After the planar sphere settled back into its place and Dermin left the Coronet, life settled back into a rhythm, more or less; it was a welcome relief after braving the perils of the sphere and the Abyss.
Those members of the Company who had helped conquer the sphere spent some time over the next tenday exploring the place's hidden nooks and crannies, discovering what Lavok had left behind. Nalia largely stayed out of that process, preferring to spend her time tinkering in the engine room, determined to figure out how to remove the sphere from Athkatla for good or ill.
There was also the matter of the Knights, the halflings, and the sahuagin. Dealing with the last were easiest.
In the dead of night, Nalia along with several hired guards escorted the fish-people to a beach north of the city and bade them farewell — but not before promising that dire consequences would follow if they were seen attacking Amn.
As for the Solamnic Knights, once they had recovered from their ordeal, Aerie contacted Ribald Barterman. As it turned out, the old adventurer knew a planeswalker who worked only on commission. Aerie quickly made introductions, and with Reyna's share of the treasure, the knights were finally sent home.
That only left the halflings. They were uncomfortable with the prospect of finding a new home on Toril and opted instead to remain within the sphere, holding onto their hope of returning to their desert planet or somewhere similar. Largely keeping to themselves, they nevertheless were just as interested in keeping out intruders from the sphere as Nalia was.
When all was said and done — and the magical items were disposed of through the proper back channels — the treasure in the sphere worked out to around eight thousand gold for Reyna and the others who had traveled with the sphere, split evenly.
For most of them, the treasure didn't change the reality of their day-to-day. Minsc bought a few rounds for patrons at the Coronet, Lidia advanced several months' fees for their rooms at the Coronet, and Nalia mostly used hers for her research.
But for Aerie and Haer'Dalis, the money made all the difference for the play the actor hoped to stage by midsummer.
In between her long hours at the Five Flagons, Aerie still paid regular visits to the Coronet. Every time she visited, she had a story of the little dramas unfolding as the larger came together: this actress sniping at the other over being chosen for the lead role, the director sleeping with another actress and speaking sweet promises he had no way of keeping, small accidents that always seemed to follow any time anyone spoke the play's true name. Minsc had been helpful too, scaring away curious intruders and lending his muscle towards building the sets, though he complained the paint irritated Boo's nose.
She was excited for the play's prospects, though she refused to call it anything other than "the Turmish play" to ward off bad luck. Still, the wealth pried from the planar sphere was enough for she and Haer'Dalis to make lavish investments. They spared no expenses for costumes and props, were interviewing criers to spread the word as opening night approached, and even retained several professional artists to render scenes from the play onto backdrops.
Jaheira, meanwhile, was restless, spending much of her time roaming the city in the form of a dog or bird. She kept Lidia apprised of her comings and goings, and had taken on a new project: keeping an eye on Mae'Var and Dermin's plans for him. Dangerous as it was, it gave her something to do, especially since she knew as little of Spellhold as Lidia did.
Jaheira had also managed to contact Viconia DeVir about what, exactly, had happened to Edwin. The drow doubted Edwin was actually dead — "I doubt we could be so fortunate" were her words — but regardless, neither she nor anyone else had seen any sign of him since he went to confront one of the Cowled Wizards.
As the weather warmed and the month of Kythorn progressed, the streets throughout the city also became busier both by day and night.
While, closer to the Promenade, this meant the promise of another profitable summer season, in the River District it mostly meant trouble. Besides the higher number of hucksters, petty thieves, and conmen plying their trade by day, Shadow Thieves and the vampires were engaging in all-out fights in the streets by night, each trying to get more numbers on their side as the battles for territory escalated.
About a tenday after Lidia had emerged from the sphere, one incident finally brought tensions at the guardhouse to a head.
Across the district from where she'd patrolled that night, another group of guards came to a street fight involving five of the Shadow Thieves, two vampires, and one vampire thrall. That thrall was a member of the Guard who had gone missing a few days ago; by now, their will had been completely replaced by that of the two vampires who had attacked.
