done with your prayers, I need to talk to you," Shakairra said, with a tone of humility and respect Gundar had never heard from her. He wasn't sure he liked it.
"First of all, I'd like to thank you for helping us," she began when they returned to their table at the tavern. She brushed some of the dirt and rubble that'd found its way to the table and sat. "Really, a lot of people would've died if you hadn't been there."
"Many would have died if you had been absent as well," Gundar replied, sitting across from her and removing his stifling helmet. "You are quite a leader."
She looked away. "No, I just have the most experience."
"At twenty years old? Come now, Shakairra."
She gave him an annoyed look. "In any case, I have to ask even more from you."
Gundar rested his hand on his helmet. "You want me to expunge the goblins from their lair."
"Essentially." Shakairra drummed her fingernails. "No, not essentially. That's the whole of it."
"Who else, if anyone, will come?"
"Captain Wil asked me to lead a team to the lair, and Quarrel-Karn has volunteered. When I'm done talking with you I'm going to ask Rain the She-Wolf."
"Anyone else?"
"I don't trust the other soldiers."
"Because they do not trust you."
"Do you?"
"I do not know you."
"And yet you risked your life twice for people you don't know."
"When members of the goodly folk require protection it is my duty to do everything I can to keep them from harm."
"I see." She tapped the table with her nails. "And what about tieflings? Am I a member of the 'goodly folk'?"
Gundar paused. He had to give this some thought before answering carefully. "As tieflings are descended from humans, I put them in the same category."
"And humans are...?"
"A goodly race."
"But drow are descended from elves, and yet everyone agrees they're evil. So let me ask you again, Gundar, are tieflings a goodly race?"
Gundar studied her, especially the eyes. They were unblinking, and her mouth was very slightly tilted upwards into a smile. "It does not matter. Not to you, anyway. The individual decides whether their race is good or evil, and if every tiefling followed your example, Shakairra Romazi, tieflings would easily be categorized as a goodly race."
She gave a twisted smile. "If you ever get the chance to really know me, Gundar, you wouldn't be so quick to call me good."
He wasn't sure how to take that.
"But, in any case, I digress. Will you or will you not come with me and Quarrel-Karn and possibly Rain to get rid of these goblins?"
Gundar reached out with a blue hand and brushed Shakairra's cheek. She jerked a little at the touch, but otherwise remained still. Her skin was hot beneath his touch, and Gundar got an uneasy feeling that was not his own, an echoing memory from a life decades ago.
It does not matter whether a tiefling leads me, or an eladrin, or another deva, he thought as he said a prayer to heal the acidic craters on her stern face. This is the instrument Moradin has sent me to cleanse myself of my past life's sins.
When he pulled back, the acid and wounds were gone, leaving Shakairra unblemished.
"You lack a healer," Gundar observed. "I would be honored to fill that roll." And maybe help you find the good in yourself. And the good in myself.