It was always the same. She was standing at a crossroads, swords out to her sides, peering at three roads that diverged left, right, and forward. To the right, atop a hill, appeared to be a shining city, though the way was perilously steep. To the left the road seemed to lead to another city, but the way to it was through dark, sensual ancient forests that had never known the woodsman's axe. The way ahead led to a flat endless, plain, but all three paths were obscured by the mists. And something was out there, waiting. Dee awoke and sat up in bed. It wasn't the first time she had had this dream. Maybe it was time to talk to someone about it, but who? She reached for a bottle of mead on her bedside table and took a long pull then glanced out the window to judge the hour and met a pair of soft brown eyes looking at her to see if everything was alright. She said, "'Twas just another dream, my love," and reached a hand out to scratch the bear behind the ears then lay back in bed and drifted back to sleep.
Kalach-cha! She thought it was just another bad dream at first; this one was even more frequent, occurring two or three times in a tenday. Like so many nights since she left West Harbor she awoke with a start, heart pounding, gasping for breath and grabbing for her swords, with the shouts of Kalach-cha still ringing in her ears before she realized it wasn't happening. But she sat up as she realized that her uncle's shouts that they were under attack were very real, as were the shouts of Kalach-cha, and Cillian was roaring and clawing at the door. She flew out of bed and snatched up her favorite swords from the growing collection in her weapon rack before she was even fully awake.
Throwing open her door, she saw a Gith warrior bearing down on Duncan, who was holding it off with a belaying pin he kept behind the bar for dealing with troublemakers. She drove her short sword into its back, giving it a quick twist in what she hoped was its kidney, a move Neeshka had taught her. She jerked the sword free and the Gith slid to the floor. She followed her bear, who had rushed a group of of them running towards her down the hall. One of them crumpled to the floor, a look of surprise frozen on his face, and Neeshka grinned at her from behind him. Dee slashed viciously up with her left then down with her right hand to nearly beheaded another of the things while Cillian mauled a third. They fought their way down to the common room back to back, joining Casavir and Khelgar already there putting their hammers to good use and followed by Elanee, still pulling on her robe. Dee fought murderously, slashing away at every one of the green-skinned creatures she could find. Grobnar whistled a tune, and suddenly with the power of his spell, her aim felt truer and her mind more focused.
Once the carnage ended she surveyed the scene. She found herself grimly wiping her swords as she stared into the eyes of one she had just killed. She scanned the room, silently counting heads to ensure that her friends and companions were alive. She paused when she saw that even the horse's ass was there with his wolf at his side, retrieving his arrows from corpses, and from the look of things, he had done his part. Dee was amazed he didn't sleep through the fight considering how much he seemed to drink. She wouldn't have been surprised if he had pissed himself when the attack started and found a place to hide. "Guess he's more of a man than I thought," she whispered to Cillian. She chalked it up to his instinct for self-preservation. No doubt he had passed out at his table as he often did and his wolf had awakened him. He was on one knee, where he had been carefully working out an arrow buried deep in the back of a Gith warrior without breaking it, but he had paused, hands still on the arrow, to stare at her. Their eyes met. She returned him a defiant glare and asked, "What are you lookin' at?"
He had been nocking another arrow looking for another green-skinned target when he saw her swoop down upon them. Prior to this night, although he'd seen her get in a few tavern brawls alongside the dwarf, he had never seen her in battle before, though he had come across the aftermath of a few around the district. There was something terrible about her expression of determined fury that chilled his soul. It was nothing like the glazed mindless look of a bezerker; it was rather the opposite, the look of cold, deliberate murder. He swallowed hard as he realized that at that moment he'd never seen a woman look more beautiful.
When it was over, he was making his way around the common room, retrieving what arrows he could salvage and looting whatever he could before the tiefling beat him to it when he saw her again. She had dropped to her haunches over her last kill in a pool of its blood, balanced forward on her toes as she cleaned her swords on its tabbard. She seemed oblivious to the blood flowing freely from her own wounds that was staining her nightshirt crimson. Her long moonlight pale hair spilled over her shoulders. A lantern that had been hit during the fray swinging wildly on its hook cast her in light, then shadow, then light again. Was she an angel of vengance, or a demon from the lowest hells?
