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Entry tags:	aribeth, fanfiction, neverwinter nights

The Aribeth I Know (Part Three)

"Friend warmblood! Friend warmblood!" The tiny voice in Fred's ear barely penetrated his slumber. He opened his eyes, just as a pair of tiny fangs pierced his earlobe and the voice cried again, with a distinctly frustrated tone, "Friend warmblood!"

"Ow!" Fred muttered. "OK, OK, I'm awake."

"Friend warmblood," the voice said, sounding now as if it were greatly relieved. "Warmbloods are outside your den. They disturb the webs of my family. They bring with them rotting meat that walks."

"Rotting meat that...undead." Fred growled. "Thank you, my friend. You should find a very small hole to hide in so you are not harmed in our battle."

"I hide now," the voice agreed. A moment later, a black widow scampered up a web-line to the ceiling, while Fred shook Aribeth awake.

"Necromancers at the door," he explained as he slid his feet into house slippers and grabbed his favorite bastard sword and shield from their rack beside the bed.

"At least it's something we don't have to hold back on," Aribeth teased, while covering herself with a chemise and picking up her swords. "Are you planning to awe them into submission, sweetheart?"

"Nope," Fred shot back, grinning wickedly. "I'm not Smiling Bob."

"Smiling who?" Aribeth asked Fred's back as he moved to open the bedroom door.

Just as Fred was stepping into the hallway, the sound of one of the traps on the front door detonating echoed up the stairs, followed by several cursing voices.

"I count six, love," Aribeth said softly.

"Ditto that," Fred agreed. "And who knows how many undead. Sonic trap should have weakened them some. Question is, will they trigger the holy water?"

"That's likely to depend on how cautious they are now that they've been hurt." Aribeth peered down the stairwell, then nodded to Fred as she began creeping ahead of him, crouched for battle, with both swords in ready positions.

Aribeth was half-way down the stairs, with Fred just a couple steps behind her, when the invaders began cursing again.

"Damn it, Kolzar! What good are your undead if a simple trap kills them?"

"Don't you damn me, Elgon! That trap had enough holy water in it to take a bath in!"

"Would you both shut up! They're going to hear us!"

"Too late," Aribeth announced as she leaped toward the intruders in her living room. "We already did."

"Always leaping before she looks," Fred thought fondly, then quickly threw a spell after Aribeth. Her swords were sheathed in blue fire as the spell took effect.

One of the invaders, a dwarf in heavy plate armor, raised an axe and charged to meet Aribeth. Meanwhile, a human in dark robes hurled a black orb at Fred. Fred threw up his shield, and the orb detonated as it struck, surrounding him in a field of black energy that felt as if he had been coated in molasses. Meanwhile, a bolt of lightning surged out of his shield, back along the path of the orb, to strike the wizard in the chest.

"Watch out!" another human, dressed in leather and moving out of the doorway to free up his bow, called out. "He has a Chaos Shield!"

Aribeth and the dwarf exchanged blows, her swords meeting his axe as she parried his attacks and searched for an opening in his defenses. The wizard, still twitching from the lightning bolt, cursed as his attempt to cast a spell failed. The archer, now clear of the congestion at the doorway, fired two arrows at Fred. The first skimmed past, not quite nicking his ear. The second struck his upper arm, leaving a small bruise as it bounced off. As he turned slowly toward the archer, Fred heard the sound of someone praying to Velsharoon. With an angry light in his eyes, he raised his head and let out a howl. A few moments later, an answering howl came from outside, and Fred grinned at those who dared to invade his home.

"Tear them up, Freki!" Fred called, as he forced his way through the magic slowing him. Outside, the howl changed to an ululation that sent the wizard fleeing into the house, dropping his bag of components as he ran. The sounds of running from outside told Fred that Freki's howl had worked its desired effect on those out there, as well.

"Why won't you just lay down and die!" the archer complained, while firing another shot at Fred, then tossing aside his bow and drawing a scimitar. The archer's shot clipped Fred's shield and bounced away, while Fred swung his sword, just barely missing the archer.

