The temple was bustling with activity this morning. Priests and priestesses were going to and fro, some for healing, others for providing other services that the Temple of Sune had to offer. Sune, known as Lady Firehair, was the deity of beauty, with governance also over love. Her dogma primarily concerned love based on outward beauty, with primary importance placed upon loving people who responded to the Sunite's appearance. The priestesses had many duties, from providing the physical love that Sune desired to bestow, to healing the sick and wounded. The priests also aided in healing the injured, but some also preached Her doctrine to the masses whenever the High Priestess could not do it herself. That was the case today, for the High Priestess was with child, and going into labor.

The High Priestess, who was named Arva Loreweaver, was in her chambers, attended by two priestesses and a midwife. She was propped up on her bed, her legs were spread apart, and she was holding the hands of her priestesses, while the midwife was helping the baby to emerge into the world. Arva's screams were muffled from outside ears, as the walls were insulated with a soundproof formula that was requisitioned by the local alchemists in Neverwinter, due to the nature of some of the priestesses of the Temple, and the need to allow the patients in the medical ward to get proper rest without being disturbed.

Arva leaned back against her pillows, panting heavily after giving another push. Her priestesses were on either side of her, helping to hold her legs up, and the midwife looked up at her again. "Give me another push, my Lady! The child is almost here!"

Arva took a deep breath, grit her teeth, grabbed onto the bedsheets soaked with sweat, and pushed with all her might. She had been in labor for little over an hour, and the strain of it was beginning to become evident on her face, but she gave it everything she got. As she pushed, she gave another scream, and the midwife bent back down between Arva's legs. Sure enough, the baby's head, covered with the placenta, emerged, and the midwife hooked her fingers under the baby to guide it out. She peeled back the placenta, revealing the baby's head and face, and pulled it out the rest of the way. When the child emerged into the world, the midwife immediately began drying it off with a clean towel and reached into the mouth, pulling out any blockage that prevented the child from breathing. As soon as that was done, the baby coughed and let out a loud scream, louder than Arva gave before.

"It is a boy, my Lady, and he has a fine set of lungs, I might add!" The midwife wrapped the baby in a warm blanket and brought him to his mother, who shed tears of joy and cried as she held her newborn son close to her bosom.

"Oh, he is so beautiful! I have never imagined ever holding something so beautiful in all my life!" The baby was still crying, but he was beginning to calm down in his mother's arms. She looked up at the midwife with a joyous smile on her face. "Thank you so much,"

"It is the least I could do for you, my Lady," the midwife smiled and gently patted Arva's hand, "but now there is still some clean-up to do."

"Yes, of course," Arva smiled down at her son, who had fallen asleep. "My son… My little Justin Loreweaver." She planted a tender kiss on Justin's forehead before handing him to one of her priestesses. The priestess took the child and brought him over to the basinet that had been previously prepared, while the midwife proceeded to clean and stitch Arva.

Outside of the city of Neverwinter, in the outlying farms, a halfling named Furfoot Cotton was tending to his fields, which had yielded a rather good harvest this year. Tymora had certainly smiled on the fields this time, while in previous years the farmers had a rather tough time getting even a decent harvest. Most of the outlying farms were occupied by humans, but even a fair amount was occupied by the halflings, and both the humans and halflings got along with each other, better than they did with some of the other races, such as the elves and half-orcs. The dwarves were an okay bunch, particularly because they could make the best ale that the local tavern could ever present, and they were a lot of fun to hold contests against, but their generally gruff nature made their company become tiresome after a while.

Furfoot was in the process of harvesting his patch of cabbage when a loud whistle caught his ear. He looked up from his work to see a group of halflings approaching, with a pony-drawn wagon in tow. The wagon had some cargo in the back, covered with a rather large tarp and tied down with some rope. One of the halflings came up to Furfoot with a big grin. "Heya, boss! We got some good cargo today, and the boys and I were wondering if you would look at it?"

Furfoot sighed and turned to the halfling. "Kidd… how many times have I told you not to call me that, especially out in the open? Also, you know that I left that business some time ago, so why should I have anything to do with what you've got in that wagon?"

"Well, we all still respect you, and you've always had the best eye for things like this. We were hoping to get some good cash out of this"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Kidd. If I look, will you get out of here? I don't want any trouble with the authorities, especially now that there's a decent harvest"

"Sure thing, Mr. Cotton. Whatever you say"

Furfoot set his hoe against the wooden fence around his garden and approached the back of the wagon. "Hmm… this seems to be quite a lot of cargo. Where did you get this?"

