Chapter 33 101 Uses for a Dead Dragon

Usual disclaimers: The characters are owned by a lot of other people and not by me except a bear-lovin' ranger, a handsome bear, and an occasional NPC.

As always, concrit is greatly appreciated.

Those two wagons Bishop saw being readied that evening on his way to meet with Black Garius were only the first two of many sent to the Knight Captain's camp on Mount Galardrym to collect the spoils of the dragon's lair. In fact, Kana sent along two squads of Greycloaks and as many wagons as the Keep had available, and then as many more as she could commandeer from merchants staying at the Keep as well as miners and wagons from the miners' guild.

Bishop learned to his dismay later that night at the festhall that they had killed a dragon, and not the other way around. Word was Edario was going along to examine the creature's hide to see if there was enough intact for him to craft a suit of armor and was going to bring back claws and teeth for Jacoby to craft into weapons. Aldanon's senior apprentice was going to salvage what distillable components he could from the corpse. Bishop lost all interest in the wench on his lap and instead got a bottle of ice whiskey to drink himself into oblivion in his room alone. He decided he shouldn't inform Black Garius of this turn of events until he also had something better to report, something that would spare him more torture.

Several days later one of the guards stationed atop the wall shouted that he saw the dust of wagons and riders headed towards the Keep. In no time at all the word spread, so soon everyone from the farmers in the fields to the staff inside the Keep abandoned what they were doing to come out and stare down the road and crowd along either side of it, everyone that is except the Greycloaks who were on duty and refused to let themselves be distracted. Kana stepped out to the front of the crowd, with Sir Nevalle was right behind her followed by Zhjaeve, Grobnar, Aldanon and his apprentices, and even Torio Claven. Bishop tried to stay away but found that he couldn't, so he and Karnwyr also pushed through to the front though he cursed himself for his weakness. The gates creaked open as the first wagon drew near, and the Knight Captain led her companions into the Keep.

The crowd broke into cheers as they rode in, and Bishop gasped despite himself as she rode into view. In place of her usual leathers she was wearing a suit of delicate silvery chain mail, which was so finely wrought it could only be elven workmanship. It caught the midday light and sparkled like diamonds. What had looked like a coif at a distance he realized was her cool pale hair, which hung loose and came nearly to her shoulders now. The way the midday sun lit her, all in silver and tanned and riding her golden horse with her bear ambling alongside, she didn't look mortal, and he remembered the first time he lay eyes on her that night in Duncan's tavern when a trick of the light enhanced by the drink, made her look for a moment like she was surrounded by a golden aura. But she was just a wench, he reminded himself with disgust. He knew that better than anyone here.

Her palomino mare pranced, lifting her long legs high, tossing her mane and flicking her tail, and he swore the damned bear was prancing too. The fool paladin rode up on his huge black stallion, right behind her as usual as if he was afraid to let her get too far out of his sight. She smiled and waved to the cheering crowd. Bishop thought as a wave of sadness swept over him suddenly that she still had one of the most beautiful smiles he had ever seen on a wench as she caught sight of him, beamed at him and mouthed his name. He felt a tightness growing in his chest. He never hated her as much as he did at that moment, and as he felt himself grin foolishly and he waved back he was sure she deserved everything that was coming.

The rest rode by next, and right behind them was the first of a line of wagons flanked by a squad of stout dwarven warriors led by Khelgar on his sturdy mountain pony. He wore a thick belt with an elaborate buckle over his simple monk's garb and carried a huge war hammer casually slung over his shoulder, and he hopped off his horse and directed the dwarves to the grassy field next to the inn where they were to make camp until they found them more permanent quarters. "We don't want to be too far from the ale, do we now?" he bellowed, and they laughed heartily and followed him.

Dee swung a long leg across her horse's back and slipped lightly off her once they were front of Nevalle and Kana, grinning giddily like a child with pile of presents on Midwinter morning. Casavir dismounted and walked up beside her as stable hands broke through the throng and led their horses away and some of the house staff took their travel bags to their rooms. The others dispersed as soon as they were relieved of their horses, Elanee hugging Zhjaeve then grabbing arm her excitedly and walking off with her towards the fields and the Githzerai's first turnip crop, while Ammon Jerro's seething glower made the throng part to let him pass as he stalked inside to his quarters. Qara aped Jerro's glower and pushed her way through, but no one cared to stop her anyway.