"If they just died, we couldn't have the fun of killing them," the dwarf said, while swinging his axe at Aribeth. Aribeth danced aside, then threw a spell at Fred. When it hit, he felt the molasses leaving his limbs, and he winked at her, before turning his attention back to the archer.

The dwarf, apparently convinced that Aribeth was distracted by her spellcasting, dropped his guard, raised his axe high for a full-power attack, and charged – right into the point of her longsword. His momentum drove him onto the blade, until the tip hit the back of his armor as it exited his body. He looked down at the blade, coughed up some blood, and raised his head, just in time to see her other blade sweeping in to decapitate him.

The archer, seeing Fred and Aribeth both turning their attention to him, threw down his scimitar and raised his hands, calling out, "I surrender! I surrender!"

"Watch him," Fred growled, as he stalked toward the door. "I heard a priest of Velsharoon outside."

"Leave enough to identify, love," Aribeth called after him as she moved to take charge of the archer and the cowering wizard.

Outside, two guardsmen had arrived from the Twisted Tower, and were battling several skeletal warriors. Freki stood over the body of an elf, his fur bristled as he growled at the priestess of Velsharoon, who was in the act of placing a gem into the mouth of one of her fallen comrades.

The guardsmen saw Fred exit the house, and one of them called, "You take care of the priestess! We can handle the skeletons!"

"Got it covered!" Fred called back, as he charged the priestess, his sword already in motion. "Freki! Make sure none of them escape!"

Freki gave a quick bark, then bounded off to circle the house, sniffing out tracks as he went.

The priestess looked up and scrambled away from the corpse she had been standing over, snatching up her staff as she backpedaled away from Fred's charge. She raised her staff defensively, then chanted a quick prayer in a language he didn't recognize, which exploded into a wall of black light that raced outward from her, fading just before it reached the guardsmen. The black light slammed into Fred like a sledgehammer, staggering him for a moment, as it enveloped the skeletons, healing the damage done to them by the guardsmen's weapons.

"That...hurt," Fred growled. He raised his sword and called out, "Kelemvor, grant me your favor!" His sword's glow brightened until it appeared as bright as sunlight, and he charged the priestess.

The priestess slammed the end of her staff into the ground, and a burst of black light raced outward. The light passed through Fred without harming him, but when it passed through the guardsmen, both fell to the ground instantly. The skeletons seemed almost invigorated by the power in the light.

"I have slain your minions," the priestess sneered, as she raised her staff. Fred snarled in wordless rage as he brought his sword down, cleaving through the staff and into the priestess' skull in one stroke.

"I surrender! I surrender!" a voice called from behind Fred. He spun, and saw a hin being herded toward him by Freki. "Tell your wolf I surrender!"

Fred snorted and left the hin to Freki's control, while turning to face the skeletons. He raised his sword and called out, "See how Kelemvor deals with the abomination of unlife!" His sword flashed brightly, and the skeletons crumbled into dust.

"I see how a naked Champion deals with people who threaten his home," Storm said teasingly. "Don't worry. I already called Ingmir. He should be here shortly. Why don't you go get cleaned up?"

"You should get someone to take this hin and his two human friends into custody, too." Fred rested the point of his sword on the ground and leaned on it, then absently rubbed his earlobe. "We're lucky I have friends in all the animal kingdoms."

"Oh?" Storm asked, while casting a Briar Web on the hin. Freki bounded over to nuzzle her hand, wagging his tail as he did so. "He's a sweetie, isn't he?"

"Sure is. Freki's a good boy. As soon as the guards collect the goons, he's getting a treat."

"So how did you know you were under attack?"

"Oh, one of the spiders in the house woke me up," Fred said, smiling. "She was worried enough to bite me when I didn't wake up right away."

"Only you," Storm laughed. "I'd expect that of a drow, not a human."

"I made a deal with the spiders when we moved in," Fred said, while shrugging. "If they ate any vermin that came into the house, they could stay. Apparently they decided that 'rotting meat that walks' was too much for them to deal with."

