Author's Note: This one took quite a bit longer to transcribe. Of course, the fact that I had four tests last week didn't help at all.

On a side note, this just hit 100 pages in MS Word. And I look at some of the other stories on here, that are over 150,000 words, when this one is at 44,000 or so, and I realize several stories on here could easily be books.

In any case, enjoy.

----

Acquiring Transport

The group takes nearly half an hour to reach the docks, Waterdeep is a large city, after all. Kerth points out their ship.

"Excellent." Azrael starts forward, but Kerth's expression stops him. "What is it?

"Well, the captain doesn't exactly know we are coming."

The aasimar's eyes narrowed. "Explain."

"It's a Zhentarim ship. I figured we could take their ship off of their hands. There are only two we really need to worry about that are aboard, an elf and a half-orc. The elf is a crack-shot with his longbow, I've seen him practicing. And the half-orc swings a warhammer with enough force to pulverize a knight wearing full-plate."

Azrael smiles, though it was brief, and you would have had to have been looking straight at him when he did so, if you wanted to catch it. "Most excellent."

Shael matched his grin. "Well, perhaps I should go first. I can easily match the strength of that half-orc."

Endellion is behind the others, walking quickly with Impi and Jareb in tow. Her sharp sight catches a glance of the half-elf as he moves silently with them. Her eyes widen when she sees the ale cask but she turns her attention away seeming as Koravel wishes to remain hidden and continues to follow.

As Kerth and Azrael call a halt she makes sure to tether the two horses outside an Inn and she explains to the stable boy that the two steeds will only be there for a little while. Happy with the arrangement, the boy leaves.

She stands a little away from the others staring in rapt contemplation at the ship with black sails with her arms folded. When Shael is asked if she would go first the ranger turns slowly to look at the barbarian bard, an eye brow raised but she still doesn't get any closer to the others and turns her attention back to the ship.

"If someone gets the one in armor, either of them for that matter, out on deck..." she says loud enough for everyone to hear, "then I'll play the role of sniper." She gestures to the rigging of a ship docked a single berth away. "From up there it's an easy shot, though... it might be best to keep fights below the deck. Folk might take offence to the slaughter and call the guards." She shrugs, still looking at the black sails. "It's a tricky one."

"I'd like to know the overall plan first, though. Don't want to draw everyone up top if the plan is to go below like Endellion said. I do believe we're less likely to be stopped by guards if we carry it below."

She dismounts and loosens her spear from its holster on her back so she can retrieve it with a simple pull. T'riss takes her horse and Fafnir and ties them by Impi and Jareb.

Shael shakes her head, "Bach, nevermind that, the only sensible thing to do is draw it into the ship. Not as safe, but less likely to be interrupted. T'riss, come with me, will you? I don't want to make too much noise, which means killing fast. And if you got those bolts..."

T'riss nods and pulls a handful of bolts out of a belt-pouch and puts them in small loops along her belt. Obviously of dark elven make, they no doubt have similar toxins on them.

T'riss fades into Shael's shadow, quite literally, and Shael begins to confidently walk up the gangplank of the ship.

A large burly sailor on deck stops her half way up. "Hey! What you want? This 'ere's a private vessel!"

Shael grins and sways her hips as she continues walking up the gangplank, putting on her best seductive face, "I had heard there were some astonishingly handsome sailors upon this vessel.... it seems such rumors were true."

As ridiculous as such drivel was, the sailor swallows and hesitates before raising an alarm. With her long strides, Shael quickly closes the distance and slams the sailor up against the mast, "Sorry, mate." She drives a dagger up into his chest and T'riss quickly sends a spray of blots across the ship, almost all of them finding a mark and causing the remaining sailors on deck to slump to the ground. T'riss waves the rest of the party up to the ship as Shael leans on the cabin door to prevent any who heard the commotion from coming on deck.

Azrael notices a guard coming along, and quickly puts his mask on.

The guard stops and looks up at the ship. "What in the hells is going on here?"

"Church business. Best to keep your nose out of it."

The guard looks a little nervous. "Well… I don't think that…" and he suddenly takes off back the way he came. "Help! Help!"

