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Part 15


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#1 Guest_Flarn_*

Posted 19 May 2003 - 12:56 AM

"Good," Alyndria closed the journal with a decisive thud. "It's settled. We resupply ourselves and then journey to the Winspear Hills to help this Lord-Whomever. Imoen will be happy to know what we've accomplished, that we have freed the Dryads, nothing beautiful should have to remain in a place like that."
Khalid smiled at her, a strange smile, of contentment mixed with sadness. It was not difficult to guess, by the softness in his dark eyes, that he thought of another who would be pleased by their actions.

"Hmm," Alyndria mused aloud. "Some inns keep a supply of equipment on hand for sale... if we're going to be investing in better supplies, I think we should make sure we have looked at all the options. I think I'll go over and have a chat with the barkeep."

"I will come with you," Khalid offered.

"Nonsense," Alyndria waved him back to his seat. "I think we've seen the worst this place can offer. I won't be but a few moments - if I see anything extra special, I'll wave you over."

Rising from her seat, she started across the bone-strewn floors, her goal in mind the long bar at the far end of the inn, but she barely made it half way past the long roasting pits before trouble intervened.

A trio of the most unsavoury sort stepped in front of her blocking her access as they looked her up and down, rudely assessing her charms. She suddenly recalled their leering faces and realized they were the same rough sort who had been regarding her on her last visit.

"Oy!," exclaimed one of them, stepping to the fore, obviously the leader. He wore a roughly patched leather tunic, and a short sword belted round his waist. His hair was lanky, dirty and brown, though Alyndria suspected a much lighter shade if it were ever washed. "Look at th' dolly girl, all sacked up like an 'adventurer'. Are ye supposed to be tough or something, aye?"

Alyndria met his beady gaze unflinching. "I'm not here to impress you, sir. Hurl your insults elsewhere." Turning her shoulder, she tried to make her way past the group.

Effortlessly, the brown-haired wretch sidestepped to block her path again as his two cohorts snickered. "Oh, 'sir', is it? Ha ha! I was right, yer a bleedin' coward! Admit it!"

"I'll admit to nothing. And I refuse to continue this sparring with you." Again she tried to pass, and again had her way thwarted, so she turned back towards her companions, intending to go around the firepits.

Their taunts followed her, like the braying of barnyard animals. Yes, that was all they were. "Poor baby! Poor little girl! Going to run home to yer mother, aye? Oh, yes, ye are a scary one! Ha ha!" The two companions had circled round, effectively blocking her access from both routes - she glanced towards the table where her companions sat, but obviously they hadn't heard the altercation over the din of the inn's other patrons.

Trapped. Alyndria remembered this sensation all too well, and didn't like it. She could feel the hairs of her neck stand on end and the first beginnings of a rage which was growing rapidly familiar. "I've no wish to cause any trouble or disturbance, here. Desist."

The leader put his hands on his hips with mock joviality. "Oh, o' course not. Yer a goody-goody, ain't ye? An adventurer, prancin' through th' forests!"
"Please leave me alone," she tried again. "I'll be on my way."

"'Please leave me alone'!" The leader and his companions guffawed. "Oooooh, what is th' matter, aye? Am I scarin' ye down to yer little booties, aye?"
Alyndria levelled her gaze again at both the men. /I am not afraid of you, merely angry,/ she thought uncharitably. /Why can't you fools tell the difference?/ "Your barbs have no effect on me. I asked you to leave me alone and I meant it."

For a long moment she stared at the ringleader, until finally he laughed a great, boorish laugh. "Ha ha! Very well then, coward, be on yer way." He motioned for his minions to step aside and let her pass. "Come back when ye're ready to face a real man! Ha ha!" He made a lewd motion with his hips that left no doubt what 'facing a real man' would entail.

The two henchmen took up the gesture, and followed it with several more obscenities of their own. "You knows it, Amalas! You knows it! Come back when ye can face a real man, fancy girl! Ha!"

Alyndria continued on her way towards the far end of the bar, her pride a little beaten on the one hand, and yet buoyed by the fact that she had been able to keep her temper and avoid a conflict even though more and more she had wanted to wipe that insinuating smirk of that despicable man's callow face. But she had persevered, and shown discretion worthy of a priestess of Ilmater...

Yes, the situation couldn't have gone much better really.