Khellor had led that group. They returned several hours later, bloodied with an utterly defeated look on their faces, carrying the slain thrall and another dead guard on their shoulders. A third, who they identified as the veteran guard Shila Oakfist, was close to death.
They laid her out in one of the empty storage rooms, a small, dark room with one window and a lamp. In the midst of the chaos when that patrol had come in, someone had thought to bring in Lidia, who had just come back from patrolling the other side of the River District.
Lidia sat down next to the guard, then cast her usual series of healing spells, focusing on the puncture wounds in Shila's neck. There was no way to tell how much blood the halfling had lost, but by the look of her, she'd only been a few deep draws away from becoming a vampire thrall herself.
Once she'd done everything she could, Lidia sat back for a moment, leaning against a wooden box, not trusting her legs yet.
Before long, Commander Roenall joined her. Though he was technically her boss, this was the first time they'd met face-to-face; Aegisfield had returned to his usual post near the Promenade once Roenall had returned from some unknown errand out east.
Aegisfield hadn't stood out as much from his subordinates, wearing the same colors as the rest of the guard, but Roenall, who appeared to be thirty at most, wore a breastplate and carried a sword that each commanded at least a year's salary. And, above all, he looked profoundly uncomfortable in the face of death.
He hovered over both of them for a moment. "Shall we need to send notice to her family?" he asked.
He seemed wearied, rather than saddened by the prospect.
Lidia checked the woman's face, using Azuredge to shed a little more light. She remembered her now — Shila had staked one of the vampires on an earlier patrol.
She was still pale, but her color had improved somewhat, and she was breathing more easily.
She's alive, but she needs a cleric — if she can get to one quickly, she might still make it," Lidia replied.
Roenall acknowledged her with a quick nod, but seemed ready to leave already, and started towards the door.
But he was stopped by heavy footsteps coming from down the hallway.
The steps belonged to Khellor; he'd wiped the blood from his face, hands, and weapon, but hadn't quite been able to clean the stains from his armor.
He stood in the doorway, nearly shouting at Roenall: "This — I warned you this might happen. Now my people have had to put the stake in a friend, they're wondering if they'll have to do it again —"
"Captain Ahmson," Roenall said. "You've forgotten yourself from when I've been absent. I should demand an apology and your truncheon, but I'll settle for the first."
Khellor quickly checked himself, mumbled some perfunctory variation of "sorry," then continued: "We must do something — we can wrap our heads around the Thieves at least, but we need to find out where these monsters come from, what they're doing here, anything. We can't keep throwing good people after them."
Commander Roenall folded his arms. "Such concerns are below your station," he said tersely. "And, unless you find this employment intolerable, I strongly suggest you keep them to yourself."
Roenall left, leaving Khellor and Lidia with Shila.
Khellor knelt next to the halfling, then asked Lidia, "She'll live, right?"
"She should," she replied.
He spoke directly to Shila: "Gods. What a mess. Not sure if you can hear me, Spikes, but you can't die on me now. Maybe you could make our dear commander see reason."
He pressed his curled hand to his lips as he stared at Shila's closed eyes, momentarily deep in thought.
He finally turned to Lidia. "I know it's been a long night, but I need to speak with you away from here. Meet me at Delosar's when you can."
As it turned out, Delosar's was a small pub not far down the way from the guardhouse, maintaining its place in a small wooden clapboard house that took something of a patchwork look in the rain. The place was weather-beaten but well-taken care of; while the wooden siding showed its age, warping in places with its proximity to the ocean, one could clearly see the places where the siding had been carefully fixed with whatever planks the owner could get. Its only advertisement as a pub consisted of an old keg on a brass hook hung next to the door.
Still, it was clearly the place Khellor meant, partly because it was one of the few places in this part of town that was open for business.
She pushed the door open, and found there a refuge from the rain. The inside was small but snug, holding fast against the rain. The walls on each side of the door were lined with worn wooden booths, and a fire burned brightly in a stone hearth and chimney next to the bar.