Azrael curses under his breath. "We're about to have some company, come on!"

Azrael heads up the gangplank, followed closely by Endellion and Koravel.

Koravel runs into a sailor first. The huge cask of ale is still balanced on one shoulder. Gil'rad cuts the man down with ease. An arrow comes flying out of the rigging and embeds itself in the cask. Koravel looks up and sees an elf, dressed in bright green chainmail, setting another arrow on the string. The elf noticed him looking, and saluted. "You're going to regret that, ya scoundrel!" The half–elf hurled the barrel of ale at the sniper. With no other option left, the elf hurled himself off the rigging as the barrel smashed into the sails directly behind where he used to be sitting. "Oops." Koravel looked rather apologetic. There was a massive hole in the sail now.

There was a splash as the sniper hit the water. Instead of sinking, he easily makes it back aboard the vessel with a few powerful strokes. He slipped right through the lower window and into the hold of the ship. Endellion had noticed him, and headed down the stairs to confront him. Unfortunately, she had under-estimated the elf's quickness, and while she was occupied with looking for him, he sprang up directly in front of her, and with a two short motions, disarmed the unprepared half-elf. He found it rather more difficult to kill her, however, as she quickly rolls out of the way.

"Hold still you slippery wench!" He shouts as Endellion sprints off further into the gloom swearing at the elf.

As she runs through the vessel, over cannons, under tables desperately trying not to get stabbed by the tenacious elf she manages to acquire a bottle of rum and an oil covered rag. She finds herself trapped and turns, a hastily made, crude, 'Molotov cocktail' in one hand and a flaming cantrip in the other. She stands her ground and grins when the elf slowly approaches her

"You wouldn't dare," he glares and spins his short-swords on his fingers.

"Come any closer and I will," she hisses. "I panic when I'm trapped."

The elf stops advancing and snarls while Endellion is currently deciding how she's going to get herself out of this one without getting too singed around the edges.

An arrow whistles in through the window, and passes completely through the elf's wrists. The shot would have required that someone was flying over the water, as indeed Eilsar was. The Avariel grinned at his shot.

Endellion sprinted past the elf, who was staring at his bleeding arms in shock, and drops him with a right hook to the jaw. She hurls the cocktail back in the hold, and it explodes when it hits the floor.

*****************

T'riss is trying without success to open a door that obviously leads to the main cabin. She leans against it, taking a breath, glanced around at the carnage on deck. Eilsar lands on deck. "Nice ship."

T'riss doesn't have a chance to answer him as the cabin door bursts open from the inside and a massive half-orc, fully seven feet tall, rages out. "What in the hells is…." His voice trails off as he looks around at the ship. "Why you! Little maggots will feel the wrath of my hammer now." He drew a wicked-looking warhammer from off his back, and swung it at T'riss. Koravel intercepted the blow, and for a brief moment there was a struggle of strength between the two. Shael ended it by smashing her spear through the half-orc's side. To her astonishment, the half-orc didn't even flinch. Rather he exerts a final burst of strength to throw Koravel back, and turned to Shael, who ducked the tremendous blow he leveled her way.

"Maggots! Die!"

Shael drew her hammer to block the half-orc's rain of blows. He was exceptionally fast for one wielding a weapon that was so large. T'riss suddenly appeared directly behind the half-orc, whether she had teleported or turned invisible was anyone's guess, and stabbed him with a knife that was glowing with a green substance. The half-orc merely swatted her with the back of his other hand, and sent her crashing back into the door. Koravel was still struggling to free himself of the wreckage of the chest that he had been unceremoniously tossed into, and the half-orc took advantage by rushing his way, with the intent of finishing the half-elf off. He raised his enormous hammer over the prone Koravel, but Shael intervened. The thud of a warhammer crushing something's skull is not a pretty sound to listen to, but at that moment, Koravel wouldn't have traded it for a full-blown orchestra.

"Finally." The half-elf managed to free himself from the chest, and glanced once at the fallen foe. "He sure took a lot of hits. An army of those guys would be hard to defeat, indeed." The group worked as fast as they could to drop the bodies of the Zhents over the side of the ship. Azrael declined to help, instead once again taking out his book, and recording down the names of those who had fallen, which caused Koravel to roll his eyes.