"You insult Alyndria and you insult Minsc! There will be liberal butt-kicking, now!!"

Alyndria groaned. What was that old saying? Pride goeth before a fall. She turned back towards the scene she had just left, heard the *shing* of swords being drawn as Minsc advanced, his two-handed sword gleaming wickedly.

Amalas, the ringleader, drew his shortsword while his companion pulled a wicked axe from his belt - the third, grinning toothily, grabbed a chair and smashed it against the railing, making for himself a makeshift club.

"Minsc!" Alyndria shouted. "Minsc, stand down - these scum aren't worth it!"
The Berserker ignored her, however, bringing his sword down with an angry howl at one of the nearby ruffians. Alyndria could see the madness in his eyes, and knew there was no reasoning with him now. Drawing her flail and her morningstar she began to pray, eyes fixed on the scene unfolding.

Two men were attacking Minsc and she saw the others of the group muster to the Berserker's aid, spells flaring to life in Aerie's and Nalia's hands. Khalid had taken up his own axe - preferring the smaller weapon for fighting in close quarters, and advanced to even the odds.

"I'll make ye wish ye'd begged for a taste of me *other* weapon, dolly girl!" The ruffian with a club made a crude swing at Alyndria's head, and she brought up Twilight and the Flail of Ages, barely able to block before the rascal swung again. This was most definitely *not* as easy as sparring with Khalid!

Suddenly the man screamed as a shower of acid hit him squarely in the back, splashing over his shoulders and face. The man fell, clawing at his tunic and his skin and Alyndria was tempted to finish him then and there, but she saw Minsc, floundering unbelievably under the combined onslaught of Amalas and his fellow thug - the louts must have made a career of picking fights, they were, for all their loud brashness, very cool and calculated in the heat of battle - quite the opposite of an enraged Berserker. They were literally cutting chunks out of him, and though he didn't seem to feel it, Alyndria could see the blood literally streaming from his wounds as he fought on, howling, growling like a bear who had been baited and harried by dogs to the very edge of death.

"Somebody help him," Alyndria screamed, throwing herself onto the back of the nearest ruffian, just as he brought his axe up, taking a swing at Minsc's vulnerable neck. She slashed her foe down the front of his armour with the Flail of Ages while trying desperately to keep hold of his neck and Twilight at the same time.

She had time to glimpse Khalid wading into the fray with his own axe, drawing Amalas away from Minsc who continued to swing his sword this way and that, wreaking as much destruction upon the furniture as he did upon their attackers.

"Minsc," Alyndria cried, "please come out of it, you're in serious danger, you need to stop. Please!"

Hands suddenly seized her and pulled her from her foe's back, spun her to face the man whom Nalia's acid spell had caught. With a malicious gleam in his eyes, shining through a face which had been half-eaten away - he drew back his hand for a punch.

Behind her, Alyndria heard a sickening, meaty thud, and the man who had been holding her fell. Reacting faster than thought, she ducked under the guard of her oncoming assailant and swung both Twilight and the Flail of Ages straight into his ribcage, watching in satisfaction as her enemy fell and rose no more.

"Are you alright?" Khalid's hesitant voice, filled with concern, was like a benediction to her ears.

"Yes, Minsc...?"

"I've got him, Alyndria!" Aerie called, kneeling by the fallen Ranger who had finally succumbed to blood loss. A soft blue glow suffused her hands and she channelled it into the severely wounded man, then summoned another.

Feeling helpless, Alyndria gave in to the jangling of her nerves and kicked over a nearby chair, surprised when it smashed against the railing.

"You called on the strength, I think," Khalid told her softly.

"It was all going so well, they would have been alive if they had just kept quiet. I tried, Khalid, I tried not to resort to violence. I wanted to take the path of peace... you saw, they were so nasty, but I fought. Even their miserable lives are worth more than foolish pride..."

"It's not your fault," Khalid asserted, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Minsc wanted to protect you, and really, well, I didn't like the look of that sort much myself - they weren't the type of people you can safely turn your back on, Alyndria..."

Alyndria sighed. "Apparently *we* aren't the type of people you can safely turn your back on either Khalid."

"Umm, Alyndria," Aerie called, "I've used most of my spells and Minsc is still hurt pretty badly."

She brushed past Khalid. "Excuse me..."