Then she looked around and caught him staring and met his eyes coolly. He sure couldn't tell her what he had been thinking--it would make him weak to admit that a wench had got to him like that. So he said the first thing that came to mind to take back control. With his most practiced, filthiest leer, he said "What am I looking at? Cyric's balls, woman! If that shirt was any shorter...from this angle, I can almost tell if you're a natural blonde."
But she didn't react, not even a blush. Nor did she move for that matter. She just gave him that same look she had been giving the dead gith at her feet and answered, "Well I hope you got a good look, because it's the closest you're ever going to get."
Once they realized that Shandra was missing, Sal was dispatched to search for her and make sure, but Dee was already planning her rescue. Something made Bishop point out the sprig of duskwood he had seen stuck in the sandal of one of the dead Giths he looted, even though a voice inside him told him, "Shut up, fool, or you'll be trapped." He cursed himself for wanting, no, needing to impress her. Duncan had insisted Bishop go along to rescue Shandra. Dee shot Duncan a pained look like he had just slapped her, while Bishop shot Duncan a look like he could murder him. "I don't need him. My father taught me more about tracking then he'll ever know," she answered testily.
Something passed between Bishop and Duncan then that Dee nearly missed as she was focused on organizing the mission. She heard, "So you're calling it due?" It gave her a moment's pause, but she had too much to think about, and she wasn't one to get involved in others' affairs anyway. She didn't care what he owed her uncle; it was their secret. And when she had calmed down enough to think more rationally, she saw that Duncan was right--she had never been in Luskan territory and had already made enemies there, so it was no place to get lost or run into a patrol, not with Shandra's life at stake. So if the horse's ass knew his way around the Duskwood, she would put up with him.
"So be it," she said. "Be ready to go within the hour, no drinkin' on the trail, and Bishop, watch your tongue or I'll cut it out." He snorted and answered her with that sardonic laugh of his, "Yeah, sweetheart, I'm sure that's really what you want with my tongue. But I assume the no drinking on the trail goes for you too."
"We needed to travel light and fast," she said, ignoring him though he noticed that he finally found something to make her blush. "Neesh, find Cas some lighter armor--some studded leather or some of that darksteel chain we set aside should do. You'll make too much noise and slow us down in your plate, Katalmach. Khel, that goes for you too. And no arguing!" They both looked like they were about to argue, but seeing the look of iron determination on her face thought better of it and followed Neeshka back towards their rooms.
Then she felt warmth spread through her body and turned to Elanee, who had been busy healing the company and had just come up behind her, laying a hand on her shoulder and murmuring the words of a healing spell. "Thanks again El, now run over to Sand's, tell him what happened, grab whatever healing potions he has on hand and anything else he suggests too, and tell him to put them on my account. He knows I'm good for it." She tried not to think about the tab she ran up at Sand's shop, but he did still have her gems and reagents for payment if she didn't make it back. "Uncle, get us some food and waterskins for the road."
She spotted Grobnar and approached him, dropping back down to gnome-level to look the little man in the eye. "Grobby, I know you want to help, but you're no use to Shandra if you can't keep up with the rest of us. I think Cil will let you ride on his back for a little while if you have to, but if you even think you'll slow us down, stay here." The gnome gaped at her and nodded, speechless for once, but recovering enough as he ran off to the room he shared with Casavir to wonder aloud if there was a bear-sized saddle on the premises.
She thought, "I got them moving, I'd better get myself moving too" and turned towards the hall. She spotted Qara, who had appeared late at the fight only to cast a fireball spell recklessly that burned both Neeshka and Casavir and damaged two tables and part of the floor of the tavern in the process. "No wonder Sand was always calling her 'that idiot girl.' But at least she doesn't have to memorize spells," Dee thought. Gods, now there was an idea. She should coax Sand away from the safety of his shop to take up adventuring. She couldn't help but notice that Qara was the only one not getting ready to go. Instead, she had casually walked behind the bar and poured herself a glass of wine.