Sand and Neeshka stayed to accept congratulations from Grobnar, who cornered them immediately and insisted on hearing what he missed in hopes of getting material for a new song, and congratulations and offers of drinks from off-duty Greycloaks and the staff of the festhall. Sand whispered to Neeshka, as they let themselves be led away for just one drink that they both knew would turn into several, "I'm anxious to get to work in my laboratory. I can't stop thinking of all the things I could enchant with the gems we found. I swear I'm salivating at the very thought! I believe I shall lock myself away for two or three days at least after today."

Neeshka giggled and whispered as she patted her bag, "Yeah? I'm even more anxious to get to my chamber and lock the door so I can pour out my magic bag on the bed and look at all my loot! Then I have to count it! Then I think I'll roll around in it naked! Then I've got to find somewhere really safe to hide it!"

The Cormyran twins from the festhall waved at Sand coyly and simultaneously blew him a kiss. He had discovered while using the Paint cantrip on their hair that one of them had a talent for sorcery as she was able to repeat the spell almost immediately, and so he had taught her more cantrips. He couldn't help but notice that now her hair was royal blue. But she had learned Magic Missile nearly as quickly as she learned the cantrips and then a few other more mundane spells, so he had thoughts of helping her gain entrance into the Academy when the autumn session started. The other twin was an acolyte of Sharess who he discovered also had a talent for potion making, and so he tutored her as well in what spare time he had. They repaid his efforts with their other considerable talents, and he knew it would be tomorrow at least before he was in any condition for serious spellcasting.

Dee and Casavir spoke with Kana and Nevalle as the rest of the wagons, guarded by Greycloaks, rolled into the Keep. Kana called for silence then Dee stepped forward to address them, thanked and released those who had volunteered to meet them and called for fresh volunteers to unload the wagons. Three dozen Greycloaks stepped forward at once, grabbed a bag or two, and marched into the Keep followed by the two young Tyrran clerks Judge Oleff had sent, who were charged with counting the gold and estimating the value of the other treasure.

Sir Nevalle handed her a package sent to her from his mother and watched the line of Greycloaks carrying the bags. "A percentage must be sent to Lord Nasher, but I know I don't need to remind you of that."

Dee only nodded, proud of herself for resisting the urge to muss his hair and mutter, "Well Lord Nasher can find his own dragon then," but Casavir squeezed her hand as if he could read her mind. Instead she opened the package, which was full of satin swatches. She cast a puzzled look at Casavir, who only shrugged. They both turned to Nevalle for an explanation.

Sir Nevalle saw the confusion on her face, so he explained. "Mother had those sent from one of her favorite dress makers for your wedding clothes. She wanted me to help you choose one and remind you that a proper bride of your station absolutely must wear satin. She says nothing else will do."

Dee thought, "Sure, I have all the time in the world to choose fabric, and it all looks the same to me anyway," but instead she smiled sweetly and said, "Thank you, Gilles, I'll keep that in mind, and I'd be honored if you chose for me." She was learning to delegate responsibility. She added, "Mayhap you can help Cas choose his wedding clothes too."

Casavir gasped and paled at the thought, and she squeezed his hand. He whispered, "He'll put me in one of those codpieces. They're indecent!"

Nevalle smiled brightly and practically snatched the package back from her. "I was hoping you would say that." If he had his way, she would look like a knight and not like a farmer at her wedding.

She nodded at the Greycloaks carrying the sacks into the Keep proper and told him, "Once I know how much we have and Lord Nasher has been given his share, some of it is also to be set aside for the temple of Tyr for its upkeep and to fund the school and mayhap an orphanage." She knew there would be need enough for that in the coming days. "I want to set aside enough to build the shrines to Mystra and Tymora I promised Sand and Neesh, and I want to improve the shrine to Kelemvor...for Shandra's sake..." She tried unsuccessfully again not to think about those who would surely die in her service, but she resolved that at least would pay their way to the god of the dead. "But first I want to finish my shrine for Meilikki." Casavir shot her a guilty look, and she felt a twinge in her heart. But she was determined to have her shrine to Meilikki built whether Casavir had time to finish the image or not, so a rough image of the goddess would have to do.