"Jus' a bloody excuse not t' do 'is fair share o' t' work."

"What was that, half-breed?"

"Nothing, aasimar."

***************

Unfortunately for the group, there was something going on below-decks. The concoction that Endellion had hurled back at the elven mercenary had set fire to more than just the merc. The ship was carrying a massive cargo of rum to the Zhents. And everyone knows that fire, rum, and wood do not mix.

****************

Koravel was the first to figure out the danger. He had headed down to the stairs, intending to claim the first bunk, and instead, the room that he walked into was full of casks of ale. A single tear rolled down the half-elf's cheek.

"Oh, by the gods. He's crying over ale."

"Lots o' ale. Beautiful ale. I think I will remain 'ere during the voyage. Perhaps I can persuade Endellion to share some of this wonderful…." And Koravel smelled the smoke.

******************

Endellion burst out from below-decks, her shirt in tatters, and partially on fire, and smelling like smoke. The Avariel, and the three other members of her party looked at her in astonishment.

"What did you do, Shree?" Shael asked. Looking past her, she saw Koravel coming towards them at a dead sprint. "Run, Shael! Very fast!" The barbarian asked no questions, but turned, and sprinted off the boat, yelling at Azarel to get his holy butt off of the ship before it got cooked. Kerth was the second down the gangplank, but only because he was closest, Koravel unceremoniously tossed Shree over his shoulder without pausing and headed off the gangplank. Azrael, by contrast, simply walked off the ship without even breaking into a jog. Well, maybe a little faster when there was a small explosion under the decks. Endellion suddenly let out a shout, "My sword!" And raced back onto the ship, Koravel turned to stop her, but he had taken only one step towards the boat when the aft end exploded upwards in a shower of wood and flames. The shockwave stopped the half-elf dead in his tracks, and the ship rather gracefully sank in less than a minute.

T'riss cursed loudly. "Damn it! Flit, can you still feel her? Is she alive?" There was a muttered squeal from the morph as she sat in T'riss' hair, and then she sped out towards the sea.

Flit flies out over the wreckage, darting around, and then flies back, whistling affirmative noises, "Bloody half-elf. Flit keep an eye out for her."

T'riss leans up against a post and watches the wreckage and sea around it.

Reaching into her pack to pull out a skein of T'riss' good ale, Shael passes it to Koravel, "Yer drunker than a dwarf and it seems to make ye better natured. We'll get you another keg for the road. It's not like it's goin' to kill yeh." She winks at him.

The Avariel takes a small quartz crystal pendant from beneath his robes and looks at it, as though reading from it.
"There is still time, but I would ask that soon you take a short side trip with me..." he says as his eyes briefly flick to the Aasimar and back to T'riss. "But I would ask we speak first in private about the nature of my task."

When the ship explodes he jumps into the air and hovers above the scene, bow held tight in hand.

T'riss nods and hands her cloak to Shael. "Shael, go ahead and travel as you all need. I'll catch up. If Liridon doesn't load, tell him that I'll pen him with Keeli when he gets home if he doesn't load."

She extends out her wings from her back and stretches them out. She flinches and curses, "Dammit!" Bringing the wing around, one can see a bent and snapped feather sticking up out of the "arm" of the wing. Gritting her teeth, she plucks it out and gives the wing a shake. "Bloody wings."

With that she takes off joins the Avariel in the air. "Let's go."

*************

Nodding, the Avariel flies towards open skies, his graceful, spectacularly fast movements allow him to scan the lands below until he finds a spot he deems suitable. He lands lightly in an open space just outside of Waterdeep and turns to look at T'riss, removing the pendant again.
"Forgive me, I would not normally pull some one away from their friends especially when they are on so important a task, but one of my friends, a human, recently called me to his home, and tasked me with finding you and when you had a free moment, to visit him, at his abode...." he says, quite confident that no one can hear or see them.
"He told me of his travels with you and a few others some years ago; the Seer of fates, Jac Koel, is his name familiar to you?" he asks.