Dee said with exasperation, "Qara, what are you doing? Get moving! Grab what you need for the road. Now! We're leaving within the hour."
Qara gave her a bored look and replied, "I hope you don't expect me to run off in the middle of the night into the middle of nowhere to rescue some farm girl I don't even know."
Dee snapped, "Fine then, you can stay here and wipe tables."
Qara snapped back, "I paid off your uncle with my share from the orc lairs, so I don't owe either of you anything. I might work for you in here in the city when you need me--for the right price." She turned and swished back to her room.
Dee punched the wall and growled, "Mileikki, give me strength not to throttle the little bitch!," and stormed off with Cillian to her room. She forced away a dark urge to toss a dagger at the sorceress's retreating back. She hadn't hated many people in her life, though she did have a strong dislike for the horse's ass already, but she was begnning to truly despise Qara.
She stopped at the women's bath to pour a few buckets of water over herself as she stood over the drain to rinse off the drying blood, wincing as the hot water poured over a few wounds that Elanee's spell hadn't quite healed. She nearly tossed her nightshirt into the refuse bin but thought better of it, partly because of the sentimental value of it, and partly because she had been raised to waste nothing. At the very least, it could be laundered and torn up for rags. She snatched it up gingerly with the tips of her fingers then ran to her room, rendering Grobnar speechless for the second time that night when he popped out of his room and nearly stumbled into her just as she passed.
She tossed the shirt into a basket just inside her door and left five gold on top for the widow who did the patron's laundry by way of apology for the mess. Of course, she could have had several new nightshirts for five gold, but it was the principle of it. In less than five minutes she dressed, and in less than ten more she had donned her new armor, which she had recently bought from one of Cormick's contacts in the merchant quarter. It had cost her an obscene amount of gold, but the special enchantments added especially for Harper scouts were supposed to make it worth the price. By now she had also purchased another pack so she always had one ready to go at a moment's notice.
She strapped on her weapon belt and strapped an extra sword on her back along with her bow, taking great satisfaction in her growing efficiency. Even with the stop for the quick rinse, she was ready to go within half an hour. As she braided her hair tightly and fastened her cloak, she recalled wryly that night she left West Harbor when she numbly shoved whatever clothes were at hand into one of her father's old rucksacks, along the first food she saw, and everything in his chest, including a book on Elven enchantments. Consequently, she left with two changes of clothes, all of her undergarments, a handful of mismatched socks, for food only half a dozen apples and pears, a book she had no use for as it was written in Elvish, and somehow she also packed one of Daeghun's tunics that would in no way fit her.
They traveled for days into the mountains towards the Duskwood, resting only when necessity--exhaustion or hunger--overtook them. Grobnar surprised her by using spells to help him keep up. But Bishop surprised her even more, showing her a serious for once with few of his usual crude remarks. He really was a different person out here, she thought. He laughed and smiled without adding a sardonic sneer. Out of the city he was at first tolerable, then useful, and later she reluctantly admitted, sometimes pleasant to be around. She thought he had quite a nice smile when he wasn't scowling. The Gith had laid a few false trails which had cost them time, but working together they had found the right path. She developed a grudging respect for Bishop's tracking skills, which she realized were better than her own, and his wolf was almost as deadly in a fight as her bear.
While his one weakness as she saw it was that he didn't engage in melee unless he was forced to, still he was as ruthless as Neeshka with his dagger. In addition, he was an almost ludicrously good shot with his bow, and he seemed never to miss his target. She even heard him calling his shots one time when they had been attacked while they were at rest and she was close enough to him to hear him. "Right eye" he muttered as she sprinted past with her swords drawn, and once the killing was done and they were searching the bodies, she saw that he had hit his mark.