"Oh Minsc," Alyndria sighed as she regarded the wounded Ranger. "What are we going to do with you? I'm really sorry, I tried to get closer so I could heal you, but you were just too fast."

"Witchpriest will fix me up now," a great, bloodstained paw of a hand settled on Alyndria's armoured shoulder. "'It's the thought that counts,' says Boo."

"Boo is a wise rodent," Alyndria agreed, closing her eyes to summon the energy for another spell, felt the blessing, the compassion of her god pour in like balm upon her soul, leaving her momentarily cleansed of anger. She released healing into the man before her, then sat back on her heels. "That should do it. I know you only meant to defend me, Minsc, but there was no danger... they were all talk."

"Talk leads to action," Minsc regarded her solemnly.

Alyndria sighed again. "Does Boo say that too?"

"No," replied Minsc, "I do. There will not be another who dies in my care. Boo knows this."

"I understand, but can you *please* try to pick your battles, just a little? I don't want anyone else to die in *my* care either, hmmm?" She glanced away momentarily. "I don't think I could bear it."

"Witchpriest speaks of things she does not understand." Minsc rose unsteadily to his feet.

"But Minsc," Alyndria craned her neck to look up at the towering giant before her. "I do... they were my friends too."

"NO!" With a brow suddenly dark and furrowed as a thunderhead, it was hard for Alyndria to recognise the gentle giant she had become accustomed to.

"Witchpriest does NOT understand. Minsc was protector, it was Minsc's job to PROTECT, to DIE, but there was no chance given, none but to watch and DO NOTHING! If I die, my life is freely given, sooner than I will choose to live alone to bury the friends I have FAILED!!!"

Alyndria's eyes filled to overflowing at the sudden, unexpected anger, though she knew instantly it was not directed at her. She could see the hurt, the pain in the tattooed warrior's eyes.

"Minsc, I..."

"You have a good heart, Alyndria," Minsc patted her shoulder again. "But you know little of the world, even now... Boo says we should have time for 'reflection' - we will be back, do not fear." He went to their table and pulled his helm and cloak from his seat, and stepped out into the night.

Alyndria stared after the Berserker for long moments, tears running unbidden down her cheeks. But he had seemed so cheerful... had borne all so well with the help of Boo...

No, she realized, he had not borne it so well, but she had been too busy, locked within her own sorrows, her wish to find Imoen, her own grief over her friends lost... And... she paused in her thoughts, paused wilfully though the answer was all but screaming on the edge of her nerves... Yes, she had been absorbed in her own pain, but there was one person of whom she had been extremely solicitous. Khalid. The truth of it had been staring her in the face for days, though she had stubbornly ignored it. Why else had she been so kind to him, but out of the hope that he might, in his vulnerability, somehow turn to her?

She felt angry tears sting her eyes again, more bitter than before as the realization sank in. It was true. It was all true.

*Doing all the right things for all the wrong reasons,* a malicious voice inside her taunted. *Some friend you are, Alyndria of Candlekeep - Alyndria, daughter of Bhaal.*

She did not hear the footsteps approach her as she stood forlornly amidst the wreckage they had caused, three corpses at her feet, and all but the very life's blood of another friend spilled nearby.

"Fair lady," a softly accented voice interrupted her thoughts, "what brings you to this cesspool of corruption?"

Alyndria turned, expecting, well, something different from what she saw based on the subtle, cultured, slightly nasal inflection of the voice which had suggested, as a first impression, a hint of... snobbery. The face the voice belonged to looked far more kind, seemed kinder still at this moment when she felt suddenly so lost and abandoned. He was handsome too, clad in armour, a veritable storybook knight with dark hair, tanned skin, a beard - which was odd to her on such a young man - and brown eyes, their rich, liquid colour seeming to brim with understanding. They, together with the beard the stranger sported, put her very much, and all too painfully, in mind of Gorion.

This, more than anything she saw only made her wish she could start crying again as she took her eyes from the stranger's face to survey the destruction around her. Alyndria gave a little, mirthless laugh, and shrugged her shoulders as if to say 'Isn't it obvious?'

"I seek adventure and honour."