T'riss smiles widely, "Ah! Good ol' Jac! Of course, I'd be delighted to meet up with him! Don't worry about my comrades, they can take care of themselves and I can catch up quickly. Please, if you could show me the way, please do!"

The Avariel nods and holds the quartz crystal up, and utters a phrase under his breath. The pendant flashes brightly and T'riss and Eilsar are whisked away.

**************

Kerth watches as T'riss takes off into the air "I knew she was a demon!" he points at Azrael.
Azrael sighs. "Do you think I am an angel?"
Kerth thinks for a moment. "You may have a point, but do not come running to me when she stabs you in the back."
It is impossible to see Azrael's face because of the mask, but one can imagine from his tone of voice that he is slightly annoyed. "She may stab you first." He looks around. "Now what do we do?"

Kerth brightens up considerably. "Well, there is another ship in port. I know the captain, and we could grab a ride with him."

Koravel groaned. "And you saw fit t' send us after t' Zhentarim ship before this one because….?"

"It would be more fun to take our own ship?"

Koravel rolled his eyes. "In any case, we can't leave Endellion behind. Hold this, Shael." He tosses Gil'rad to the barbarian, ignoring the storm of protest that this sent up from the sword, about being treated like so much refuse. Koravel was under the water before Gil'rad had completed his first sentence. Quite an accomplishment, considering how fast the sword could talk.

Under the water Endellion is a little trapped. The boat a kindly landed on top of her cloak, forcing her to abandon the garment in order to survive. She comes up for air, cursing profusely before diving back under again not only to avoid being burnt but also to retrieve her beloved longsword.

She sees her sword through the murky depths away from the boat. Determined not to leave the blade behind she swims for the sword, finding it wedged between two rocks from where the explosion had sent the blade flying and gripping the sword with both hands Endellion tries to tug the blade out from its resting place.

Koravel dives down under the water, and since his vision is unaffected by the water, he quickly finds Endellion, valiantly, but futiley trying to pull the sword out from the rocks. Pushing her to one side, he wraps both his hands around the sword and, placing his feet on the rocks, dislodges the weapon with a powerful tug. Grabbing the half-elf in his other arm, he swims up for the surface.
"Ye fool elf! Nae weapon is worth your life!" His face softens as he hands her back her sword. "Are ye hurt?"

Endellion grins taking the sword back gratefully.

"Hurt?" she shakes her head "A few bruises, nothing more... and thank you. It was very sweet of you to help, that sword means the world to me and I'd never leave it behind." She smiles. "Besides, it gave me a chance to try and live by my mother's creed - 'Live fast, die young and leave a beautiful corpse'. Errr... no offense, of course."

She smiles sweetly and kisses Koravel's cheek before swimming for shore.

"I seriously owe you a drink.... or twelve!" She shouts back to him. "Possibly even find you a lady friend for a night when we get to Baldurs Gate," she adds with a wink.

Koravel chuckles as he swims back to the shore behind Shree. When he steps out of the water, though, he feels slightly less weighted than when he went in. "Not again," Shree can hear him whisper. His arm is cut off at the elbow. But it looks more like it dropped off....
"Blast and damn you t' all of t' nine 'ells, Kethryl! If t' bloody coward..." He shakes himself, as if out of a dream. Turning, he looks out over the vast body of water, and shrugs his shoulders. "I suppose i'll have t' fight wit' one arm until T'rissiira gets back. Unless someone else is proficient in necromancy?"

When the ship exploded, the elf-like figure that had been fighting Endellion was thrown headfirst into the water. Sputtering and coughing, he came up and swam to the nearest shore. The group was stopped, waiting for the walking corpse and the fiendish half-elf to get back to shore. He slipped into the foliage, avoiding their prying eyes. A flash of his own green ones would have been the only thing someone would've spotted, even if they had been looking right at him.

Endellion is already out of the water and shaking off the excess when Koravel climbs out. She simply can't help herself and bursts out laughing when she sees Koravel is missing an arm without seeming to be in any discomfort.

"You're falling apart, old man," she giggles and makes her way to the water's edge where the waves have washed something closer to them. She fishes out the limb that she had spotted with her keen eyes and makes her way back to the undead half-elf. "But I doubt T'riss can help you I'm afraid. Can't it just be..." she holds the arm up where the hand falls limp comically "... stitched back on or something? I'm good with needles," she points to her own armor in explanation. "By the way, who is this Kethryl you...?"

