Despite a dreadful case of homesickness, Summer feels strangely relieved to be clear of the Mere and its shadows. She walks farther still, letting both the temperate breeze and the not-so-temperate words of her new companion wash over her quietly. The road ahead looks clear, at least up to where the disgruntled dwarf scouts - conveniently out of earshot. Neeshka has been talking for what feels like hours, though the slow crawl of the mild autumn sun says otherwise.
"Anyway, so after helping myself to their collection plate after a particularly moving sermon, I decided to see what else I could help myself to."
"Oh," Summer replies noncommittally, hoping that this time it's not just a pause for breath, but the end of the story. She glances back to where the young wolf shadows them, collecting her thoughts. The tiefling poured out her life story but never answered Summer's real question - the one she's too embarrassed to ask. Why does she feel a strange aversion to this young woman, who's been nothing but friendly to her? "About the tiefling thing…"
"Yeah, what gave it away? The tail or the horns?" Neeshka's response has the tone of a practiced routine, but suddenly she slows down and continues, "Wait... don't tell me I'm the first tiefling you've met?" As Summer shrugs helplessly, Neeshka awkwardly pats her on the shoulder. "Oh! Well, don't worry, it's perfectly normal. Just look at my arm: goose bumps all over! Lower planes and upper planes don't mix." She grins at Summer's confused look. "But you get used to it."
This stream of words leaves Summer feeling adrift. "I'm sorry, lower and upper?"
Neeshka stops walking, and after a beat Summer does the same. "Wait…" the tiefling says again, in the same disbelieving tone. "You know you're an aasimar, right? No?" A headshake confirms it and Neeshka sputters. "No? How is that possible? Where have you been?"
"West Harbor. I haven't traveled before," Summer says matter-of-factly. She adjusts the weight of the crossbow on her shoulder, wondering again how they managed to talk her into lugging the heavy thing around.
"Well, hells. That's a new one." Neeshka starts walking again, forcing Summer to do the same or fall behind. "You have celestial blood somewhere in your line. Probably several generations removed, but it's there. Trust me, I can feel it." She eyes Summer dubiously. "Nobody's ever mentioned this before?"
"No." Summer shakes her head, as if the word isn't enough. "But I suppose it could have something to do with my father. No one knows who he is."
"That seems like something your mother would know."
"I'm sure she did."
"Oh." Neeshka continues unabashed, "But hey, growing up without having it shoved in your face musta been nice. I know I coulda done with a few less calls of goat-girl. A few hundred less. Hmm." She eyes Summer again. "Course, I have a tail and horns. That's a bit more noticeable than creepy eyes. I mean, lovely eyes. Lovely, that's it. Not creepy at all, nope." She looks away and changes the subject. "By the way, I'm thinking we shouldn't mention our little 'encounter' with those soldiers back there to the people at Fort Locke."
"Why not? Maybe they can stop it. At the very least, someone should be warned."
"It might attract the wrong sort of attention for us."
Summer looks at Neeshka worriedly, not sure if she should trust this self-professed thief. But whether these misgivings spring from a clash of blood or something more solid she cannot tell. She reluctantly sets them aside as they come around the last hill and catch up to Khelgar, waiting for them at the approach to Fort Locke.
Galen's wagon is parked just inside the front gate, and the merchant himself is speaking to a man in uniform as they approach. He spies their group and waves them over. "Here they are now, Cormick. Without them I'd have lost my wagon, perhaps even my life."
Summer waves Sorrel back as she steps over to Galen. Her eyes widen in recognition of the man beside him. Cormick is a legend in West Harbor and all the more fresh in her mind after Harvest Fair. Staring openly, she barely notices Neeshka hanging back behind her.
"Galen told me what you did for him," Cormick addresses them. "Glad you managed to keep him in one piece. Say…" He pauses, looking at Summer - or more accurately, at her eyes. "You look familiar. You're not from West Harbor, are you?"
Summer nods reluctantly.
"You're Daeghun's foster child aren't you? I remember you. That little girl who used to follow me around?"