Khelgar returned with a small group of dwarves and Dee stepped aside and let him introduce the Ironfist sergeants to Kana and Nevalle. There was one female dwarven sergeant who was tall for a dwarf, the famous Khalia the Red, named for her long flaming braids reaching almost to her knees when they weren't coiled tightly around her ears. She bore a shield nearly as big as she was and a broad battle ax on her hip. Dee caught her giving Khelgar a long appraising look when his back was turned. Dee and Neeshka had made her acquaintance on the way back then conspired together about getting her and the unexpectedly shy Khelgar alone some time. (Neeshka giggled that he blushed as red as her hair when she looked at him). A few of the dwarves who had already set up their tents were examining Master Veedle's stonework, and Dee whispered to Casavir, "I'll know within a day whether our gold was well spent."

Kana's first thought as she looked down the road at the dwarven camp which had nearly taking shape was "I've just gotten the lizard people settled." But she was glad despite the extra work that they had more allies, and said, "There are several matters which require your attention, Captain, but I think you must be tired and hungry."

Dee thought wryly that there would probably always be several important matters that required her immediate attention whether she was tired or hungry or not, but she replied with a sly grin, "Very well, but do you have time for me to go to the privy on your schedule?"

Kana responded with an uncharacteristic wink and pointed. "Yes, see, it's right here. In fact, I've scheduled you two privy breaks."

Dee laughed loudly and slapped her on the back. "And a luncheon break? I've been thinking about eating somethin' other than trail rations all morning." She sniffed herself discreetly. "I'd like to wash off the dust and put on some clean clothes first, but that can wait until supper I guess, as long as cook sends me a plate of whatever he has on hand and I can eat while we work. But tonight I'd like supper served in the War Room for all my companions. We have much to discuss, and I'd like you and Sir Nevalle to join us."

Torio Claven was standing by herself behind Sir Nevalle, and Dee was struck by how forlorn she looked when her guard was down. Without thinking about it she said, "Torio, would you join us too?" The former ambassador blinked and quickly replied, "Yes, of course." Dee called over a few of Wolf's crew and handed them each a gold piece. "Can you take a message to the festhall to the Widow so she makes sure Grobby, Sand and Neesh get back to the Keep in time for supper, and go find Elanee and Zhjaeve?" She looked around until she spotted Bishop lingering nearby and called out, "Bish, you'll be there?" There was just enough pleading in her look and her voice that he decided it wasn't an order and grunted his assent and walked over.

At that moment Sydney Natale's servant Kraven squeezed through the dispersing crowd and squeaked nervously, "Captain err Lady Farlong. Please, if I may have a moment of your time. I bring greetings from Luskan..."

Bishop glared at him and snapped angrily, "Luskan? She doesn't give a shit about any greetings from Luskan."

Dee was taken aback. She too had been tempted to say she had no care for any proposal of Luskan's, but she reminded herself she represented Lord Nasher as his knight, and it also occurred to her that Luskan might have realized by now the King of Shadows was a threat to their city too and might have a legitimate offer of help. And she recalled he had asked to speak to her before she left to be knighted and here he was, still waiting to speak with her. She didn't trust Luskan, and she trusted its new ambassador about as far as she could throw her, but she felt sorry for the little man. She put her hand on his arm and smiled kindly. "I'm sorry you've had to wait so long! I will have Kana will put you on the schedule for this afternoon or tomorrow morning at the latest if there's no time today."

Kana looked over her schedule and shook her head in the affirmative and replied crisply, "If you see him right before your dinner, but only if it's a brief proposal. Otherwise he will have to wait until tomorrow."

"Oh, I'll be very brief, your ladyship." He looked at her hopefully, and Dee was struck by the fact that his eyes did rather resemble those of a little dog begging for table scraps.

"I will listen to your proposal tonight if possible." Dee pondered the many rules of etiquette (far too many for her liking) and wondered if she should invite him to eat with them, but he wasn't an ambassador, and besides, she wanted this evening for her companions, and she could get their advice on Luskan's proposal. "Kana will send word to you to let you know one way or the other."

