Chapter 7: Reaffirmation of Faith
Sand sat easily in the saddle, spell book open in front of him, silently persuing the spells in it. They were now about a week outside of Battledale and another week should see them in Neverwinter territory near Crossroad Keep. The land was quiet, peaceful and nothing had threatened him and Casavir, not even brigands. It was so different travelling the land now as compared to a scant few weeks ago that he almost felt it happened in another lifetime. He found it rather pleasant, but was still not willing to let down his guard completely, hence the need to memorize a few spells just in case something should happen. Currently Casavir was walking just in front of him leading the pack horse. The paladin seemed to prefer walking to riding and Sand certainly was not going to object to the man's decision. His keen hearing easily picked up the low grumble that suddenly issued from the paladin's mouth, a grumble that said Casavir was once again thinking of all that had gone wrong. Sand's brow furrowed in irritation at the man's stubborness. Usually paladins were optimistic to the point of being annoying, but not this one. No he had to be stuck with the one paladin in all of Faerun that could not see the forest for the trees.
Sand closed his spellbook, knowing that he would not be able to memorize anything more now that his concentration had been broken. He had tried talking to Casavir, but all attempts had been firmly brushed aside and he had let the subject drop each time. However, the paladin's mood kept getting darker and that boded ill for a pleasant or purposeful journey. The thing the elf found most disturbing was the fact that he had not once seen Casavir pray to his god Tyr since their escape from the ruins. It had bothered him from the beginning that the paladin had not offered his healing services for their injuries, but he had chalked it up to the man being exhausted. The gods knew he himself had felt like he had been drained to the point of no return and certainly had not been capable of any strenuous magic. Now however, he felt that there was more to it than that and he decided to have it out with the man once and for all. He would not allow Casavir to dodge the issue any longer and as soon as they stopped to rest he would broach the subject.
Casavir walked down the road, his thoughts turned inwards once again, his eyes not seeing the beauty of the land around him. The journey so far had been quiet and peaceful, with not even a brigand to trouble them. He had become used to traveling fully armed and armored, to sleeping with one eye open and to standing watch every night. It almost made it impossible for him to sleep at night now knowing that there was no immediate danger to deal with. To know that this peace had cost the lives of those he held dear only darkened his mood further. Ashara had been lost, he had failed of his promise to Sir Nevalle, and he was not looking forward to seeing the man again in light of that failure. His failure left a bitter taste in his mouth and a dead feeling in his heart.
Noticing that it was now about mid day he began to look for spot to stop and have some lunch and rest a bit. They had made excellent time because they refused to rest longer than was absolutely necessary. He wasn't eager to return to Crossroad Keep, but he didn't want to delay that return either. Sand seemed to feel that things were not so hopeless or dark, and he wished he could feel the same way, but he just couldn't seem to convince himself of that. Finally he spied a shady little hollow off to the side of the road and headed for it. The grass was lush and the horses would be able to feed freely on it thus saving the grain they had purchased for the trip.
Sand gathered his thoughts and his determination as Casavir finished pulling out some food for their lunch. They ate in silence for a while, the horses cropping the grass the only sound to be heard. He peeked over at the paladin and saw the dark look on the man's face and decided enough was enough.
"Casavir it is time that you and I had a serious talk," he began and saw Casavir's expression turn wary. "You have avoided the issue for long enough and quite frankly I am tired of it. It is time to get it off your chest and move on."
"What issue might that be Sand?" Casavir asked, his tone flat and hard.
"You know damn well the issue!" the wizard snapped, finally losing control of his temper. "I have watched as you mutter, grumble, scowl and inwardly seethe over what you perceive to be an injustice, but it is all in your head. You are blaming yourself and more importantly Tyr, for events beyond your control. You have become someone I do not even know anymore and it is a person I am not sure I want to know."
"You don't know what you are talking about," Casavir retorted angrily. "You always think you know everything, but you don't know anything about my thoughts or feelings."
"As a matter of fact I do know more about what you are feeling than you might suspect," Sand said a little more calmly. He knew that if he let the anger get control of them then the discussion was doomed. "The simple fact that you have not completed your devotions to Tyr even once in the past couple of weeks is more than enough to confirm my knowledge."
Casavir glared at the wizard and growled out, "Go ahead Sand, enlighten me if you can."
