"...We're digging you out," Gale finished and turned as Rolan climbed up beside him. "That's not one of our... family...It looks like a sun elf."
"Let me see," the father-to-be interrupted, pushing the boy aside in his rush to see who was in the blocked cave. His heart leaped at the sight of his lady's pale gold eyes. He all but ignored the boy he'd been rude to, who looked at him with sullen eyes and then punched him a good one in the arm.
Rolan rubbed his arm and said, "Hey, sorry about that. You alright?" Before the boy could answer, he looked into the narrow opening and said, "Well, hello there, sunshine. How in the devil did you get in dere?" He looked at his wife with a well-what-do-you-know smile.
"Never you mind, Rolan Edgewater," Lil's voice drifted up from the hole—She was fussing, her eyes ablaze. Gale drew back a bit, his face a mask of confusion. "You hear me? Hurry it up now, get us out of here." Her eyes were now on his, her smile widened. She was enjoying herself.
Rolan's reply made the elf boy's eyes get even larger. "Hmm, I don't know," looking at Gale while a question formed in his mind. "What's in it for us? It's going to be a lot of hard work to dig you out. That hole will have to be twice as large now." He said, waiting for the inevitable explosion of feminine outrage.
None came. She looked back and forth between the two conspirators for a moment and said, "I will give you your lives, that is more than you scum deserve," with all the venom she could muster. Her evil smile would make a Valsharess proud.
Stage drama, he though, then said to his moon elf friend, "Don't mind her, she's just kidding." He knew his wife well enough to know when to quit. It was time to get back to work. "All right, I guess the others will want to get out. Let's get a move on my friend," he said, starting to throw the larger stones to the left and right.
Rolan and Gale had the opening large enough to allow the little ones to escape in short order. With just a little more work, Lil was able to exit standing up. Their affectionate embrace confused Gale even more; He didn't know any elves who acted like these two. Maybe it was their human half showing.
They were all gathered outside their former prison. Lillith was the only one enjoying the bright sunlight. The dark elf little ones, including Clu, were wearing hooded robes to shield their sensitive eyes from the daylight. After a few weeks of careful exposure to more and more light, they would be fine.
After telling of their encounters with the trolls, Rolan shouldered his weapons, a bale of cured hides, and led them up the trail toward Ember. Gale followed with a load of his own, a shoulder bag of items that belonged to his brother and sisters. They all set off with renewed hope. The last leg of their long journey would take less than a day to complete.
The weary travelers rounded the last bend in the road to Port Llast just as the setting sun touched the far horizon. Most of the market stalls here were deserted, the sellers had gone home. A kindly old man closing up for the day, gave them directions to the orphanage after supplying meat pies to feed the hungry little ones. He graciously refused their offer of gold, but accepted their profuse thanks. Fortified in both body and spirit by his generosity, the ragged little group made their way to the waif's home—Their new home.
Lillith, with Kharmah riding on her shoulders-She was too tired to walk-was heartened when their destination drew into sight. It was a large, rambling, clapboard seacoast-built house on a fieldstone foundation, painted an off-color eggshell white with black shutters. It looked like it was painstakingly maintained.
When they'd all gathered in the entrance hall, a stern voice from the room on the right arrested their attention. "May I help you with something?" the voice of a woman in the room asked.
That voice was familiar, stirring memories for Lillith. Can it be? She wondered. When she stepped through the door, it was like she'd stepped back in time. Seeing her Matron again, after all this time, caused her to cry out, turning every head in the hall.
"Lillith, as I live and breathe. The Gods, it's good to see you girl." The wizened gold dwarf stepped into her former charge's embrace.
Out in the hall, Rolan couldn't believe his ears. The ogress? After all this time? She must be as old as Oghma by now.
When he entered the room, Lil and the matron looked up. "Well now, Master Edgewater, it is good to see you haven't managed to kill yourself... yet. Are you responsible for this?" She eyed him suspiciously and pointed at his wife's oversized belly.
"Aye, Mistress, I am," Rolan answered proudly, squaring his ample shoulders.
"And do you have a name for my grandchild?" she asked, staking her claim as his mother-in-law. She was expecting him to hem and haw and mumble something about if it's a boy or a girl...