He looked visibly relieved as if he'd been trapped under one of Veedle's huge stones and was suddenly released, which made Dee feel even more guilty. He grabbed her hand and stammered, "Oh th..thank you, thank you, your ladyship." He bowed deeply and scurried off to his room in the inn. Bishop laughed coarsely and called out, "Don't wet yourself, dog."

Dee put a hand on Casavir's shoulder, sensing he had had about as much of the ranger as he could take. She shot Bishop a look and mouthed, "Be nice," which he answered with a sneer. She shook her head then paused almost in mid-stride. Casavir, Kana, and Cillian all paused too with quizzical looks. Dee shook her head and muttered, "That was strange."

Casavir put his hand on her shoulder and looked at her with concern. "Is something amiss?"

Dee shrugged and blushed, feeling foolish. "I just had a funny sensation. It gave me the shivers. It was like someone was lookin' over my shoulder. It's silly, I know. Let's go in."

They entered the Keep proper, which was cool despite the heat outside because of the thick stone it was built of. As she took her seat in the audience chamber and Kana's scribe brought up a folding table laden with documents to sign while Kana summoned the representatives from merchant costers that wanted to do business at the Keep, Dee leaned over and whispered to Casavir, "You don't have to be stuck here all afternoon too, love. You wanted to go to the temple. Kana and I can handle this, and Cill's here if anyone gets out of line." Cillian looked up from where he was sitting near her feet gnawing on half a deer's ribcage the cook had sent over for him and grinned bearishly.

He smiled at her warmly and kissed her cheek and whispered out of Kana's earshot, "Thank you, my lady. I'll be back to free you in time for you to get a proper bath so you don't have to rush."

She arched an eyebrow and whispered back, "I had kinda hoped we would have time for an improper bath." His ears turned beet red but he winked at her as he stood then strode towards the exit. Bishop watched him pass and followed him after a few moments as soon as enough time had passed that it wouldn't appear obvious.

Dee listened to Kana's report of the status of the Keep and signed documents for a good hour while she devoured half a roasted chicken (Cillian devoured the other half) and fresh asparagus with barley bread just out of the oven, being careful not to get any grease on the documents, and she told Kana between mouthfuls she would have Neeshka get more information about the merchant costers as only Neeshka could before she made a final decision.

They discussed the hard-fought windfall they had received. "Should be more than enough there to build those guard towers and bridges Veedle suggested. The Greycloaks who volunteered to go meet us have already been given bonuses, but I'd like something to be given to the other Greycloaks and a present for all the Keep's staff too." She thought about that for a moment. "Mayhap a pair of shoes." She caught Kana rolling her eyes and stuck her tongue out at her. "Fine, not shoes, mayhap just some coins so they can buy what they want, or save 'em if they want. And after that I think we should pay all of Lord Nasher's levy on the farmers for next year as well as this year. They might be hard-pressed to come up with it next year if there's fightin' in the fields and the crops get wiped out."

With nearly everything demanding her attention dealt with, she and Cillian followed Kana to her office so she could hear a confidential report about the new sergeants. As they had expected, new recruits flocked to Light-of-Heavens. Kana was impressed at the sheer number of recruits she had attracted, especially given Dee's insistence that they only accept the best. "She's so good that Katriona has been able to assume more training duties, and she's also been going with the other sergeants who are leading patrols to the new villages on the surrounding lands so that Freya's and Bevil's squads can focus on patrolling the roads and discouraging the bandits."

"And how is Bevil coming along?" Dee interrupted to ask.

Kana examined her list briefly before replying. "Bevil. He's a hard worker. He's very...patient with the troops, sometimes too patient for my liking. He is a good instructor though." She paused as if considering her words carefully. "Sometimes, however, it's as if he's not here, Captain. He has been overcome by dark moods on a few occasions. Not enough to interfere with his duty, but enough to cause some concern." It mainly caused concern to Katriona, who was Kana's closest friend here at the Keep, and who had shared this concern with her a few days ago. "He seems to be deeply troubled, which I know is to be expected given his family history. But I sense there's something else, and Katriona agrees with me. It goes beyond grieving." She wrinkled her brow as she tried to find the right words to describe the emotion they had observed. "It's almost like...guilt, or shame. We thought that perhaps you might be able to talk with him and draw him out."