Sand bit back a sharp retort at the sneering condescension in the paladin's voice. "The only reason a paladin stops his devotions to his god is because he has lost his faith, either in himself or his god. You have lost your faith Casavir, and not for any real reason but for imagined ones. You believe that because Ashara is missing that you have failed of your promise to Sir Nevalle. This also makes you believe that you have failed Tyr because you have failed to make good on that sworn promise. I happen to find these feelings a trifle egotistical on your part, something that I had not suspected you capable of before."
"It is not ego!" Casavir yelled at him. "It is truth and maybe you can close your eyes to it but I can't."
"It is an imagined truth, something you have created out of thin air Casavir," Sand said heatedly. "It is highly presumptious on your part to assume that you understand all the reasons for the events that have transpired. Only the gods are omniscient, not us mere mortals. To believe you have failed, without knowing such things, is to insult not only those of us who have survived, but Tyr as well. You are merely wallowing in self pity and I find that reprehensible."
Casavir felt himself flinch at the harsh words and this caused him to stop and take a closer look at his thoughts and feelings. Could Sand be right and was he merely indulging in his black mood for no reason other than a presumption of failure? The last time he had seen such a look of disgust on Sand's face was when Qara had turned traitor and joined Garius' side. To be looked at in that same way hurt him to the core and made him feel ashamed of his behavior. Qara had been a selfish and spoiled child and had been blind to her faults and weaknesses, thus she had been easily swayed by empty promises. He compared his current attitude to hers and realized that they were too similar to be denied. He looked up at Sand, his eyes filling with the dawning realization of what he had become.
"Now I do not want you getting down on yourself about the way you have been behaving Casavir," Sand said firmly. "What I do want is for you to stop blaming yourself, Tyr, and everyone else for what has happened and move forward with your life. I want to see you filled with the drive and purpose you had when we helped Ashara battle our enemies. Before that can happen you need to spend some quiet time praying to Tyr and asking his forgiveness for your blindness and stupidity. So I suggest that we find a better place to set up camp and that we stay there until you have found your faith and purpose once more."
Casavir stood up and then turned to face Sand and looked him sqare in the eye. Taking a deep breath he said sincerely, "I am lucky to have a friend such as you, one who will not stand idly by and let me slide into darkness without a fight. I am sorry that I could not see the truth without help and I thank you for your harsh words for they were honest and true."
"What are friends for if not to remind one that they are behaving like a spoiled child, hmm?" Sand asked, amusement now coloring the words.
Casavir felt his lips twitch and then he was laughing in a manner he had not experienced in a long time. "I'm glad that recent events have neither dulled your wits nor softened your tongue wizard," he finally said as his laughing subsided. "That would have been tragic indeed."
"Ashara did not keep me around for just my potion making and spell casting skills you know," Sand said haughtily. "She rather enjoyed exchanging barbs and trading words with me, despite the fact that she never won a bout. Indeed she practically ordered me to never lose my sharp tongue and even sharper wit. It is nice to see you acknowledge my other talents."
Still chuckling slightly, Casavir gathered their things before collecting the horses and starting down the road once more. As he walked he thought about Sand's words and kept an eye out for a good location for camp. Just a couple miles from where they had stopped for lunch he saw a small stream over which a bridge had been constructed. To the left he saw a stand of trees that looked like it had potential and headed for it. Upon reaching them he saw that there was a generous amount of space with lush grass in the middle and decided this would be the best place to camp. Together they removed the burdens from the horses and then removed their bridles. Sand cast a spell around the camp to keep any predators away from them so he would not have to worry about there being any interruption that night.
"I will make a fire and leave you to do whatever it is you paladins normally do during devotions," Sand said aloud to Casavir. "I have my spell books as well as a couple of other tomes to occupy my time. I do not want you to worry about me. Just focus your thoughts and energy on reestablishing your faith, hope, and trust, not only in your god, but also in yourself and your friends."
"Thank you Sand," Casavir said simply before digging into one of the bundles and pulling out the items he needed that he had always carried with him. As he looked at them he tried to remember the last time he had done devotions. When he realized that it had been months he felt his face heat as shame washed through him. No wonder he had been racked with such dark thoughts and feelings of guilt. He had a feeling that Sand knew exactly how long it had been and also just how much of an effect it had had on his behaviour. It made him all the more grateful to have the wizard's friendship and companionship. Moving away a little, he turned to face the setting sun and knelt down to begin setting things up for devotion. Once it was all arranged he sat back on his heels and stared at the items, at a loss as to how to proceed for the first time since he was a boy. Soon he realized that it wasn't because he had forgotten how, but because he felt unworthy to continued. As the thought crossed his mind he thought he heard a snort of amusement and turned quickly to look back at the wizard. However, Sand appeared to be engrossed in a tome and was paying no attention to him, so he figured it had been his imagination.