They also had things in common besides a love for the wild; for example, she discovered that they both practiced making various bird and animal calls, which really wasn't all that strange though, considering their vocation. He was helpful in finding a safe place to rest, making camp quickly, and foraging or hunting for food or fresh water, and he even sincerely complemented her tracking when she spotted a half footprint he had missed.
True, sometimes Bishop reverted to his old ways: he had an annoying habit of baiting the paladin, like during one rest break when she overheard him pointing out a poison oak plant to Casavir. "Those leaves are safe to use for bum wipe, your holiness." Dee chuckled as the paladin answered tersely, "I spent three years in the wilds around Old Owl Well. I certainly know what poison oak looks like, ranger." But for the most part, she decided Bishop wasn't such a horse's ass after all. He must have just had a hard life, she reasoned, and she started to think, in that ridiculously dreamy optimistic manner that some women have, that maybe she could soften his rough spots and help him heal.
Dee droped down next to Neeshka and shook out her bedroll when they took a break for some much-needed sleep. She watched Bishop as he walked off to take first watch. "You know, Neesh, I wonder if it's the drink or life in the city or both that have such a poisonous effect on him," and she asked quietly, "How long before I become as jaded and cynical as he is if I stay in the city."
Neeshka rolled her eyes and answered, "Hells, Dee, you can't be serious. I think you've had too much sun when he starts looking good."
She turned on her side to face the tiefling. "Come on, Neesh. You have to admit, he's not bad looking. He has pretty eyes. And besides, he smells really good. And I think he's just had a hard life. You have to admit, he's been useful out here." Dee leaned closer and whispered, "If I had met him out here, we might have been become friends," and maybe more, she thought.
Neeshka waved her hand in front of Dee's face. "I don't have to admit anything. And you know what? I'm gonna get the paladin to see if you've been charmed or something. Hells, Dee, you really do like bad men. What happened with the marshall you were after?"
Dee shrugged and turned over to lie on her back. "I gave up on him. I tried everything the ladies at the Mask said I should do to show him I was interested, but he backed away like I was offering him poison."
Neeshka rolled her eyes and said, "I can see it now. All he needs is what, the love of a good woman? A good lay and he'll be helping old women across the street and attending temple every Godsday. You need to get laid, Dee, and you don't have to look far. The paladin can't take his eyes off you, in case you haven't noticed."
Dee, who hadn't noticed, shuddered involuntarily and answered, "Cas? I could never...Don't get me wrong, he's really handsome, he's a good man, but he's too much like my father. Now Shandra I could see him with. Besides, I don't see the attraction. I drink too much, I don't walk away from a fight, I swear like a sailor, and I'm not even all that good looking. I mean come on, El's beautiful, you're much cuter than me, and Shandra's prettier too, no matter how much paint I layer on. I don't know what it is. Maybe I should ask El if I give off some scent that attracts them. Or Cil." She grinned and turned around and ruffled the bear's fur and asked, "Do I give that bitch-in-heat scent?" The bear grunted at her and lay back down. What did he know? Two-legged females did nothing for him.
Neeshka grinned and said, "Don't sell yourself short, Dee. You're not that bad now that you've tamed your eyebrows. At least you're prettier than Qara. And you have an ass you could bounce a gold piece off."
Dee chuckled and said, "I think a seahag is prettier than Qara with that snotty look she always has on her face. Let's get some sleep. Maybe I'll fix you up with Cas."
Neeshka shuddered, turned on her side and muttered, "You're an evil woman, Dee."
They approached the village of Ember. She knew in her gut that something was wrong. The Gith hadn't been making much effort to hide their passing, so they were wary of another ambush. She was on point, swords drawn, with Neeshka and Cillian following hard behind her, the others a bit farther back, and Bishop, Grobnar, and Elanee in the rear with their bows. It was quiet--too quiet. The birds were silent, and she noticed there were no other animals to be seen anywhere. Or villagers, for that matter, in a farm village in the middle of the day. She signaled by touching her ear with a slight shake of her head and gesturing for the others to fan out, and Bishop returned a barely perceptable nod as he nocked two arrows, a trick she'd only seen Daeghun pull off with much accuracy. Mere heartbeats later the Gith sprang out all around them from houses and outbuildings, and two arrows tore into one that was sneaking up behind her.