"There was a house about half a day's journey out west from here. Seemed to be alone, and out of sight and earshot from anyone else, so we thought we would score something good. Though…when we got there, it seemed that someone got there before we did, but nothing was taken"

Furfoot peeked from behind the wagon, raising an incredulous eyebrow at Kidd. "Nothing was taken. Then how do you know it was hit before you got there?"

"The entire house… Boss… it was burnt to the ground"

Furfoot blinked in surprise and disbelief. "Burnt? Was anyone in there?"

Kidd nodded slowly. "The man and his wife were there, or whom I assume were the man and wife. Both bodies were scorched, but they still had their marriage bands on their fingers. Both of those were burnt, as well, but they never melted. But there was something…unnatural about that whole scene"

"You mean besides the fact the property was burnt, both people killed, and yet, somehow, their belongings were miraculously unscathed? How do you explain that, Kidd?"

"They had a cellar. All this came from there"

"Fair enough"

"But it seemed that the fire was… I don't know. Magical? There was a hint of the scent of brimstone"

Furfoot lifted the tarp to look underneath at the cargo. "Most likely the work of a warlock. The carnage was too precise to have been the work of a dragon. But why would a warlock just…destroy a random home? This doesn't make sense, at all."

"I can't say for certain, but I would assume that someone was looking for something and couldn't find it, so they got rid of something that was no longer of use to them?"

Furfoot grunted in agreement as he continued looking through the cargo under the tarp. There were a lot of freshly picked vegetables, along with some valuable pieces of artwork. The farmers were humble yet seemed to have enough money to buy fancy artwork. Either that, or these were inherited. Either way, these would be able to fetch a good price. After further inspection, Furfoot came across baskets of fine clothing, which caused him to believe that these humble farmers were not quite what they seemed. He turned to Kidd. "Hey, Kidd, how big was their house?"

"It was a decent sized one, to be sure. Not too much bigger than an ordinary farmhouse"

So, I was correct, thought Furfoot. Either the man or his wife was of some noble birth, and they wanted to live an ordinary life among the commoners. I can understand that…

As he continued looking through the cargo, he noticed that one of the baskets suddenly moved. He stared at it for a minute, and it moved again. He then reached out and dragged the basket closer to him and gingerly opened it. Looking inside, he saw a bundle wrapped in swaddling cloth, and the bundle moved and made a sound like a baby crying. Furfoot reached in and moved the cloth aside, and he inhaled sharply as, sure enough, there was a human baby in the cloth. The baby was a girl, and not two days old, by the look of her. Her skin was still a little flaky in some spots, and her hands and feet still had a very light shade of blue. The baby opened her eyes and looked at Furfoot, and then she started crying. He hesitated, not sure what to do. He had never taken care of a kid, much less a baby, but he could see that the child needed some care. He took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders, and lifted the baby out of the basket and covered her in the cloth again. He then stepped away from the wagon, and Kidd turned the corner.

"What was that noise?" he asked. "Sounded like a baby crying"

"That's exactly what it was" answered Furfoot, still holding the baby in his arms. "Did you know that she was in the basket?"

"What? What basket? No one heard any noise from any baskets, I swear!"
"Calm down, Kidd, I'm not accusing anyone of anything…yet. Take the wagon to the hideout, and tell our scouts to keep an eye out for anyone with a penchant for arson or magical destruction"

"Our scouts? Are you coming back, then, Boss?"

"I haven't fully decided yet," he said, looking at the sleeping baby's face, "but I have a feeling that times are changing, and Neverwinter will need all hands that can hold a weapon soon. For now, I'll remain on the farm, taking care of Mina."

"Who's Mina?"

"The baby" he nodded to the baby in his arms "I'm calling her Mina, and I'll be taking care of her from now on"

"How will you explain her to the adoption agency? You know they'll ask questions"

"I'll think of something. Right now, she needs to be fed before I do anything else, so I'll take care of that. You head to the hideout and carry out my orders, Kidd"

Kidd grins and salutes "Yes, Boss!" He turns to the other halflings on standby. "Alright, lads! You heard the Boss! Move out!" They then get the wagon moving, and soon were out of sight. Furfoot, meanwhile, turns and heads inside the house, looking down at the girl.

"Something tells me you are not quite what you seem. Regardless, I'll do my best to take care of you, Mina Cotton." With those words, he shuts the door behind him, and from that day forward, things would never be the same, and events would unfold that would test family bonds, friendships... and the love between a knight and a farm girl.