Sighing, he once more turned back and closed his eyes, relaxing his body and trying to open his mind and heart to Tyr. The old thoughts and feelings of doubt and failure tried to intrude but he resolutely pushed them aside, ignoring them. How long he sat there in silence he didn't know, but he became aware of an inner peace beginning to fill him. A light seemed to be shining through the darkness inside him, chasing aware the fears and doubts, allowing peace to flourish in his heart. That was when he found the words to pray to Tyr, to beg him for his blindness and lack of faith. With each prayer he felt his sense of peace and balance grow stronger and the words came easier. Soon his soul found the peace his heart felt and he felt a warmth wash over him and a smile curved his lips. The warm touch was that of Tyr and it was filled with love and forgiveness. He had forgotten what that felt like and was overjoyed to feel it once more. Tears flowed silently down his face as he realized that while he had turned his back to Tyr, his god had neither forgotten nor forsaken him. His tears stopped finally and a sigh left his lips. He sat for a while longer and then opened his eyes. When he did, he couldn't keep from gasping in surprise for night had fallen. He had been lost in his devotions for hours and yet it felt like no time had passed at all.
Sand looked up as he heard Casavir approach and then simply stared in fascination at the face before him. Where before the eyes had appeared devoid of emotion there was now a sparkle and light in them. Where once there was a scowl, the lips were curved in a slight smile. The muscles that had been tense before were now relaxed. Everything about the man now exuded a peace and confidence not seen in many months. "I am pleased to see you looking like your old self once again my friend," he stated simply.
"I am feeling like my old self again my friend," Casavir replied as he sat down on the opposite side of the fire. "You were right about everything and I was so wrong about so much. Not many would have stood by me like you did, nor would they have forced me to look hard at myself and my actions like you did. Forgive me for being a fool?"
"You are not a fool, but you are a human and one who feels everything so deeply, too deeply sometimes," Sand replied. "Humans as a whole tend to be very emotional and usually find themselves in deepest trouble when they let those emotions run loose. However, there are those among your kind, yourself included, who tend to bottle up their feelings too much. That is almost as disastrous as letting them have free reign. I however, being an elf and a highly intelligent one at that, have the ability to step back from my emotions and see both sides of an issue. That is how I understood your problem and also how I knew what the solution to your problem was. But all I did was point you in the right direction, everything else that happened was done by your will alone. No amount of knowledge or prompting would have made you take this step in regaining your true self if you did not want to do it."
"I know what you mean," Casavir nodded. "When I finished setting everything up and settled myself to start my devotions, I found myself in a quandry. I was unsure how to even begin and the doubts and fears started to creep up on me. However, this time I forced them away instead of embracing them because I knew if I didn't then I would truly be lost. I kept doing that over and over until they ceased to intrude. It was only then that I could begin to open up my heart and soul to Tyr. I poured everything out, left nothing hidden, and prayed harder than I have ever prayed before. One could say I had a desperate need to unburden myself and maybe I did. In the end I found the peace I needed and received the forgiveness I sought. Only one thing remains for me to feel complete, and that is to ask for your forgiveness. I know that I have made things more difficult for you than I should have and for that I apologize. If you find yourself unable to forgive me I can accept that, but I have to ask."
"Oh, you mean forgive you for being a pain in the ass?" Sand asked archly. "Forgive you for being silly? For being an idiot? For being a foolish human with all their foibles? For being stubborn to the point of obstinancy?"
"You don't have to rub it in wizard," Casavir scowled at the elf, but his lips twitched in humor.
"I have lived and worked with humans for more than three centuries," Sand snorted, his own lips twitching as he fought a smile. "I am used to dealing with their faults and failings, but rarely do I get to experience it when they realize their mistakes and correct them. I may not be perfect, and I do make mistakes myself on rare occasions, but I acknowledge it when I do and take steps to make sure I do not make the same mistake twice. I am glad to see that you are one of the rare humans who have the ability to fix their own problems, at least once they have someone point them out."
Casavir tried to scowl but found he was too happy now to do more than laugh at the wizard. "Maybe if humans lived as long as elves they would develop a simialr ability," he chuckled.
