“You admit your weakness before one who will strike you down for it?” the ghost moaned haltingly, her unyielding countenance seeming to soften for the first time since she manifested before them. “Why expose yourself to my wraith?” “Because truth is the path to enlightenment,” Coran explained. “Only through admitting our faults can we hope to overcome them… denying that darkness still dwells in the deepest recesses of your heart allows it to claw its way out and corrupt you from within.” “And you, who cower from my presence, do you claim to seek enlightenment as well?” the spiritual elf-maiden focused her ghostly eyes upon Mistale, who had remained silently huddled behind the monk. “I have no such lofty aspirations,” the half-elven bard confessed, her voice nearly cracking with fear. “If I manage to lighten the hearts of others with song and story than I have achieved about as much good in the world as I am likely to.” “So you too admit that you are unworthy to tread on the sacred ground of the Vale,” the ghost loomed threateningly once more. “We have not intruded into the Vale,” Taenya asserted forcefully, defensively shielding the clearly terrified half-elf. “You came to us… we only want to continue in peace… and they would not be here if it wasn’t for me. They are accompanying me home to Eilistraee’s temple in the Velarswood after a pilgrimage I undertook to see the Standing Stone. So, I ask again… please allow us to pass in peace? I truly do not want to call on Eilistraee’s might to turn you away.” “If I suffer you to pass unmolested, you will venture no closer to the sacred Vale,” the ghost moaned, her hauntingly chilling tone making it clear that it was not a request, but a demand. “We have no interest in the Vale,” Coran shot back with conviction. “We will hold to the Road until we reach Essembra and from there our path takes us south away from the Vale.” “Very well,” the spectral elf-maid conceded, the harshness of her appearance fading slightly, “I withdraw to my place of rest and allow you to pass in peace as you claim you wish to… but know that if you try to deceive me, or betray your word in any way, my wraith will be swift and terrible!” With that final threat, she floated backward, into the trees that lined the path and slowly faded out of existence, the area around them seeming to grow slightly brighter as she did. “Why didn’t you just turn her?” Mistale demanded with a deep sigh of relief, her body quivering with the fear she had tried to suppress. “Such powerful spirits are resistant to turning,” Taenya explained, trying to comfort the half-elf with a causal embrace. “If she had resisted my attempt, she could have struck before I was able to cast a spell to defend us from her and casting a spell that would shield us was certain to enrage her further. Even if I had been able to turn her, she could have summoned more ghosts or other undead. So close to the Vale, we could have been besieged by a legion of them, and I don’t have the power to deal with so many. Our best hope was to parley with her.” “Well, the only thing I want to ‘parley’ with is a good stiff pint,” Mistale bemoaned, recovering her composure. “So lets get to a tavern where I can ‘parley’ my way through as many as it takes to forget this whole thing ever happened!”