The armoured knight before her touched her shoulder very briefly, drawing her out of her fruitless contemplation. She could see sympathy and curiosity in his gaze as she returned her attention to him. "Chance smiles upon you for I am an adventurer of some worth. I am Anomen, warrior priest of Helm." He paused, asking more softly. "What is your name?"

She shrugged again, but remembered her manners, and offered him the best smile she could muster under the circumstances. "I am Alyndria. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Alyndria," Khalid hovered protectively nearby, and she saw Yoshimo, his hand on his katana, Nalia and Aerie, still ready to cast a spell at a moment's notice. Scorch peered out from beneath a chair.

"It's alright, Khalid, everyone - He means no harm."

"I saw the battle, my lady," Anomen replied, evidently catching the reason for the concern of her friends, "it was most fierce - I would have joined the fray, but it was over so quickly. The world is well rid of that sort. Though not so well rid of the Warrior who engaged them to defend your honour - magnificent fellow, if a little hasty..."

Alyndria bit her lip at the mention of Minsc.

"I am sorry," Anomen's voice softened, "you two had words. I did not mean to dredge up such a painful subject. But surely he will be back - I see the concern in your eyes for those with you and I cannot help but think that perchance I have found worthy companions. I seek to be knighted in the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart and I must prove my worth, first. Have you need of a strong sword, my lady?"

Alyndria found herself smiling as she glanced down at the weapon adorning the eager knight's belt. "A sword is all well and good, but I would hate to see your vows foresworn because I was picky about your choice of weapon. A mace will do, good sir."

Anomen followed her gaze, and Alyndria thought she could see a faint hint of colour beneath his tan. "Right, a mace it is, then. And please, my lady, you must call me Anomen."

"Anomen," Alyndria agreed. "But I caution you this is only temporary, until my friend returns. It could very well be tomorrow, I - I've never seen him like this."

"Your loyalty is commendable," Anomen said. "I am sure adventure and honour await us both."

"I should tell you first, perhaps," Alyndria began, "that I seek to rescue an old friend who is being held hostage by the Cowled Wizards. There may be significant risk."

Anomen tilted his head quizzically. "Truly? It sounds like a worthy cause to pursue. But who is this friend that you speak of?"

"An old friend... Imoen. We grew up together at Candlekeep, and I'm not about to abandon her to these wizards."

This time the warrior priest's eyes widened subtly, but he quickly recovered with a broad smile. "Ah, the rescue of a childhood companion! Come, then, my new friend! Let us strive to find this Imoen of yours and challenge all the dangers that bar our way!"

His enthusiasm was certainly contagious, and though he seemed somewhat older than she was, it was Alyndria who felt old at that particular moment. "The first danger we must challenge is meeting the rest of my companions." She turned to Khalid who was hovering nearby. "Khalid, this is Anomen, he will be joining us for a little while. Anomen, this is Khalid, he adventured with my father long ago and is now lending his experience to me."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," Khalid stammered, looking up at the much larger man before him. Though not quite as tall or broad as Minsc, Anomen was quite sizeable in his own right.

The two men shook hands, sizing each other up in that strange way men have, smiling hesitantly before taking a step back.

"Come Anomen, are you hungry?" Alyndria motioned him towards the table which the rest of the group now warily garrisoned, including Scorch, who was back up amidst the supper dishes. "We ordered a substantial meal, and I find I don't really have much appetite anymore. I'm afraid it's cold..."

"That doesn't matter to me, my lady," Anomen replied. "I am accustomed to trail rations which are as old as the hills themselves - your banquet, however cold, will be a feast, and especially when adorned with such... such... delightful company." He smiled towards Nalia and Aerie.

"Everyone, allow me to introduce Anomen - he's in need of some experience before he can be knighted, so I would like to take him along with us for a little while, if that's alright?"

There were nods around the table.

"Good, allow me to introduce Nalia de'Arnise - "

The redhead smiled thinly up at the armour clad priest. "We've met."

"Alyndria..." Khalid began.

""Not now, Khalid... Aerie, our resident priest and mage."

The avariel girl smiled, and waved her fingers shyly.

"Yoshimo, a warrior of Kara'Tur, and our resident financial... advisor, and supply officer." Alyndria grinned at the thief who offered her a quick wink of amused approval at her description of his position within the group.

"But Alyndria..."

Alyndria frowned at Khalid, her gaze inquisitive. It wasn't like him at all to be so disruptive.