Summer does her best to ignore it when Neeshka starts snickering quietly behind her, focusing on answering Cormick instead. "All the children did that, you were the local hero."
"Right, but you were the only one who'd follow me out into the Mere. Spent a lot of time out there, didn't you? What was that nickname the other children gave you?"
Summer bites her lip, offering nothing. Neeshka is still laughing; even Khelgar and Galen are starting to look amused. At least Cormick seems to have forgotten…
"Swamp monster," he suddenly announces with a grin. "That was it, wasn't it?"
"Swamp monster?" Neeshka echoes with amusement, from her shielded position.
"Bevil' fault," Summer mumbles. The breeze suddenly feels a lot cooler where it touches her face.
Cormick takes pity on her and moves the conversation along. "Imagine running into you here! How's the old man nowadays?"
"He's… Daeghun. As always."
"Still keeps to himself, does he?" Cormick turns his head, as if looking at the road to West Harbor could bring the town more clearly to mind. "The death of his wife really hit him hard. Changed him a great deal."
"So I've heard," Summer replies awkwardly.
"He seems to have done a good job raising you. Galen was just telling me how you and your dwarven friend saved his life, or at least his livelihood. So tell me, what are you doing so far away from West Harbor?"
Summer's hand drifts towards her pack, almost protectively. But it's Cormick. "Daeghun sent me to bring something to Neverwinter."
"You'll be passing through Highcliff then. Be careful. From what I've been hearing from the refugees, bandits own the roads now."
Summer nods, an acknowledgement of the warning, though her thoughts remain fixed on home. What would Daeghun be doing now? Off hunting, or helping rebuild? And Bevil? Probably helping his mother. Retta, the woman who - despite everything - wished Summer well as she left and asked one simple favor.
Following that train of thought, Summer asks, "Do you know if that's where Lorne Starling went? Neverwinter, I mean. Not Highcliff."
"Lorne?" Cormick pauses. "Haven't heard from him since he first arrived in Neverwinter some years back. He was still upset with me over what he calls trickery when we competed for the Harvest Cup."
Summer nods. It's a story she's heard Georg tell countless times. Cormick continues, "A good man, though a little hot headed. Moved to Neverwinter a short while after I joined the Watch. I tried to recruit him, but I guess he found the Neverwinter Greycloaks more glamorous. I poked around a little on Retta's behalf after the war with Luskan, but no one seems to know what happened to him. I doubt he deserted, and I wouldn't have the heart to tell Retta that he fell in battle. Her life's hard enough as it is."
"Oh…" Summer replies, disappointed by the news. Her tone grows sober. "You weren't planning on visiting?"
"I'm mainly here just to make sure Galen got back safely. He's crazy to make that trip every year." He nods at the merchant and is rewarded with some grumbling in response. "I'd also heard rumors that the garrison here had stopped its patrols. Figured I'd look into it while I was down here. Good thing too. It's an absolute mess. No patrols, bandits all over the roads."
"West Harbor was attacked… right before I left."
"By the gods, I knew it! I told Vallis he was putting the village at risk, but he wouldn't listen!"
Summer can't help laying a hand on her pack again. "I don't think patrols would have stopped it."
"Well they certainly couldn't have hurt. And I'll bet the refugees here at the fort wouldn't have minded a few patrols along the roads either."
Khelgar - quiet while they spoke of boring non-fighting stuff - enters the conversation now. "Not if they were anything like the soldiers we ran across!"
Neeshka groans.
"Soldiers?" Cormick asks.
"They said they were from Fort Locke," Summer answers evenly. "Hunting bandits, but they wanted to kill us all for the bounty."
"Unbelievable. You need to tell Vallis about this, maybe he'll listen to you."
"Me?" Summer asks, though Khelgar is nodding already.
"Well he certainly won't listen to me. I've tried. I just don't have the patience for all of his rules talk though. Guess that's why I've never been promoted to-"
Neeshka suddenly cuts him off, tugging Summer away before Cormick can question it. "Don't worry, we'll handle this," she calls over her shoulder.
Too startled to protest, Summer allows herself to be pulled into the outpost, wondering what Neeshka could be getting them into now.