Suddenly her eyes flick into the distance, sure she had seen someone watching them but she shakes her head, convinced she is simply being paranoid.

"I'll get you a new cask... and pay the next bar tab... give you a massage, breakfast in bed, my share of any spoils is yours from now onwards, find you a girlie for the night, I'll even provide the cream. Anything you want it's yours... and you can definitely call me by my first name for this," she pats her longsword's sheath lovingly. "We better find the others, they're over there somewhere and we don't want to miss the ship," she uses Koravel's arm to gesture in Shael and Azrael's direction, the hand forlornly flaps around a bit till she realizes what she is doing and stops.

"Doesn't it hurt?" she asks. Though filled with good-natured humor there is an underlying note of worry in the sharp green eyes.

"Nae much, Shree, it really—" Koravel is cut off as a large group of guards appear, who immediately start yelling at the pair, "Stop! You are under arrest!" The guards draw their swords and continue running towards them.

"Time t' leave this little party." Koravel grabbed Shree's hand with his good one, Shree keeping tight hold of his other arm, and the pair took off after Kerth, Shael, and Azrael.

Those three, however, have problems of their own. As they are about to board the ship, several crossbow bolts fly past them. "Going somewhere Kerth? That would make us really mad, seeing as we have been chasing you for a long time now. You are not getting away so easily." The voice came from an elf wearing dark leather armor and a black cloak, who is lounging against the side of a building near the ship. He has a short sword in his belt and is holding a hand crossbow in his hand. His friends are a mix of elves, half-elves and humans. There are perhaps a dozen of them, and they immediately start to reload their crossbows.
Kerth swung over the side of the ship, Shael and Azrael close behind. "Captain! Prepare to leave!"

The captain had already begun preparations, and turned to Kerth, signaling his agreement. "The other three had better hurry up!" The captain called after Kerth.

"There are only two others now, and I'm sure they're coming!" More crossbow bolts thudded into the side of the ship. Kerth swore under his breath.

--Interlude--

Eilsar and T'riss appear in the middle of a large glade, before them is a tall building, not nearly as threatening as most other mage towers, but no less impressive. The stone work is of a very high quality and the greenery of the forest around it only compliments it further. Above them, sitting on a balcony, a woman looks down at the newcomers and waves brightly to Eilsar before disappearing inside. A few seconds later, the ornate front door opens and a young half drow comes to the door.
"Greetings Ilphaonar, it has been a while," the Avariel says and the half drow smiles, letting the Avariel and the stranger in.
"Hello! Are you here to see grandpa?" he asks them both and Eilsar nods as the woman who had been on the balcony comes down the stairs behind the half-drow.
When they go inside, the lower level is open and well lit, yet at the same time feels very homely.
"And well met to you to Lillian, is your father in his study?" he asks, the woman is quite pretty and has long flowing dark-brown hair and eyes to match, but she is clearly the mother of the half-drow child who had answered the door.

"He is," she says, "Speak slowly with him Eilsar, he is rather dull this morning," she says.
"My thanks, are your father in law and husband also around?" he asks.

"They are walking at the moment, but will be back soon."
"Very well, thank you, I shall see you soon." He leads T'riss towards the stairs, at which point he turns around to her.
"After you," he offers, bowing to the bard.

T'riss frowns a bit, "Grandpa--Ah I suppose it has been a while, hasn't it? I keep forgetting how much faster humans age..."

T'riss walks quietly into the room, where she can see the top of a man's head above the back of a large chair. She steps up behind him and places her hand on the back of the chair.

"Jac, my friend. It is good to see you." Her eyes are full of an odd tenderness; sorrow intermingled with joy and friendship. She should have found a way to visit him more often, the years pass too quickly.

The old man in the chair had been staring into the fire and is startled when T'riss speaks; Eilsar comes into the room and clicks the door shut carefully behind him, before going to stand quietly by a window.