About ten or so people were there, other night-shift people who looked worn from a day's work even as the sky was lightening outdoors. She recognized one or two from the guardhouse — after the night they'd all just had, she could hardly blame them for wanting to get away.
She noticed Khellor right away. Though he was hunched over in the booth, wrapped in his rain-soaked dark cloak, he was easy to notice: he was taller than most of the others there. She approached his booth and sat down opposite from him.
"Thanks for coming," he said. "Anything you'd like, it's on me."
Before Lidia could answer, he continued his thought: "Maybe some kaeth? I promise it's better than whatever ungodly swill Aegisfield likes."
She accepted his offer. After a few minutes, a thin, exhausted bartender brought them two brown mugs and a brown clay stein. Khellor lifted the lid and poured out a steaming, black-brown drink into a mug, which he handed to Lidia.
The drink, a bitter concoction almost too hot to taste, nonetheless could induce wakefulness just from its smell. In the time she took a sip or two, Khellor already had downed most of his kaeth and poured himself a second cup.
After exchanging a few pleasantries, Lidia asked, "Does Roenall have any kind of plan in place for dealing with the guild war?"
"Good question," Khellor said, with a momentary scowl. "Not that he cares. At least Aegisfield tried to do something about it — bringing you onboard and all that."
Lidia said nothing, but furrowed her brow and took another sip.
He explained further: "When we first heard about the Order sending someone to the slums, we were half expecting it to be something like a goodwill gesture and little else, with this 'help' prancing about with their nose in the air as though their feet can't deign to touch the streets. But you've saved lives out there — to the point where I wish we had a few more of you and that axe.
"That's why I wanted to talk, actually. I've made noise and made noise, but Roenall is being slow to move. I'll be honest, some of them give me the shivers, but the truth is the folks in the Order and the temples are better equipped to handle vampires and their ilk. Isn't there anything you can do on your end to rouse them? Maybe have them go over Roenall's head?"
Lidia thought a moment, then replied: "Sir William has also been away for the past couple tendays. He should be back soon, though; I've been summoned to the High Hall to meet him in about another tenday."
"Sooner the better." Khellor leaned over, looking from side to side. "Something's wrong. First the Morningales, and then the vampires attacking, night after night. People are noticing. I've had folks come up to me, wondering why the Guard isn't doing anything — but when we try, we lose people faster than we can replace them. I understand why Roenall might not want to do anything, but it's not enough."
"I can't make any promises," Lidia said, "but I'll see what I can do."
"That's all I ask. Appreciate your ear nonetheless."
He glanced up, then just as quickly lowered his head. "There's someone at your back and near the door who's been staring at us for the past five minutes. You recognize them?"
Lidia slowly turned her head, catching a glimpse of whoever Khellor was talking about.
She didn't recognize who the person was — a dark-haired, pale-skinned half-elf holding a rain-stained cloak close to their body. Nonetheless, though they seemed somewhat impatient, their hands were clearly visible and free from any weapon.
She cast out a thought. It returned empty, but the half-elf noticed her and caught her eye, approaching their booth.
"Pardon me, ma'am," the half-elf said, "but you're the only one here who seems to fit the description I was given. Your name is Lidia, yes?"
She sat up. "I am she. What is it?"
"A message, for your eyes only," the half-elf said, giving a sidelong glance to Khellor.
Lidia excused herself and followed the messenger outside the tavern, drawing her cloak closer as the rain began to pour on her head. Heavy clouds blocked the sun from view, and the sky had lightened as much as it would, promising the day ahead would be cold, grey, and wet.
The messenger hastily handed her a note. Just as quickly, she opened it underneath her own cloak, shielding it from the rain.
The note was in Common, with a few lines written in a bold, outsized hand: "Urgent situation has arisen. Please come at once. -Anomen."
Lidia folded the note and stashed it in a hidden pocket. She asked the messenger, "Where is he?"
"At his father's house, on the southwestern edge of the Center District, past the Promenade on Selemchant Street."
She handed the messenger a couple gold pieces. "Lead me there, if you would."