"What does Aribeth think of that?"

"She thinks that I'm crazy, but she loves me anyway," Fred laughed. "And it's a lot easier for her to let the spiders take care of unwanted bugs than to hunt them down herself."

"I came as quickly as I could," Ingmir panted, still wrapping his sash around his waist as he came to a stop by Storm and Fred. "What happened here?"

"A priestess of Velsharoon slew two guardsmen," Fred said, pointing at the dead guards. "I can't raise them, so if you want them back, you're going to have to do it."

"Oh," Ingmir said. He rushed to the dead guardsmen and began the ritual to restore them to life.

"You called?" asked a guardsman – Fred recognized him as Jelar, the night watch's sergeant – as he came within the light of Fred's sword.

"Prisoners for you," Fred said. "That hin over there, and two humans in the house. Aribeth is keeping the humans in line."

"Just what we need," Jelar said. "Midsummer's coming up, and now we have to deal with unwanted thugs?"

"Could be worse, you know. One of them was a priestess of Velsharoon."

"Damn!" Jelar glanced around, then glared at the hin, who was currently engaged in being very, very still. "You're going to make sure the graveyard is safe, right?"

"Of course," Fred said. "Freki, do you smell any more undead?"

Freki looked over at Fred, without moving from where Storm was scratching just the right spot, and humphed at him.

"I'll take that as a no," Fred laughed. "Don't worry, Jelar. I'll do a full sweep of the graveyard in the morning, and start blessing the older graves while I'm at it."

"Thank you," Jelar said, with a visible note of relief. "I don't want to imagine what the reaction would be if people started seeing their loved ones getting up and walking around."

"Neither do I." Fred let out a sigh and stood, took his sword, and started for the house. "Let's take care of the other prisoners, so Aribeth and I can go back to bed." He grinned at Storm and Freki. "Yes, you silly woof, you can get all the scritches you want."

"Scritches?" Jelar asked as he followed Fred into the house.

"What Storm's doing to him right now," Fred said, laughing. "Somewhere between scratching and petting. Fuzzyfolk really love it."

"Oh." Jelar's response was one Fred was used to by now – the tone that said he wasn't quite sure whether to put it down as a personal form of insanity or just another strange word that didn't translate into Chondathan.

"You're not going to believe this," Aribeth said as Fred and Jelar entered the house. She was sitting comfortably on Fred's desk, her feet propped on his chair and her swords resting on her lap, ready in case either prisoner attempted to cause trouble.

"Not going to believe what?" Fred asked.

"This group was hired by Nasher as bounty hunters." Aribeth practically spat as she gave the news. "If I had any doubts about his changing from the hero I once knew, this dispels them."

"And the Hall of Justice didn't object?" Fred asked, looking from Aribeth to the prisoners.

"The high priest specifically ordered that we bring back your heads," the archer said. "And only your heads."

"Even with your priestess?"

"He seemed amused by her," the archer said. "As if he thought she were particularly appropriate to send against you."

"I can't believe Oleff would have allowed that," Fred said. "Even possessed, that would be too outrageous for him."

"Oleff Uskar?" the archer asked. "He's dead. When we left Neverwinter, they had just hanged him for treason."

"They...killed...him...," Fred growled softly. Aribeth crossed the room to his side and laid a hand on his arm, just above his shield.

"There will be plenty of time to avenge him, my love," Aribeth said gently. "For now, let us focus on what we have promised to do here."

"As long as you're here, there will be more like us," the archer said, smirking. "You're lucky we decided to try to take you out directly. I just hope I live long enough to see the two of you brought down off your high horses."

"You don't know Shadowdale very well, do you, boy?" Jelar asked as he moved to bind the prisoners. "Your kind just bought themselves a world of hurt. We don't take well to outsiders attacking our people."

"No, we don't," Storm said from the doorway. Freki thumped her leg with his tail as he slunk past her to sit at Fred's feet. "In fact, we take it somewhat personally. Don't worry, though. We won't torture you." She smiled as she added, "We won't have to. You'll tell us everything we want to know."