"Good gods, what a revolting thought!" Sand exclaimed. "Can you imagine someone like that good for nothing ranger or spoiled brat sorceress being around for a few centuries? The world would not survive such a thing," he snickered.
Casavir had started when the wizard mentioned those two of their companions that had betrayed them, but for the first time anger wasn't his immediate reaction. No, it was sorrow and disappointment that filled him now. He had always believed that miracles could and did happen, but it would have taken an act of the gods to move those two humans from their self chosen path to destruction.
"Sorry, I did not intend to put a damper on things by mentioning those two former thorns in our side," Sand apologized softly when he saw that Casavir was no longer laughing.
"Don't be," Casavir said firmly. "I have avoided the subject of the two traitors for too long, and there is no time like the present to discuss what they did and put them firmly in the past where they belong."
"Very well," Sand said amicably. "Qara brought her fate upon herself due to her stubborn refusal to see her own faults and failings. Bishop was too tortured by his past to ever find peace or allow anyone to accept him for who and what he was. Both of them were given every opportunity to change and neither chose to follow through. I actually thought that Bishop was beginning to change, that he was starting to see that there was more to life than wine, women, and killing. I believe that he was too afraid to let go of his past and embrace his future and that made it easy for him to turn against us. He has always run away from that which made him uncomfortable and what he was starting to feel as part of our group was uncomfortable to him. He disguised his running away by turning traitor, but in the end it was just a means to an end."
"I can understand him better now," Casavir replied. "My fear that I had failed made me turn away, but I managed to overcome it with your guidance."
"True, but you have always believed in Tyr even when you intentionally ignored him," Sand pointed out. "Bishop has never believed in anyone or anything, neither the gods nor himself, and thus had no reason to truly change his ways. As for Qara, she never even tried to listen to anything anyone said to her. She closed her ears and her mind to those around her and built a fantasy world in her head. A person who fears at least has a chance to change their ways, but one who does not use their brain has no chance at all. Qara claimed she was smarter than everyone but that only showed more clearly how stupid she truly was. She deserved what she got in the end."
"I don't know if I would agree with you on that point," Casavir frowned.
"That is because you saw her as a child who needed discipline and not a young woman out of control," Sand retorted. "I have seen her kind before and I feel you should know that they all meet a similar end. Those who covet power and regard only those with power as worthy of attention soon find themselves on the bad side of those around them and fall victim to that same power."
"I wonder if what Ashara did, letting Bishop go, had any effect on the ranger," Casavir mused softly.
"As we are not likely to see the man ever again, then we will never have an answer to that," Sand answered. "When we find Ashara, and we will find her alive, then we will know her reasons for what she did and see which of us is right."
Casavir was about to say more when the horses suddenly whinnied, and looking up, saw their heads pointed in the direction of the road. Looking that way, he saw a lone figure leading a pony coming their way. From the corner of his eye he saw Sand tensing, his lips moving as he prepared to cast a spell if the approaching figure proved to be a threat. After a couple of minutes, the man had come near enough for them to see he was old and carried no obvious weapon. Still, their experiences the past few months had made them overly suspicious of strangers and they didn't relax their guard.
"Good even' gentlemen, I don't mean to intrude but I saw your fire and was wondering if I might share it with you," the old man said by way of greeting.
Casavir studied the man intently but could sense no evil about him and so motioned the old man towards the fire. "Sit and be welcome," he told them.
"First, allow me to introduce myself," the old man smiled. "My name is Jonas Brinklemeyer and I am a tinker. I travel from town to town, village to village, plying my trade wherever my services are needed. This here is Pete, he's almost as old as me," Jonas stroked a hand affectionately down the old pony's nose as the animal snorted in disagreement.
"Welcome Jonas, I am Casavir and my companion is named Sand," the paladin introduced them.
"In my experience, craftsmen such as yourself generally do not travel the roads alone this late at night," Sand interjected, his voice holding a tone of suspicion.
"You are right about that, and normally I would not be on the roads now, but I had to leave the last village I was in," Jonas nodded, a sad note in his voice. "I knew I would not reach the next village before dark, but after what happened I couldn't stay there," he finished with a slight shudder. Even the pony seemed to feel his master's disquiet and nickered softly.
"Why? What happened that was so bad it made you want to leave?" Casavir asked in concern, his whole being tingling with an eagerness to ease the man's fears. He saw Sand also was now concerned and no longer tensed to cast a spell.