When Jac speaks, his calm voice, once so soft and gentle, yet so easily heard, is calm, but wheezing.
"T'rissiira.... my old friend, please, come into the fire light, my material sight is not what it once was..." he says. The man sitting in the high-backed chair is definitely Jac, but he is only a shadow of his former self.
The deep lines in his face show how he has aged, and his hair, while still long, is silvery grey and if the man where to stand up, it would easily reach his belt line. His dark brown eyes have the milky tell-tale signs of early stage cataracts and his eyelids seem heavy in his face.
"My word... I had almost forgotten how you looked..." he says, "Ironic that a once powerful master of time and space could do nothing to dodge age, and yet his friend has managed to miss it altogether..." he adds, a brief flicker of a smile comes to his old face.
"How long ago was it that I left you and the others? Thirty, forty prime years? How long since we first met in Sigil? I suspect it is only days to you..." he adds, looking at the crystal ball on the table beside his chair.
"I know what you are thinking, and what you shall say, but please... for old times sake... tell me, how you have fared?"

"Well, Jac. Well. Tymora keeps me busy, but I finally managed to devote more time to the animal breeding like I wanted. I take a contract from an outside party every once in a while." She smiles gently, "Even if I don't look my years, they still wear and I'm getting tired with the running about. Tymora insists I can come home to her whenever I wish, but I enjoy watching the passing of history too much. I've begun to write much of it up in collaboration with some of Oghma and Deneir's petitioners and such."

She places a hand on his arm, "I have missed you, old friend. And I know you know I'll say it, but I should have visited you more. How are you? And your family? Last time I saw your daughter she was a tot and now it looks as if she has her own! Your wife..." She hesitates, willing for Jac to fill in the blank.

There is still youthful energy in Jac's eyes as he looks up at his old friend.

"I may be old, but I can still see your guilt quite well, I hold nothing against you. I have seen how busy you have been, I watched you as you led Tarffynaonar to his new home, how happy you made him. Your actions set him up for life, and since that time, you have done so much more for so many more, and I am very grateful that you took the time to come with my Avariel friend just to visit an old man such as me."

"My family are doing fine, you met my daughter on your way up, and my grandson alongside her, my son in law and his parents you are yet to meet..." he says, "But they are already on their way here. Before they get here though, I wished that a small part of my will be fulfilled now, as It may not get done otherwise..." he smiles.

At that moment a pseudo dragon flies through the window and lands in the table, when Kaestraalin sees T'riss he clicks in excitement, still apparently as young as the first day they met.
"You remember my familiar?" Jac says as the small dragon hops up onto the back of the chair to greet T'riss in a more affectionate way; by playfully tugging at her clothing and pushing his head into her hand to receive stroking, he seemed more cat like than dragon....
"He is still young at heart, and it seems that being resurrected made him eternally youthful, with an energy I can no longer equal, so he spends most of his time now with Ilphaonar," he adds, flicking through the pages of a book that had somehow come into his hands.
He opens it on a page with a set of musical instruments that look to be made of crystal clear glass with delicate silver patterns weaving across their surface.
"You are a bard; I am sure you have heard of the wonders of the angelic sounds that are the celestial songs..." he says showing her the image.

T'riss gets up and moves over to the chest. She slowly raises the lid and looks truly awed for a moment.

Reverently, she shifts the padded cloth about and lifts up a glass mandolin...strange for a string instrument to be made of glass, but many such things are possible on the slopes of Celestia. Slipping on the charm bracelet, she runs her fingers across the strings.

Complete and sheer bliss shine on her face and she closes her eyes, savoring the last reverberations. A tear shines in the corner of her eye, but doesn't quite fall. "Ah, my dear Jac...You are too good to an old tiefling." She gently places the mandolin back into the chest. "A moment..." She pulls out a piece of parchment and scribbles a note across it with a pen, then rolls it up and sticks it into the lock-loop.

T'riss places her hand on the chest and mutters a few syllables and the chest disappears. "Hroli will take care of them. She was rather fond of you, you know. You were a good guest, unlike some others we've had recently..." T'riss shakes her head and rises to walk over to Jac.

"Thank you, my friend. For the gifts and for thinking of me." She places a kiss on his forehead.