"That's what you think, lady!" the archer shouted defiantly.

"That's what I know," Storm responded brightly. "Are they packaged for delivery, Jelar?"

"Ready whenever you are, Storm." At Jelar's response, the wizard began to look panic-stricken, and opened his mouth to speak, just a moment before he and the archer vanished in a flash of light.

"I can't believe they killed him," Fred murmured, sitting down heavily at his desk. "Sure, he may have had a quarterstaff up his ass, but he was still one of the good guys. You always knew where you stood with him."

"That's probably why they did it," Aribeth said, her knuckles white where she gripped her swords. "He would not stand by and let them pursue whatever evil they had in mind."

"Who are you talking about?" Storm asked. "A priest of Tyr?"

"The Reverend Judge Oleff Uskar," Aribeth said. "He was a senior priest in the Temple of Tyr, and the presiding judge in the Hall of Justice when I served Nasher. Fred's right. Oleff's devotion to justice and good were unshakable. He would never stand by while Nasher and the high priest made a deal with a priestess of Velsharoon."

"The talkative prisoner claimed that Oleff was executed for treason," Fred said.

"Which would make sense if he were the only voice for good left in a city turned to evil," Storm said. "Come to my house tomorrow and we'll see what we can learn."

"As soon as I'm done in the graveyard," Fred said. "I'm going to make sure that everyone buried there is safe from another of her kind, before I do anything else."

"That's just fine," Storm said. "That'll give me more time to prepare for you. I may even have some of the answers we want before you arrive."

"Thank you, Storm," Aribeth said. "I hope you don't mind me kicking you out, but I'd like to get this big oaf cleaned up and back into bed before he falls asleep where he's sitting." She threw a loving smile at Fred as she spoke.

"I don't mind at all, hon," Storm laughed warmly and waved as she led Jelar out the door. "I'll expect the two of you when you've finished your work here, then. Sweet dreams!"

Freki slurped Storm's hand and nosed Jelar, then padded back across the floor to Fred. He looked up and let out a questioning whine, bringing Fred out of his thoughts. Fred laughed and scratched him between his ears.

"That's right. I promised you a treat, didn't I?" Fred chuckled. "Well then, let's see what we have in the kitchen, ne?"

"Don't you dare touch the sausage," Aribeth growled, mock-threatening. "I spent way too much time on it." When Freki looked up at her with puppy eyes, she relented only a little. "You can have a piece of ham or bacon, but no sausage!" Then she turned her gaze on Fred and added, "And you, sir, are not to come back to bed until you get that blood washed off. I have no desire to find someone with a cleaning spell to get blood stains out of the bedding."

"Yes, ma'am," Fred laughed. "Anything you say, ma'am. Will there be anything else, ma'am?"

"Yes," Aribeth growled, then took Fred's head in both hands and pulled him to her for a deep and thorough kiss. "Hurry back to me, you silly man."

Morning found several guardsmen outside the house, assisting Aribeth and Fred in disposing of the bodies of the bounty hunters killed during the night. The body of the priestess had vanished sometime during the darkness, which left Fred unsettled and worried about what had happened while no one was watching. Still, not wanting to worry those helping, he kept his concerns to himself. Burying the dead kept them busy through most of the day, and blessing the new graves against use by necromancers filled the rest of the day. The guards laughingly waved off his offer of beer when they were finished, their leader explaining, "The Lady Storm told us to not delay you any longer than was needed to dispose of the vermin, and to remind you that she expects you at her house as soon as you smell like soap, rather than grave soil."

In the house, Aribeth waited with a hot bath prepared and clean clothes set out.

"Don't forget, we have to go visit Storm, love," Aribeth said as Fred staggered into the house, holding his blistered hands in front of him. She laughed as she touched them, healing the blisters. "A big, tough paladin, and you get blisters from digging a few graves?"

"Shovel's nothing like a sword," Fred grumbled, then smiled gratefully at her. "I need to mark down which graves I blessed, so I don't hit them again tomorrow."