He looked at Lil, who smiled benignly at his uneasiness. "Yes, Mistress, her name will be Melyanna Edgewater," he answered quickly, feeling like he was back in grade school.
"Her name?" she asked skeptically. A look at Lil's knowing smile made her nod and say, "It appears you've done well, lad, carry on then." She dismissed him by turning abruptly and walking to her door. She went out into the hall, clapping her hands and saying, "What do we have here?"
The next morning Lil almost tripped over her husband and the moon elf boy sitting on the front steps. They appeared to be in a serious discussion, and it abruptly ended when they noticed her. "Time to eat, guys," she said and went back inside. Lil didn't waste time when there were chores waiting to be done.
"So, you're not staying here?" Rolan asked, he didn't understand how a child as young as Gale would be wandering alone in the wilds north of Neverwinter.
"No, I'm going with you," he repeated his earlier statement. "I was looking for you and your wife when I ran into Mistress D'nai and the twins."
"Isn't this where we should be?" he asked, mystified. Neither he nor Lil knew where they were going. "Why were you looking for us?"
"I have to take you somewhere," he replied. "I can't tell you why..." he looked up at Rolan, a beseeching look on his face,"Trust me."
"I can do that," he said, standing up. "Let's eat, then we'll see about where we need to go."
"Here, smell this," his wife stuck another bottle filled with some sweet-smelling extract under his nose. "What do you think?"
"Makes me sneeze, then I wanna puke," Rolan snapped. This was the third essence his wife had tried. By now they all smelled the same to him. Why doesn't she just pick one? he thought, really not in the mood to be marketing.
They had left the orphanage just a short while ago, fortified with a good meal and eager to be on their way. The Matron profusely thanked them for their help and the generous donation of gold. The bale of hides Rolan carried would fetch a fair price at the armorer's shop next door, adding to the waif's home's account considerably.
They'd passed the town well when Lil's eyes lit up, "Rolan, is that Nya?" she asked, pointing to a stall nestled in a corner between two residences. It turned out to be the herbalist from Highcliff who'd moved on to find better business in a larger town. After getting re-acquainted, his wife found a bottle of balsam for her hair and was now looking for what she called a scent.
"You're not listening to me," Lil's protest was almost a whine. "Which one was the best?" Her efforts to include her husband in her shopping just irritated him.
"I've got some more over here," Nya said, pointing to a shelf along the back wall of her open air shop. "There's even Gardenia here, if you want it." She looked thoughtful. "It sells for more, but I'll discount it today for old time's sake." She winked at Rolan when she said this.
After they'd made their purchase, Nya thanked them, wished them a safe journey, and invited them to come back and visit when they had more time. It seemed to Rolan that she missed the small village that she once called home.
At the next intersection, they took the road leading east, out of town. Gale did not seem to have any problem keeping up, he kept pace walking easily beside Rolan and Lil.
They'd come to an intersection marked by a four bladed sign. To their left lay the city of Luskan. To the right, the City of Skilled Hands—Neverwinter. Straight ahead was a narrower cart-track marked as The Neverwinter Wood. The moon elf boy took the latter to the 'wood, not even slowing his pace.
After following this track for about an hour, the boy found an even narrower path to the right that ascended a gentle slope. At the end of this trail, he pulled aside the branches of a willow tree to reveal the mouth of a cave.
"We can rest here for awhile," the boy said with relief, sitting on a rock in the shade. "The portal is just a short way inside, we're almost there."
Gale was standing at the end of the passage looking down at a golden circular rune painted on the floor of the cave. He pointed to a word etched in fine silver script on the cave wall; Temple.
"Are you sure this is the way," Rolan was skeptical. He wasn't entirely sure this young moon elf knew where they should go.
"Aye," the boy said with a nod toward Lil. "The Chosen One is expected at the temple. They are awaiting her arrival."
"I'll just wait here then," Rolan's temper was fraying. "Maybe I could find something useful to do."
"I think we all should enter this portal," their elven guide intoned, looking at Rolan with a touch of impatience. "I'm sure this leads to your next trial." Obviously he knew more about this strange pair of half-elves than he was willing to reveal.