"I hope they bring you as much pleasure as it has been to me to have known you..." Jac says.

The door opens slowly as Eilsar slides back in, this time accompanied by Lillian, Ilphaonar, a handsome drow male who must be her husband, and his parents. The drow's father seems overly familiar, made all the more evident by his graceful walk, his blue eyes fall upon T'riss and a bright smile appears on his face.

"It has been many long years since last we saw each other..." the drow says and Jac gives T'riss a knowing smile.
"T'riss, you remember Tarffynaonar, that young drow we found near the temple of Pelor, now the proud father of my son in law, and his lovely wife; the daughter of the Eilistraeean priestess you left him with. The strapping young lad is their son, Faen'fyre. He is my son in law and father of Ilphaonar." he smiles as he lists the names, "My family..."

The now much matured Tarffynaonar walks towards T'riss, embracing her tightly as old friends often do when they meet.

"You are looking well my friend..." he says, his common tongue is perfect, even though he does not wear the ring enchanted by Jac all those years ago.

T'riss embraces Tarf in return, laughing "Tarfy you rapscallion! Should have seen traces of you in your grandbuck, had I thought to look! It's wonderful to see you." T'riss takes a moment and inclines her head to the Priestess' daughter, "It is lovely to see you as well, little one. Although, not so little anymore, I suppose." Her eyes glitter, "And your son! Such a fine lad! Ah, I shall not fawn and flutter too much, I always hated it when my elders did so."

She steps back and looks at them all, smiling, "Such a fine family. Jac, you're a lucky one. A lucky one indeed."

"Luck? Come now T'rissiira, you know I am a man of fate." he says,

The priestess's daughter smiles brightly to T'riss,
"Greetings it has indeed been a long time," she says, her pale red eyes fall upon her own son and then her grandson. Tarffynaonar laughs along with T'riss.
"Both Jac and I were surprised to hear of our children's romantic encounter, and more surprised when we met the parents," he says, smiling.

Eilsar looks quite guilty as he interrupts the conversation.
"Please, forgive me, but I must be on my way, old friend..." he says and Jac nods slowly.
"You have done as I asked, Eilsar of the Lost Peaks, I am grateful and I can get T'riss back to her companions from here. Thank you once more."
"Very well, farewell old friend, I am glad to have known you," Eilsar says. "And I shall of course visit regularly..." he adds to the seer's family, "And farewell T'rissiira, fine lady of song." Eilsar bows to the bard before walking to the balcony and taking off, leaving no sound or sign that he was ever there.

Jac looks over his family one more time then at T'riss again.
"I appreciate that you came here to visit me T'riss, but I shall understand if you are keen to return to your friends."

T'riss smiles sadly, "I'd love to linger, old friend, but I'm traveling with Shael, a Jergalite, a Lathandarite and a Living Corpse." She rolls her eyes, "And we're hunting undead."

She winks at Jac, "Tell me, Jac, is it Fate that my patience be tried so? Or just Tymora's Luck. If the latter, I hope My Lady is laughing."

T'riss bows down and hugs Jac, kissing his cheeks. "I'll come by after this little escapade. It shouldn't take long."

Jac smiles. "I feel no qualms in letting you know what I know; your life's path is full of challenges, but what makes you so unique is your ability to survive it all and come out all the stronger and wiser for it. It is your lady's favor that helps you through it so often, yet you are also more powerful than any person I have ever known; for you have friends and people who care for you. There is nothing that makes one more powerful than friends."
Tarffynaonar retrieves a quartz crystal from a small box nearby and gives it to T'riss.
"There are stones throughout this forest which protect it and all who dwelt within, to pass them, you must have on your possession one of the stones that grow in the caves beneath the waterfall in the heart of the forest. With this I will be able teleport you out of here. You might want to be ready for a fight."
Jac raises his hand in a spell, and weaves a pattern through the air. As T'riss begins to shimmer, Jac smiles at her. "Oh, one last thing, a warning if you will; the man with the wild eyes... be wary of him, but not afraid, he is more complex than you may first realize..."

T'riss half-turns, and starts to ask something, but Jac, with a grin, finishes his spell, and the room faded from before her eyes.