"I have travelled to many places, and I have seen many bad things and wicked acts, but what I witnessed today left me with a bad taste in my mouth," the old man answered. "I have never seen anyone act so callously and without regard for others feelings. Even when I saw someone killed in an angry dispute, at least there was a reason other than malicious amusement."
"Obviously you have never spent any length of time in the city of Luskan," Sand snorted. "That city has spawned some of the most callous, sadistic, and cruel people to ever walk the face of Faerun."
"I've never travelled to Luskan for that reason," Jonas nodded. "I had no wish to ever witness such things. That is why I left this last village. I didn't even wait to get paid for the few jobs I did, I just hurried out as fast as my old bones could carry me."
"What happened that was so horrible?" Casavir asked gently.
"I had been in the village for only a day and had already become uncomfortable with the men and women who lived there," Jonas began. "One of their favorite past times was gambling on cock fights. What was worse, everyone in the village, including the children, seemed to find enjoyment in watching two hapless animals tear each other to shreds. I knew that kind of thing went on but it just wasn't my cup o' tea."
"Unfortunately, many of the poorer, common folk have no other means of entertainment and so resort to such distasteful methods," Casavir spoke up.
"I know, but I had still determined to not stay any longer than necessary to finish the jobs I was asked to do," Jonas answered. "Usually, I rest my old bones for a while when the work is done before moving on. At any rate, early this morning a small caravan parked outside the village and the leader came looking to see if there was a blacksmith around. Apparently, one of the draft horses had thrown a shoe a few hours before and no one noticed it until the horse went lame. As I was the only one who had any skill at such a thing, the man offered me a handsome price to make a new shoe for his horse as quickly as possible. I went over and removed one of the other shoes so I could copy it and that's when I saw what the guy was hauling. It was a small, slave caravan that had four cages each with a person inside, all human. Then I noticed the way they were dressed and knew they were all gladiators, probably headed to Waterdeep to the arena there. Well, when the villagers saw that, they became all excited and started discussing the possiblities of witnessing a fight right there in their own village. The owner flatly refused each offer of payment until it got so high that he couldn't outright say 'no' and I held my breath to see what would happen."
"Those who own gladiators do not make any money if their fighters do not fight," Sand spoke up. "Most I have met do not turn down any opportunity to make a few coins. I wonder why this particular man was so hesitant?"
"If you had seen his gladiators you wouldn't ask," Jonas replied. "Each one was magnificent to behold in their own unique way, the kind of fighter that makes people sit up and take notice no matter the size of the ring they are in. Talent like that is not to be wasted on the likes of simple village folk. I thought for sure the owner would say no, but instead he countered. He agreed to the last price but made it a condition that one of the villagers would be the other gladiator in the fight. He was not going to run the risk of losing the services of two of his prizes due to injury. He even told them they could choose which of his fighters they wanted. Not suprisingly, the meanest and toughest of the village men, one by the name of Gerald, volunteered. Gerald stood about six and a half feet tall and weighed in at close to two hundred and fifty pounds at the least. Coulda been a gladiator himself. He went over and looked at the ones in the cages and to no one's surprise chose the lone female of the group. I guess he figured his chances were better of winning if he fought her."
"I have met some impressive female fighters in my time and I would not make such an assumption," Casavir said with a grim smile.
"She obviously was from one of the barbarian tribes because she was quite tall and muscular herself," Jonas continued. "To me she looked like she knew how to handle herself in a fight, regardless of who her opponent was, and I was really hoping to see her kick Gerald's ass. The man was an arrogant bastard and I thought it would be good if she could bring him down a peg or two. Anyway, they quickly set up a space for the fight to take place and all the villager's came over to watch and of course to place bets on the outcome. By this time, I had finished making the new shoe and was fitting it to the horse, making small adjustments as needed so it would fit properly. I guess the owner forgot I was there or didn't think I was paying attention, but I overheard a conversation between him and one of Gerald's rivals in the village. The gist of the conversation was that Gerald had cheated this other guy out of a prize and he was looking for revenge. He explained about the cock fights and how the people loved it most when one of the animals was killed in the struggle. He said that he could tell that the woman was a far better fighter than Gerald and that if Gerald was killed then no big loss. He in fact offered to pay extra to see that it was done."
"Dear gods! That's despicable," Casavir yelled in outrage, his stomach clenching in revulsion.