Lil rolled her honey colored eyes at them both and stepped onto the rune circle, promptly disappearing without a sound.
After Gale followed her to their unknown destination, Rolan sighed, "Well, here goes nothing." And that's exactly what it was—Nothing happened. He turned a complete circle, stomping on the rune to no avail. When he stepped off the marker, a woman's voice advised, Astalder Edgewater, your trial lies with the forgotten little ones.
Forgotten ones? his mind drew a blank, then it dawned on him; The orphanage at Port Llast. It must be... I've gotta go back.
"This way, Arwen en Amin," Gale walked the Chosen One by the hand up a winding leaf strewn path leading to a broad terrace cut into the rock of the hillside. When she stopped at the marble entryway, a sharp intake of her breath made him look up at her and smile. He understood. Although he had been to this Temple of the Moon many times, its grandeur always seemed new, somehow different to him every time he returned.
Lillith paused at the marble steps leading to the portico. Unsure of herself, she hesitated, her attention riveted to the statue placed directly in front of the open door leading to the Lunarium , an open roofed alter to Sehanine Moonbow.
The statue was a finely detailed image of a female warrior, hewn entirely in white marble, wearing elven chainmail topped with a Bladesinger's tabard. Her bow was slung on her back, her longsword and her dagger were sheathed; She was at peace. Her arms were raised in welcome to the faithful followers entering this temple.
As she traveled the path many elven had taken at their life's end, Lillith's concern for her husband sharpened. "Where's Rolan, shouldn't he be here?" she asked, not wanting to continue without him.
"His trial is unfinished, My Lady," Gale explained. "As soon as I deliver you to our Lunar Lady's Heavenly Starsinger, I will return to Last Port to assist him." He spoke in an ageless voice that somehow didn't fit his small stature. "We will meet you here at his trial's conclusion." He, once again, took her hand and they ascended the few steps to the portico.
The woman who stepped from behind Sehanine's graven image possessed the unearthly beauty of one of The Lunar Lady's own. She was a model of moon elven femininity, with jet black hair held in place by a fine silver diadem. Deep blue eyes had a depth that would challenge any bard to describe. Her silver-white diaphanous gown, gathered at the waist with a silver lace sash, revealed a mature, yet lithe figure. On her feet were simple woven sandals.
Unaware of her own beauty, Lillith sighed. Surely this angelic creature of intimidating presence wasn't waiting for her, despite what her child-guide had said.
"Lady Starsinger, may I present My Lady Lillith, Our Chosen One?" the moon elf boy announced. His precise bow was enchanting for one so small. Lil couldn't help, but smile.
"Thank you, sentinel," the priestess' smile reached her voice when she spoke to the little one. "How goes the Trial of the Father?"
"It goes well, My Lady. We'll see its conclusion very soon, I think," Gale replied. "With your leave, I'll return to his side. He's doing pretty well on his own, though." His compliment was for Lil's benefit.
"I will see you when you return then, farewell." With that, she turned and took Lillith's hands in her own. "Welcome to our Temple of the Moon, Lady Chosen One." The priestess' kiss on her forehead swept away all doubts. "Come with me, we've been awaiting your arrival," she said, leading the way to a world of wonder.
Thank the gods that harpy is gone, she'd had just about enough of that tight-fisted witch. Her last customer glared at her once more before turning the corner. Nya's uncharitable, unspoken thought would have embarrassed her had she been in a better mood. Damned it all, just when she was getting caught up financially, business dried up and she had to scratch and claw for every cursed copper. The friendly shopkeeper image she worked so hard to keep didn't seem to work very well here in Port Llast. These sophisticated town dwellers took pleasure in taking something for nothing and pushing one out of the way in the process. She sighed, Septimund, why did you leave me? She'd never felt so alone.
The herbalist leaned over the counter and looked to the right at the young man walking her way. Taking a bottle from the shelf on her right, she turned it up and touched a finger to its unstoppered top. A touch to each pulse point on her throat, just under the jawline was enough for her purpose. He won't know what hit him, Nya thought with glee. She loosened the top button on her bodice, and leaned on the counter just as Rolan walked by.
