Gozran 8th, 4711 AR
Hark heard the signal… he knew his debt repaid and turned his troops once more towards the desert wastes
Gozran 15th, 4711 AR
Alma sat upon her mound of cushions enjoying so form of frosted treat.
“Amyrill, darling, I can’t express my appreciation enough for your coming to my little mountain town!”
“Um. You could pay me ma’am.” explained the elf with a cool breeze about her.
“Oh of course darling! You keep the white dragon sundaes flowing my way and soon enough you’ll be a part of my personal staff!”
Garavel steps out from behind the curtain of Alma’s room and lifts his fist to clear his throat.
“Ahem! Lady Alma… The meeting concerning Father Zastoran’s disciple will begin momentarily… should I escort miss-”
“Oh no!” cried Alma. “She can stay Garavel, don’t worry about it… have you tried these!?”
Aalim and Irizatih stood gloriously, covered with much oil, in front of Alma’s office while Char, Magni, and Arturas measured up their new guests.
“So are you guys some kind of-”
Arturas was interrupted by the office door swinging open as Garavel stood in it’s frame glaring down at Arturas with a look of disgust and then to the rest of the company.
“The Lady Alma awaits…”
Garavel leads the guests into Alma’s chamber where he directs them to a table where the Lady Alma stands ready to have the meeting begin.
“Out with it then cleric. What news do you bring us of Father Zastoran’s pilgrimage? Will he be returning soon?"
“Uh-um… well the thing is you see…” Irizatih stumbled over his words as regret invaded his heart.
“… Father Zastoran is dead…”