"Well, the owner didn't say yes, but he didn't say no either, he simply said he would wait and see what happened first," Jonas' voice began to tremble as he recalled the event. "As expected, Gerald was overmatched by the barbarian woman, and the other villages were thrilled to see the arrogant prick taken down a notch. In less than an hour after it had begun, she had Gerald on his back, bleeding profusely from several wounds, and completely at her mercy. As she stood over him, she seemed to think that it was over and looked ready to step away. Then the chants of the crowd reached her ears, 'Finish him! Finish him!', and her face went all white. I saw Gerald's rival pass some coin to the slave owner and he grinned the most evil, sadistic grin I have ever seen. He turned to the woman and order her to kill her opponent. She refused and he became angry, ordering her to finish Gerald off, his voice taking on a cold menace. When she still refused, he took a whip and lashed her with it a couple of times, drawing blood, and then ordered her to finish him or suffer the consequences. A couple more hard lashes convinced her of her master's sincerity and she slashed Gerald's throat with her sword and then turned towards her master. I thought she might attack him, but he had two really big guards by his side that moved quickly to disarm her. She was dragged back to her cage, but not before her master backhanded her brutally for her defiance of him."
"As sad as it is, that is unfortunately a common occurance in the life of a slave," Sand said softly, his own stomach rebelling at the story. "If she had continued to refuse, she would most likely have suffered much worse than a few lashes from a whip, might even have been killed. When you are not given a choice in the matter you cannot be held to blame."
"I saw her as she was shoved inside the cage, the look on her face one of despair and pain, and my heart twisted with pity for her," Jonas choked back his tears. "She looked so young and yet so noble that I wondered how she had come to be a slave. I cautiously approached her and asked her who she was and where she had come from. She pushed her long red hair back from her face and looked me straight in the eyes and said she was called Flame but that she had no memory of how she came to be a slave or where she had come from. She had beautiful emerald green eyes, like those of a cat, but they were filled with a hopelessnes and despair that I hope never to see again." He paused as he heard both men gasp loudly and looked up puzzled.
"Did you say red hair and green eyes?" Casavir whispered, his eyes wide, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. Seeing Jonas nod, he had to know for sure and asked the old man to describe everything he could remember of what she looked like.
"Well like I said she was tall, maybe six feet and had to weigh somewhere around a hundred and eighty pounds," Jonas replied. "She handled that great sword like she was completely familiar with its use and she moved with the grace, power, and speed of a panther. She didn't strike me as a slave, more like a warrior princess I guess you could say."
"Sand, it has to be her, has to be Ashara," Casavir said excitedly and saw that the wizard looked skeptical. "Come on Sand, even amongst the barbarian tribes it is rare for a woman to be that tall and weigh that much. What are the odds that there are two such as her in all the lands?"
"Astronomical but not impossible," Sand answered and saw some of the excitement fade from Casavir's face. "However, combined with her coloring, her choice of weapon and her obvious skills, I would say that the gladiator known as Flame and Ashara are indeed one and the same."
"Jonas, you said they were headed to Waterdeep?" Casavir turned back to the old man. Seeing him nod a resolute expression settled on the paladin's face. "Then that is where we must go," he looked at Sand and saw the wizard nod in acceptance of his decision. "If you would like to, you may accompany us Jonas. You have skills that might come in handy at some point and even though the land is safer than it has been, there are still many dangers out there for one travelling alone."
"Thank you for the offer, but I can't travel so quickly anymore and I don't want to slow you down," Jonas declined.
"No problem, we have a quite capable riding mount that you can use," Sand spoke up. "I am quite used to walking about at breakneck speed over the land and will manage just fine."
"Then in that case I accept your generous offer," Jonas smiled. "I think that we should have something to eat and try to get some sleep. The night is passing quickly."
After eating a hastily prepared dinner, all three stretched out on their bedrolls and tried to sleep. Casavir stayed awake for some time marvelling at how quickly everything had changed. Only the day before, he had been feeling lost and alone, unsure of what to do or where to go. Now he once again walked in Tyr's light and he knew where to find Ashara. He would be able to complete his task of bringing her home to Nevalle. As he fell asleep, he sent a silent prayer of thanks to Tyr, positive that it had been his god that had brought Jonas to them to give them a purpose once more. They would go to Waterdeep and find a way to free Ashara and bring her back home safe and sound.