Dee sighed and shook her head sadly. "Poor Bevil. He was always so gentle, like his ma. I'm surprised sometimes that he even enlisted. It used to be all I could do some days to get him out to militia practice, but he knew he had a duty to do his part for the village. The rest of us Harbormen lost friends and family, but he's lost everyone. And not only his family, but his sweetheart Aimee too. They would have been married this past spring. And to top it off, he has to live with bein' Lorne Starling's brother. Remember Brother Ivarr talked about something he called 'survivor's guilt,' in one of his sermons as a warning to the Greycloaks not to keep their feelings bottled up until they explode."

Kana nodded. "Yes, I remember that, and it was good advice."

Dee frowned, concerned for her oldest friend. "Mayhap that's what it is, he feels guilty that they're gone yet he's still alive." She reflected for a moment on how similar he was to Casavir in that respect. "Since I'm the closest thing to kin he has left, so I'll talk to him tomorrow or the next day."

They looked over the duty rosters for a while until Dee said, "If we are finished here, I have enough time for a bath before I meet Kraven."

Kana replied with an utterly droll delivery worthy of Sand, "Indeed. However, I shall wait to have him summoned until you and your lord have returned and I'm certain you'll have time to speak with him."

Dee was still laughing as she closed the door and then headed for her room, keeping to the shadows as much as she could with a large bear in tow so that no one else might stop her for a 'word' that would be at least a hundred or a 'moment' that would stretch into an hour.

Casavir, meanwhile, had gone to the temple for a time of prayer and mediation in the cool quiet there. Brother Ivarr beckoned him into his office after the paladin finished his prayers and stood to light a candle. The dwarven priest motioned Casavir to a wooden chair, which was a bit too small to accommodate someone of his height, and so he sat awkwardly with his knees halfway to his chin. At the priest's request Casavir gave him an account of their time on Mount Galardrym, ending with an earnest proclamation, "But thanks be to Tyr for helping us to prevail and bringing us all back safely."

The priest poured them each a goblet of a yellow-green herbal liquor that he brewed in the cellar that Casavir thought smelled like linseed oil as he listened. He handed one to the paladin. "And how are you, young man? I'm sure you know I called you in here because as your spiritual advisor, I feel I must continue our last discussion." What was unsaid was that he had been asked by Prior Hlam to observe the young paladin. "You've been in my prayers since that day. Has our lord eased your doubts regarding any conflict between your relationship with the Knight Captain and your relationship with him?"

Casavir took a sip and frowned at the topic as much as at the bitter taste of the potent drink, regretting that he had even brought up what to him was only a passing thought. "I think so. I've looked into my heart, Father, and I don't believe as you suggested last time that I have doubts simply because I'm growing tired of being with her or that our relationship is only carnal. Far from it, we often go days with no time for physical relations as we are often camping or too tired at the end of the day for anything more than holding each other while we drift off to sleep. I care for her deeply, and she cares deeply for me as well. I put her first ahead of my own desires and needs. For example, I've conquered my need to rush to her side to protect her in battle because I realized that doing so diminished her in the eyes of the others. Nor is it just, as she's become a formidable fighter. I have searched my heart and found that I am...content when I am with her, happy even, as I have not been in a very long time." He grimaced painfully at exposing this much of himself even to a priest but covered this with another forced drink of the vile liquor.

Brother Ivarr quaffed his own drink and poured himself another. "So you care about one another, and she makes you happy. Then what is the problem?"

Casavir took another sip and sighed. "I'm not sure, Brother. I am happy. Moreover, she tries to finds ways to make me happy. She seeks my opinion on everything from allocation of funds to how she should wear her hair. It's silly I know, but that means much to me. The problem is when we are not together. But she insists I should have time for myself, for my art, and she wants me to keep my own chamber so I have a place to be alone with my thoughts and to meditate before our lord. Yet when I am alone for too long I fall into my old habits of brooding. I fear sometimes that my feelings for her are too strong, and that in the end I will put her before Tyr."