"And then you need to get into that bath, before it gets cold,"Aribeth scolded gently.

"Trust me, love, there's no chance I'll forget to do that. I feel like I could be mined for grime right now." Fred sat at his desk and checked off several grave sites on his map of the graveyard, then stood and smiled warmly at Aribeth. "There. Now, I'm ready for that bath."

Aribeth laughed and gently pushed him toward the tub. "Go on, then. I'll help you dress once you're clean."

"Weren't we supposed to go visit Storm?" Fred asked, blinking in mock innocence.

"Careful, or I'll demonstrate a spell that all female rangers learn as part of their training," Aribeth growled playfully. "Now, shoo!"

"Yes, ma'am! Right away, ma'am!" Fred laughed as he headed for his bath.

"Why was I not notified of the presence of a priestess of Velsharoon in my protectorate?" Arben Shemmar demanded. The High Dawnlord stood, with his retinue of acolytes and guards, blocking the road to Storm's farm.

"Perhaps," Fred replied, trying to convey utter boredom in his tone, but failing to keep his irritation with Arben's attitude entirely under control, "because she did not live long enough to be a threat to your protectorate. I have already taken care of any threat she made to my protectorate."

"Your protectorate?" Arben exclaimed, managing to simultaneously sound surprised and outraged. "You have no protectorate!"

"Odd," Fred said, Aribeth's hand on his arm helping him focus enough to keep his temper under control. "That's not what you said last month, when Azalar entrusted me with the graveyard. I believe your exact words were, 'Since he champions the Lord of the Dead, make the dead his protectorate.' Have you changed your mind since then?"

"I – but – damn you, MacManus!" Arben sputtered. "You know I can't rescind my word! But –"

"Good," Fred said, "Now that that's settled, I'm on my way to talk about this incursion with Storm. Do you have anything more to say, or might I proceed?"

"Here barely a month, and you're already one of them," Arben muttered, then raised his voice to answer Fred. "You may proceed. I will send Ingmir to speak with you further."

"No problem," Fred said, relaxing. "Thank you, and have a good evening."

As they passed Arben's party and walked away, Fred whispered to Aribeth, "One of them? Do you have any idea?"

"The only thing I can think of is that he's not fond of Harpers,"Aribeth answered. "That would be odd for a Dawnlord, I'd think."

"Might as well ask Storm when we get there, ne?"

"That sounds like a good idea." Aribeth stopped and kissed Fred. "I'm proud of you, love. You handled that without flaying him – either verbally or with your sword."

"I might have," Fred admitted, "if you hadn't been there. You make it possible for me to do things I couldn't otherwise do. Like deal with pretentious assholes."

Aribeth laughed and tugged Fred down the road toward Storm's house.

"You made it!" Storm said, embracing Aribeth, then Fred, as she welcomed them into her house. "I was starting to wonder if I'd see you today."

"I had to bless the graves after we were done burying them," Fred said, "just in case any more necromancers are in the area. I need to do that with the rest of the graveyard, starting tomorrow."

"You're the only one in the dale who can do it?" Storm asked.

"As far as I know," Fred said. "I saw a doomguide go through a few days ago, with that party that was headed toward Myth Drannor, but that's it since we arrived."

"You might want to think about sending for another priest or two, don't you think?" Storm led them to chairs arranged around the living room's fireplace. Even with Midsummer approaching, the nights still got cool enough that a fire was welcome."You've been active for so long, I can't imagine you wanting to put down roots so abruptly."

"It's all we talked about, the last couple years," Aribeth said. "We imagined how we would find a nice location where we could raise a garden for ourselves, and do a little hunting now and then, and maybe help out if our neighbors ran into trouble...but one thing we're both sure of is that we never want to be on the run like we have been for the last five years. When Lord Azalar made us citizens, it was like our dream came true."

"Don't forget the abbey, love," Fred laughed, giving Aribeth a loving look. "Or were you hoping I'd forget that?"