The Gith had been very careful after that attempted ambush not to leave tracks, and day a out of Ember the trail went dead cold, just when it seemed like they nearly had them. Dee stomped her foot furiously and snarled, "Oh Beshaba's cu..."
Casavir blanched and admonished her, "My lady! Such language does not suit you, and you would do well to avoid blasphemy, even against the dark gods!"
Dee sighed, chastened, and said, "Sorry, Cas. Allright, everyone wait here and rest while you can. El, can you still take your bird form?"
Elanee grinned and replied by taking the form of a red-tailed hawk and flew into the air.
Dee stretched and popped her back and said, "Come on, Bishop. Time to make yourself useful."
They set out with their animal companions in opposite directions from the last sign of the Gith's passing, which involved searching crouched close to the ground in widening concentric circles looking for anything to show them the path. After an hour of such painstaking and painful searching, Dee spotted a loose pile of rocks and dirt that looked like it had recently slid down the hill from above. She made the call of a swamp thrush, a prearranged signal, then continued to work her way up a ridge while she waited for either Bishop or Elanee to get to her. Suddenly he surprised her coming around the ridge ahead of her, and she nearly jumped out of her skin, slashing out with her long sword and stopping her swing mere inches from his throat as she recognized him. He smirked at her, pushed her blade aside with a finger, and gestured to her to follow him. "I found something." He pointed at a brownish lump behind a large rock.
She cocked her head at him and replied, "Shite, Bish. Smells like you found something too," as she dropped to her haunches for a closer look, wrinkling her nose as she poked it with a stick. "Didn't come from any critter I know. You think 'tis Gith scat? Sloppy of 'em not burying it."
He grinned and said, "Yeah, that's what I was thinkin' too."
She stood and folded her hands over her eyes and scanned the sky. "I don't see El anywhere."
He pointed at a speck in the sky and drawled, "You mean her? Plain as the nose on your face, dear leader." He waved until he got the druid's attention so she could fly back and lead the others to where they were.
Bishop put a hand over his eyes and peered up the mountain. "There's some old ruins up there. Most likely place for their hideout," he said, nodding in that direction.
"Yeah. Let's keep looking while the others catch up to be sure," she answered.
So they searched on side by side, crouched low to the ground though the muscles in their legs and backs were screaming in protest, and after a few minutes, they simultaneously spotted a barely perceptable disturbance in the soil, which was really not much more than a toeprint and would have been invisible to anyone but a trained tracker. They dropped down and measured the depth of the print to try to determine how fresh it was and how fast their quarry was moving.
She grinned at him in relief and said with a laugh, "This wasn't made long ago. We got 'em!" She stood and stretched out her stiffness.
He stood and replied with a smirk, "Yeah, we did it! Once the others drag their sorry asses up here, we can kill some more Gith and get your farmgirl back."
She grabbed him impulsively in a celebratory hug. He chuckled and hugged her back.
He his leather armor was pungent with sweat, but his sweat smelled good...kind of acidic, but spicy too, and...feral, she thought, and it made her shiver. Some men's sweat had such an acrid, sour stench that she could hardly stand to be around them let alone get this close. She decided right then that this was how a man should smell. Even after days without more than cursory washing, his scent drew her closer, making her hold the embrace far longer than was prudent, and she fought an peculiar urge to taste his skin.
He held her thinking nearly the same thing, that even smelling of bear and sweat she still smelled good. He'd rather be with a woman who smelled of sweat and leather and the forest any day over perfumed town women. He also raised an eyebrow as he noticed that she still held him. "Well now," he thought, "this is not what I expected. Wonder how far she'll go. Only one way to find out." He quickly grabbed her hair tightly at the back of her neck and turned her to face him then kissed her boldly, twisting his body so he was out of range of her knees, and pinning her arms in case she her answer was a slug or elbow to the gut.