The priest shrugged and stated the obvious. "And that is why many of your calling choose a solitary life, though Tyr certainly doesn't require it. You are a healthy young man with a man's needs, and Tyr understands that. I still think there's more you're not saying, and as your priest I want to get to the bottom of it, though I'll probably send you running for the door again." But his gray eyes shone with compassion. "Could it be that you are content for now with her while you both face imminent death, but you fear the happiness won't last? It's easy enough for young men of your melancholic temperament to give up your life for a cause such as hers, but to live, now that's another matter entirely."

Casavir frowned and indeed looked toward the door as if seeking an escape. This priest had an uncanny habit of exposing his deepest fears, things that sometimes he wasn't aware of himself until they were exposed to the light of day. He turned back to the priest trying to hide his irritation. "I have asked her to marry me, and she has agreed. I would certainly call that a commitment to her, to us, and to our future. The only thing I question is whether it possible to be a husband and someday perhaps a father, and at the same time to serve Tyr as his paladin, especially considering that there's a good chance I'll leave her a widow with children to raise alone if I continue down this path."

The priest smiled gently and patted his hand. "Possible. Indeed, it is very possible, though it's a delicate balance. Besides, those anecdotes about paladins dying young in a blaze of righteous glory don't match the facts. I can tell you that a good many paladins die in their own beds of old age. I would suggest you look into your heart and ask yourself if you asked her to marry you because you want to spend your life with her, or if you did it for some other reason, such as a fear of losing her to another. That begs another question, my boy. Are you strong enough to part from your lady if Tyr were to require it of you?"

Casavir looked stricken at the thought, but he nodded his head. "Yes, though I feel he has sent me to help her with her life's mission. There is no other explanation for the way our paths crossed at Old Owl Well. I believe that if she has been called to defeat the King of Shadows, I have been called to stand by her side until the end."

The priest cocked his head and grinned at him in a way that made Casavir wonder how much he had drunk already before he came in. "But again, it's not so much dying for her as it is living with her afterwards that's difficult, isn't it?" He refilled his glass and moved to refill Casavir's, but he shook his head and hastily put his hand over the top. Brother Ivarr chuckled merrily. "It's an acquired taste, but you'll find it's very good for the digestion." Casavir didn't look convinced, and the priest regarded him for a heartbeat before he continued, "You lost your parents when you were very young, as I understand it from your file. Were they happy together? Did they quarrel? Was your father faithful to your mother?"

Casavir sat back in his chair, pain darkening his handsome face. "I hardly remember them. I was very young when they died."

Brother Ivarr patted his arm. "I believe you were about seven or eight, were you not? That's certainly old enough for them to have formed a strong impression upon you even if your memories are fading. I understand that it's painful to dredge up the past, but doing so may provide the answers to your questions."

Casavir muttered a terse "Very well," and took a deep calming breath and drained his goblet before he began. "From what I remember, my father adored my mother. They were always touching and kissing. He called her his muse, and indeed I see her face in the many angels that adorn the tombs in Neverwinter." He closed his eyes tightly and struggled to find the words. "Their relationship was very passionate in every way." He flushed crimson as he recalled how he and his brothers would pretend they didn't hear the sounds of their parents' passion coming from their room late in the night. "But yes..they did quarrel too. They both had volatile tempers, my mother especially." The priest nodded and encouraged him to continue.

Casavir closed his eyes for a moment as he thought. "One of the last things I remember is being awakened late one night by the sound of something breaking. I was always a light sleeper, so I crept out of bed to see what was the matter. I couldn't make out my father's words because they were slurred, but my mother clearly said between sobs, 'You always want to bed your models. Do you expect me to feel lucky that you choose to come home to me?' I didn't understand her words, but I remember the look of utter desolation on her tear-streaked face. I don't know what came over me, but suddenly I was filled with hatred for him. I ran out and jumped at him, pounding him with my little fists. I remember he reeked of strong drink. He grabbed me and pinned my arms to my sides until my fury was spent and I collapsed sobbing against his chest, not saying a thing, but I could feel his tears falling on my head. I remember my mother kneeling beside me and putting her arms around me too, stroking my hair and telling me that everything was alright and that sometimes adults had disagreements. They held me until I had no more tears and my father took me from my mother and carried me back to my bed. That was mere tendays before the plague that took their lives struck our village."