"Oh, and who is your little friend, my lady?" Anomen indicated Scorch. The small dragon had just lifted his head from Alyndria's tankard of cider with a delicate belch of satisfaction. "What a strange and wondrous little fellow! Moira would adore him..." he added more softly, thoughtfully, almost to himself.

"This is my familiar. He is called - Hey I told you to stay away from that!" Alyndria glared at the little dragon, who slunk away from her tankard, looking suitably embarrassed. "As I was saying, his name is..."

"Knight Roaster!" exclaimed Scorch with a hiccup - apparently the alcohol was going straight to his little head as he swaggered drunkenly across the table towards Anomen - even more impressive on four legs than it was on two - his wings held up for balance. "In a past life I used to be a real dragon - and I'd swallow knights like you whole and use your swords to pick my teeth!"

"Really?" said Anomen, recovering quickly from the initial surprise of being addressed by the small dragon. He chuckled. "Then how does it feel now that your erstwhile prey is bigger than you?"

"Don't mess with me, Knight Boy," the little dragon warned, its intelligent eyes growing beady, and taking on a dangerous hue of red.

"Charming, oh he is just *charming*... Too bad all dragons were not like him. What are you going to do, O Gigantic One - light a taper?" Reaching out, Anomen tried to pet the small reptile on its scaly, ruffled head.

The small dragon took a deep breath, filling its tiny chest, and then a surprisingly impressive gout of flame launched from its small jaws, straight at Anomen's outstretched hand. Alyndria saw the flames connect with dreamlike slowness, saw the transition from pain to rage as the priest of Helm uttered a few very unpriestly oaths, and clutched his wounded hand against his chest. She cringed inwardly in embarrassment, which was quickly dwarfed by fear as Anomen took up his mace, preparing to smash his small assailant into a dragon pancake.

"Please, no," Alyndria threw herself in front of her drunken familiar, heart pounding as she looked up into the scowling face of the man before her. "Anomen? You cannot do this, our life forces are linked - if you hurt him, you will also hurt me. I saw it in your eyes before, I know you are too kind for it..."

After long moments, Anomen stood down, dropping his mace. "Forgive me, my lady..." with his gaze he indicated the rest of the table, though he met no one's eyes, "...all of you. I do not know what came over me." He slumped onto a chair, still clutching his injury, looking down at it in stupefaction as he shook his head. "I assure you... I would never dream of hurting a lady, especially not one so fair - but your familiar, madam, is one of the nastiest drunks I have ever laid eyes on." He glared at the small reptile meaningfully, adding in a low, cryptic tone, "Though he is by no means the worst."

"Scorch never drank before," Alyndria replied, "and he wasn't supposed to now, either. See, Scorch, I told you it wasn't a good idea to stick your snout where it didn't belong. You were very rude to the nice priest of Helm. And I want you to apologize right now."

"Sorry," mumbled the familiar. "He started it."

"I most certainly did not!" Anomen shouted, as the dragon's eyes began to glow red again.

"Gentlemen," Alyndria began. "I see I'm going to have to separate you. Scorch, into the pack, right now."

"But my lady," the little dragon whined.

"Now." The familiar crept morosely into her pack with a last, wounded look towards Alyndria, which she ignored, turning to Anomen again. "I thought it would be a good idea to have a familiar, but apparently I had no idea of the responsibility it entails. I summoned him not too long ago, and I'm quickly discovering he has a mind of his own." She reached out, towards Anomen's burned hand. "May I?"

He nodded, wincing as she carefully cradled his burned flesh. "Perhaps it would be best if I sought another company... after such a poor introduction, I can hardly imagine how you might tolerate me."

"I..." The kindness had returned to his eyes again, along with a certain fearfulness which touched her to the heart. She had a sudden sense that this burn she now tended was not the only wound he bore which required attention. "We all have our faults, Anomen, I am sure... you would not have hurt me." Closing her eyes, she murmured a quick prayer to Ilmater for healing, and found reassurance in the outpouring of power which flowed briefly through her.

The knight before her exhaled a somewhat breathy sigh of relief, then dizzied her with another long look, gratitude filling his inquisitive nut brown eyes. "Only a fellow servant of the gods could be quite so understanding. I thought I saw you tending your wounded friend, and now I see that I was correct in my guess." There was a smile on his lips, and Alyndria felt reassured despite his outburst - though he had a most fiery temper, there were obviously many sides to this man.