She gasped in shock and balled her fists, but she found herself returning the kiss, then freeing her arms and running her fingers roughly through his chestnut hair. She gasped at the burn of his beard against her cheek, and then his tongue was caressing her own roughly. Karnwyr and Cillian looked at them then each other and would have shrugged if their shoulders worked that way. They lay down to wait. Being males, they understood that finding a willing female was a rare thing that was not to be denied.
Bishop thought, "This is going better than I expected." He pulled her down into the spring grass, mussing up her braid and kissing and biting wildly along her cheek, her jaw, and her throat before plunging his tongue into her mouth again. They lay together kissing, and exploring each other as much as they could with armor and many sharp weapons in the way. He paused while nuzzling her ear and whispered, "We have just enough time before the others get here, if we're quick."
The pause was just enough to break the spell. She pushed him off and struggled to her feet as he tried to force her back down. "We don't have time for this now, Bishop. Gods, what are we thinking?" He snatched at her arm, but she shoved him down forcefully and stalked to Cillian, who eyed Bishop suspiciously and growled lowly, wondering what it was about the male that made her reject him. She shook her head to clear it.
"Hells, Bishop, what were we thinking rutting in the grass like that when Shandra's life is at stake."
He sat up and sneered, "Yeah, that's right, run away. You grab me, so I kiss you, then next thing I know, your tongue is in my mouth, you wait till you get me worked up, and then you shove me off. There's a name for wenches like you. "
"It wasn't like that, Bishop, and if you can't see that this isn't the time, then you're a fool!"
Elanee landed nearby a few minutes later, followed shortly after by Neeshka on foot, who being more worldly than Elanee took one look at Dee and Bishop, sitting with their companions in stony silence--their mussed hair, the dark welt rising on her neck--and thought, "They look like they've...Ewwww! Hells! Ewww! How could she? But then, why are they acting like they hate each other? She must have finally got tired of his mouth and smacked him one, that explains it. Hope she gave him some bruises to match that one he gave her."
They hardly exchanged a word the rest of the way to the Gith lair unless they had to, and when their eyes met, he glowered at her until she looked away. "Gods," she thought angrily, "are men really that fragile? Or is it just the ones I'm attracted to?" She also wondered if Bishop was right. It was an evil word that he called her, but was it true? Had she led him on? Had she done the same to Wyl back home? Gods, what was wrong with her? "Focus, girl," she scolded herself as the ruins came into view, "or someone's going to end up dead." She steeled herself for the fight ahead and marched on.
They had decided to make for Port Llast and catch a ship to get back to Neverwinter more quickly, yet they traveled there at a slower pace now that the urgency had passed. Shandra was alive, and that should have been cause for celebration. Dee took the lead with Cillian, her mind in turmoil over the knowledge she had gained about the shard embedded in her chest, which she absently touched, and the ominous threat of the King of Shadows. She scratched the bear's neck. How much had Daeghun known, or Duncan too, for that matter? Daeghun surely had to have known, that much was clear, but if he did, that meant that she had been lied to her whole life. She would get the truth, she thought grimly, even if she had to beat it out of him.
Neeshka, Elanee, and Casavir tried in vain to distract her with any subject they thought would catch her attention, Khelgar regaled her with stories of the Ironfist clan and showed her the fighting exercises practiced the monks, and Grobnar had tried to cheer her with silly songs, bearing with her grunts and terse answers. And their eyes inevitably traveled to her chest, as if looking for some manifestation of the shard embedded there. At least he left her alone. Then again, she mused, he didn't seem like the comforting type anyway. About all he had said to her was to remind her she owed him for the loss of his favorite skinning knife every chance he got and that he expected repayment.
They tried to tell her that things weren't as bleak as they seemed. But to her it was like she had fallen down a deep well with no way to climb back out. She was beginning to fear that she had no control whatsoever over the plan of her life.