The priest smiled tightly, finally getting somewhere. "Can it be you're you afraid you'll become like your father? Yet I can't see you plowing other fields." He tapped his chin with his thick index finger. "Or is it...you fear your lady will tire of you? Or worse, that you'll have her snatched away from you as your family was? If you're alone, you don't have to fear the pain of loss. Easier, yes, but think of the happiness you would be denying yourself. Loss is part of life, my boy. Even if you fear one of you or both won't survive, I would advise you to take advantage of the time you have left." Casavir said nothing, being deep in thought. The priest smiled kindly and took the glass from him. "You may go now, I'm through with my interrogation, and moreover, it's time for my nap."

Casavir stood stiffly and walked to the door. "Thank you, Brother. I shall think on what you said and seek our lord on the matter." He walked out of the temple into the afternoon heat and back to the Keep, feeling like the priest had eviscerated him, but feeling cleansed at the same time.

Bishop had followed him out of the Keep proper and waited for him squatting in the shade outside the temple until he came out. He followed him back, hoping to catch him alone and drop a few insinuations, but Sir Nevalle hailed Casavir, who turned and met him halfway to his tower. He talked with Casavir for a few moments, showing him what looked like a letter. Bishop cursed under his breath and waited out of sight until the knight walked away and Casavir entered the Keep proper, and then he waited a few heartbeats and followed him in. There was no one but a guard in the audience chamber, but Casavir and Bishop both noted that Kana's office door was shut. He watched the paladin hesitate outside the door with his hand raised to knock then turn and walk to the stairs leading up to their private chambers. He crossed the chamber quickly to catch him.

Dee left Kana's office minutes later. She and Cillian moved quietly so she could avoid any encounters except the one she wanted. As she neared the landing she heard voices, and there was something about the tone that made her pause and lean against the wall. One was Casavir's deep baritone saying coldly, "My problems are my own, not Neverwinter's, or yours."

She listened to hear who he was speaking with and realized the other was Bishop, saying, "A man's gotta be honest not only with himself, but with his comrades and his allies." What could he mean by that? Her first instinct was to step out from the shadows and let them know she was there. But for some reason she didn't understand she drew back further and motioned Cillian behind her and eavesdropped, blushing with shame while she did. She couldn't make out Casavir's deep rumbling reply, only something about 'feelings for her.' She realized they were arguing about her and it wasn't simply Bishop playing his favorite game, 'Taunt the paladin.'

Just then Karnwyr looked over in her direction, and Dee was sure he must have caught her scent or Cillian's as she heard Bishop saying something like, "It's going to bring trouble if you're not honest with yourself this time around." He glanced towards the wolf then towards her hiding place and gave her a sardonic grin and turned on his heel and walked off towards the back stairs.

Bishop felt oddly elated though he knew the danger he was in if she confronted him and ordered him away from the Keep. Garius's geas would kill him for sure. Once he was out of her range of vision he bolted down the stairs. He thought as he escaped. If she confronted him, he could act contrite. He could make himself a good little dog like that Luskan, and show her he was still a wolf later. That's the problem with these holy types, he mused. If you say you're sorry and act like it, they have to believe you. He would just have to watch himself.

Casavir gritted his teeth and sent a silent prayer to Tyr for strength to resist the ranger's taunts. He turned and walked to their door, but then he thought better of it. He needed to think, and he needed communicate with Tyr, and that wouldn't happen if she was waiting for him there. He walked on and went into his old room.

Dee continued to watch Casavir as he stood there, barely restrained anger etched on his handsome face. Her heart caught in her throat as he turned in the direction that Bishop had gone because she feared that whatever Bishop had said had pushed Casavir over the edge, and she went up another step to catch him. But he quickly composed himself as he always did and walked to their door to their private chamber. Yet once he reached the door, he stood there staring at it then walked on to his own chamber. Dee closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall and whispered, "Bish, what are you up to?"