"Hello there, Rolan," Nya purred, shifting slightly to give him a better look at her wares. "It's good to see you again. Can I... get you something?" Her sleepy eyes held promise.
"Oh, Hiya Nya," He said, using an old familiar greeting that started when she lived in the village of Highcliff. Her feral smile widened at his unabashed stare and distracted grin.
Her pick-up line was interrupted when a clumsy half-orc brute of a sailor pushed past the entranced half-elf, and steadied him with one large gray-green hand. "Excuse me, lad," the brute intoned in a cultured rumble. "Steady on there—Can you point the way to the orphanage, like a good lad?" His glowing amber eyes crawled over the amorous shopkeeper. He looked as if he wouldn't mind sampling her wares as well.
Rolan looked around as if he'd just awakened. Pointing to their right, he said, "Just past the town well, on the left side of the street. You can't miss it." He turned to a disappointed looking Nya. "Good to see you again, my lady, take care of yourself," he said with a wave and set off once again.
"Give my love to your wife," She called to the retreating figure, giving Rolan a hesitant, half hearted wave. She frowned and looked up when a shadow fell over her.
The sailor was leaning over her, his menace was plain. "The Doomguide sends his greetings, my lady. He promises to return to one who is faithful... someday." he rumbled in a just-you-and-me basso profundo. The sun felt good on her face and arms when the giant left her and strode off past the well. It took quite a while for it to chase away the chill.
Neither the shop-keeper nor Rolan observed the giant duck behind the well house and a few moments later, a small elven child emerge after kneeling and murmuring a prayer to Sehanine Moonbow, begging for forgiveness for his intervention.
The orphanage was silent when Rolan approached. The windows were not shuttered, but there was a deserted, empty feeling that wasn't here just yesterday. Why weren't there any children playing in the fenced yard? When he finally entered, he found out why.
The small rooms to the left and right of the entry hall were closed and locked, as if they'd been under siege. The door ahead, that he knew led to a large open common room, was ajar. Stifled moans and childish sobs reached out to him from that room.
There were two groups of young ones here. None of them were the dark elves he and his wife had brought here for refuge yesterday. The room was more of a mess than the usual lived-in look that active healthy children gave to a playroom. Someone had gone mad here. Broken furniture, clothes and dishes were mixed in with the usual litter.
"Are you all right?" he asked a half-elf girl, just short of her majority, who was trying to console the disturbed little ones around her. Her firm nod and defiant lift of her chin told Rolan, he could depend on her. "Who did this?" her asked, not trying to restrain his anger.
"It's him," she said shrilly, pointing to a door in the far corner. "He's drunk... Mistress can't do a thing about him, so he does whatever he pleases."
None of the children seemed to be hurt, they were just badly frightened. After making sure, Rolan strode to the door and yanked it open. The room had two sets of double bunks and looked like a cyclone had touched down inside. Clothes, furniture and empty spirit bottles lay everywhere. In the bottom bunk in the right corner lay a boy that was almost as big as a man. His ragged snoring proved he was no threat.
Rolan made a quick decision. There were no windows in this room, it was once an oversized closet, maybe a pantry. It would make a fairly good improvised cell. When he stepped back out, two bolt braces on the wall beside the door made his mind up. After a quick search, he found a timber leaning against a back wall that would work.
With the bar across the door, the savage was effectively locked in. Rolan turned to the children, who seemed to have settled down. "Let's leave him in there. Don't open this, no matter what he does or says." Several young heads nodded agreement, they seemed pleased.
He approached the girl that he trusted with leading the children. "The dark elves that just came here, where are they?" Rolan was afraid of her answer.
She would not meet his eyes, "They... he herded them into the cellar. Said he was taking their room. He said that's where devil children belonged... in the hells."
He put his arm around her. She was almost hysterical. "Where's the cellar door?" he asked gently.
She led him across the room to a door that looked like it led to a closet. There was a bar across this door, no one could get out unless it was unbarred from this side. She laid her hand on its rough surface and a tear ran down her cheek, causing Rolan to fear the worst.
Grey Co. Elven Translations;
Arwen en Amin- My Lady (non-familiar)
A/N Thanks again to Wyl for another insightful editing job. C.