They made camp late one afternoon, and Dee assigned watches then pulled some dried meat from her pack, offering some to Cillian. Shandra walked up to her and said, "If I'm going to be traveling with you, I could use some sparring practice." Dee nodded at her as she chewed and couldn't help but smile slightly as Casavir smacked himself on the forehead for not thinking of that.
Bishop set up a few makeshift targets and grabbed his bow and said, "The farm girl might as well learn how to shoot too before we lose the light. I'd be happy to give her some personal instruction."
Dee replied evenly, "We could start with some archery practice. There are times when you need to soften them up before you finish them off. You can use my bow, Shandra."
Bishop snorted and answered, "I thought you wanted her to learn how to hit."
Dee ignored the taunt and showed Shandra the correct way to string the bow and nock an arrow then showed her the proper stance. Everyone in the party had either a bow or a crossbow because Dee had insisted that they needed at least one ranged weapon, so Casavir and Elanee joined them too with their bows and both gave Shandra additional tips.
Grobnar, with a cheery cry of "Sir Bishop, mind if I join you," bounced over next to him to try out his new crossbow, oblivious to Bishop's hostile reply, "Only if I can use you for a target."
Bishop watched the others shoot a round then loosed his own arrows, grinning as he split a few of the others' arrows. But whether Bishop's digs got to her, or because couldn't get her mind off what the Gith witch had told her, or because she really wasn't a very good shot, Dee just couldn't seem to hit the target.
Grobnar cocked his head and watched Dee shoot another round before she gave up in disgust, handed the bow to Shandra, and stalked off to a dead tree where she joined Neeshka throwing daggers and Khelgar throwing hand axes. Grobnar followed on her heels like a loveable but annoying puppy and watched quietly for a while before he approached Dee and pulled her aside.
"What is it, Grobby?" she asked distractedly, keeping an eye on Bishop leaning over Shandra as she lined up her shot.
"Lady Dee, if I may be so bold, I think I know what your problem..."
She cut him off with a scowl. "I don't have a problem!"
"Well yes, my lady, but nevertheless, there's an Lantana Artificer at the shrine of Gond who makes many marvelous things, but you see, he takes polished and ground circles of glass and attaches them to wire frames, rather like small magnifying glasses, but they're made to be worn and well, I think he could help you. I'd be happy to take you to meet him."
"Thanks, Grobby, but my vision is fine," she replied tersely, crossing her arms over her chest. "Besides, I've seen those things. Spectacles, aren't they called? Aren't they very expensive?" She had only ever seen people wearing them in the Blacklake district, and she wasn't sure if she trusted putting a Gondian device anywhere near her eyes.
He stared at her with a more serious expression than he usually showed the world until she blinked. "Dee, we have to confront our weaknesses or be overcome by them. Trust me."
She sighed. "Alright then, I'll go talk to the man with you when we get back to Neverwinter."
They practiced until the light faded and then Elanee cast a Light spell. Dee led Shandra across the camp to a flat area with room to move so they could get in some melee practice. She looked her over as they slid the padded practice covers on their weapons. "First thing, before we get started--how's the armor fit?," she asked as she checked to see if Shandra had fastened the armor correctly. "Second thing--I hope you're not overly fond of that short sword. It's fine for close up fighting or sneak attacks, but with melee fighting you would be better off with something with more reach. Try everyone's weapons and we'll see what suits you best."
So Shandra tried her hand at a variety of different weapons and fighting styles, and Dee showed her how to defend against different weapons as well. She didn't have the coordination for the two-weapon fighting style, but that really didn't surprise Dee--few did. Shandra did have powerful arms and shoulders from years of hard work on the farm though, and she wielded a great sword with the same ease with which she had wielded a pitchfork. She wasn't bad with a warhammer either. Khelgar, then Casavir, then even Bishop wandered over to them, and they all practiced, trading partners, laughing, joking, and offering helpful critiques of each others' fighting styles. Dee took a break to quaff some water and smiled softly, realizing she had hardly thought about the shards this evening. She whispered to Cillian, "You know what, my love? I have really great friends."