Thoughts of the nights odd and intriguing events swirled in Tarl’s mind as he climbed into bed in his basement room after staggering across the lane from the Bright Blade Brandished to his boarding house. Meeting the young woodsman Aeron, whose home and family had been taken from him in an act of wanton violence, Faeryl, the gorgeous priestess of a goddess of good-hearted drow, if such a thing really exists, who’d been drawn to the city on a ritual quest by a vision and believed that some greater destiny awaited her, then finally Galen, a young sorcerer and fellow at the Lady’s College, had left him wondering if it had been simple chance or if there really was some higher power, fate or destiny at work tonight? However, such thoughts were too much for his ale soaked brain. He was a simple dwarf, a warrior who had missed the greatest battle of his day, the liberation of Mithral Hall from the evil shadow dragon Shimmergloom and its minions, and left his family’s forge against his father’s wishes in hope of proving his mettle against some great evil, but so far all he’d done is escort merchant caravans traveling eastward through the Silverymoon Pass to Sundabar or south along the river Rauvin to Everlund, defending them against orc raiders, bandits and Uthgardt barbarians. But if they really had been brought together for some greater purpose, as Faeryl ardently believed, could this be the chance to prove his worth that he’d been searching of? “Ahhhhh!” he groaned as he held his head in his hands. He’d drained too many tankards tonight to wrestle with such thoughts… not that he was a deep thinker when sober. If the gods, fate, or destiny had a role for him to play, it would still be there in the morning. Wracking his brain to make sense of these strange events wasn’t likely to gain him anything more than to increase the pounding of the war hammers already at work inside his skull! Morning would tell the tale… if there really was one to tell at all. Resigned to that, he sighed contently as his weary eyes closed and he welcomed the blissful relief of sleep. A wide smile splitting his bearded face as images of the sensually alluring drow Faeryl and her sister priestess of Eilistraee dancing and frolicking naked around a bon fire, a religious rite that she’d described earlier tonight, filled his dreams. ******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************* Disclaimer: Some of the material presented here may be the property of Wizards of the Coast, LLC© taken from the Dungeons & Dragons® Forgotten Realms® Campaign Setting authored by Ed Greenwood & Sean Renyolds, the Dungeons & Dragons® Forgotten Realms® Campaign Accessory Silver Marches® authored by Ed Greenwood and Jason Carl and/or other sourcebooks registered to Wizards of the Coast, LLC©. This is unofficial “Fan Content” permitted under Wizards of the Coast, LLC© Fan Content Policy, it is not approved or endorsed by Wizards of the Coast, LLC©.