Alyndria nodded. "I serve Ilmater."

Anomen blinked slowly, gazing at her, his expression now unnerving but inscrutable. "Well, that does explain a lot. When I saw your familiar I had wondered what a mage was doing in armour. But my lady, Ilmater?" He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "You hardly look the type - you're clean, and you seem to be doing reasonably well in the matter of worldly possessions."

Out of the corner of her eye, Alyndria saw Nalia purse her lips briefly and then open her mouth about to speak. With a mental groan she rushed to fill the void before the opinionated redhead got the chance - there had been more than enough disruption for one day. "While I have met some of the priests you're thinking of, not all of them are so strictly ascetic, I've learned." Alyndria went to take a sip from her tankard, and then paused in distaste as she remembered who drank from it last. Familiar or no, she was not about to drink the leavings of a dragon.

"I did try to tell you," Khalid pointed out. "Shall I get you another?"
Alyndria shook her head, "I was going that way myself before I was so rudely interrupted - and we have new spoils to turn in for cash."

They went to the bar and sold the remainder of their surplus - including the armour which had so recently adorned the bodies of the dead ruffians. This was the part Alyndria hated most, but though it pained her to accept blood money, every coin they earned was one which would contribute to the protection of her friends in the form of new supplies and armour, and ultimately furnish Imoen's rescue.

She surveyed their new companion even as she inspected the wares set before her by the bartender, Bernard. Anomen wore splint mail nearly identical to hers - and she knew very well how it chafed. Well, that was the first order of business - better armour for everyone. Khalid already had a suit of enchanted plate with which he seemed quite content, but the rest of them were in shabby straits indeed.

"Yoshimo, wait! Don't give him that..." Alyndria waved her hand at the thief who was still passing spoils to Bernard who was tallying their coin. "Let me see it."

Arching an eyebrow, the thief passed her the enchanted mace he had been holding, it was of a design quite similar to Aerie's which they had acquired in De'Arnise keep. Alyndria had wondered just what possessed her to keep it though they had already been to see Ribald with their goods, now, however, she saw that it had been divine inspiration, or at least a stroke of excellent luck.

"Anomen give me your mace."

"My lady, I have pledged my weapons to your service but I would prefer to keep them."

"Just trust me - do you have a sling too?"

"Why yes, but..."

"Give both to Bernard..."

Anomen frowned darkly, "Give them to - my lady, if you must know, I cannot afford to replace..."

"I'll do the replacing as long as you travel with me," Alyndria told him, handing him the mace Yoshimo had carried, then rummaged in her own pack, pulling out a sling similar to the one he had relinquished, only of soft grey leather, adorned with runes indicative of a minor enchantment. "We have bullets to go along with that too - would you like glowing pink, or glowing blue? The pink are more powerful, but I can understand if your masculinity is offended by the thought of firing bright pink bullets...

Anomen stared, uncomprehendingly at his new equipment. "My lady, I..."

"These things are quite easy to come by," Alyndria assured him, coming up with a handful of bullets and feeling a hidden, delightful twinge of pleasure at his reaction.

Anomen swallowed, still staring at the weapons in his hands, running his fingers over the magical etchings. "For you, perhaps, but I am just a poor squire, these are not within my means... I don't deserve this. I cannot repay...

"Yes you can," Alyndria told him. "Don't mistake me, I'm not interested in repayment, but if you serve the group well, this, and any other gifts, will be repaid a thousandfold." She turned to Bernard, "That will be all then - what can you give us?"

The bartender offered a handful of coins which Alyndria counted mentally.
"I don't suppose you could throw in something for the slings - they're perfectly serviceable weapons. No? I didn't think so. Do you have more armour perhaps? None of this splint, something enchanted? No... well, perhaps we'll be back later then. To the Adventure Mart... then we can come back here and wait for Minsc."

"Ummm... Alyndria," Khalid hesitantly touched her elbow. "Aren't we forgetting something? Our... quest?"

Alyndria frowned, "but we can't undertake anything yet, not until Minsc returns."

"Well, you'd better tell him that," Khalid replied, nodding towards a dark haired man, dressed in scarlet who was headed their way with a purposeful stride.




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