"Honestly, yes," Aribeth shot back with a smile. Seeing Storm's confused look, she said, "The last year or so, Fred's been talking more and more about wanting to find somewhere to establish an abbey, where he can bring together every resource he can for servants of Kelemvor, and they can be properly trained in how to serve those around them."

"Seriously?" Storm asked, an excited look in her eyes.

"Seriously," Fred said. "I've run into far too many priests who pine for the days of someone named Myrkul. I don't know who Myrkul was, but given the behavior of the priests who apparently used to serve him, I want to do everything I can to expunge their influence from the church. I figure an abbey that becomes known all over the world as the authority on the teachings of Kelemvor should do the trick. Especially if we can turn out paladins and monks, as well as priests."

"You have some pretty big plans," Storm said. "How do you propose to achieve them?"

"Obviously, the first step is finding somewhere," Fred said. "When Azalar asked me to take over the graveyard, I knew that Shadowdale was the place. The house isn't going to work in the long run, but it's perfect for now. We can take in students, and spread the word that we'll pay good money for any texts or objects that deal with Death. I'm not sure yet whether it's better to build the abbey around the graveyard, or to check out that abandoned keep back of your farm."

"My preference," Storm said, giving Fred and Aribeth both a grave look as she spoke, "is for you to take control of Castle Krag. It was the place from which Jyordhan ruled as a servant of the Zhents. We burned it when we overthrew him, and again just a couple years ago when we kicked the Zhent army out, but as long as it remains unclaimed, it is an open invitation for unknown enemies to establish a base within striking distance of the village."

Aribeth and Fred looked at each other, then Aribeth nodded and spoke. "As long as Lord Azalar approves, we will begin our work on the castle immediately. While I'm not so sure about Fred's idea for an abbey, I do know that the tactical importance of the castle is such that we would be ideal occupants, and it would increase Shadowdale's security against attacks from the north and east."

"It would also give you more space for your guests when they come for training or ...other purposes," Fred said. Storm raised an eyebrow and studied Fred for a moment, then laughed.

"So you pay attention to your neighbors, eh?" Storm asked, laughing.

"Yup," Fred said. "Also, anything that annoys Arben makes me smile – and he clearly does not like Harpers."

"That's for sure," Storm said. "He thinks we're too sneaky, underhanded, and secretive. All traits that a good Dawnlord – which he thinks he is – should stand in opposition to."

"Sounds good to me," Fred said, grinning. "So, do I need to sign up to help out, or just be ready with a hand when you need it?"

"That's all any of us are," Storm laughed. "A hand when you need it. As long as you're ready and willing to extend that hand as needed, you're already a friend of the Harpers."

"And if it adds to Arben's indigestion, all the better, eh?"

"We shouldn't deliberately provoke him," Aribeth chided. "He is the head of his temple here, after all."

"I promise, sweetheart, I won't deliberately provoke him," Fred said.

"I guess that's the best I can hope for," Aribeth sighed, then turned to Storm. "So, what can you tell us about Castle Krag?"

"And," Fred added, "can you tell us why the graveyard is so new? The oldest graves I've found all date to the second half of Nightal in 1374, and most of the burials took place between then and Midwinter of 1375. What happened? Does it have any relation to that Zhent army you mentioned?"

"That's part of why I'd like you to take possession of Castle Krag," Storm said. She paused, a sad, thoughtful expression on her face, then said, "We should wait to talk about this until we can include Azalar. You'll want to hear his part of the story."

"OK," Fred said. "I'm sure we'll want to pay a visit to him anyway, given the bounty hunters."

"Oh, them," Storm said dismissively. "They're nothing new. They've been following you since you fled Neverwinter. Their group was twice the size when they started following you." She let out a snort of laughter. "The things they had to say about the traps you supposedly used against them are quite entertaining."

"The traps...we...," Aribeth said, then began to laugh. "We didn't even know they were there, and they thought we had used traps against them?"

"That's right," Storm said. "Just goes to show what paranoia can do for you, doesn't it?"

"So," Aribeth asked, "since we should wait until we can meet with Lord Azalar before talking about recent history, what did you have in mind when you invited us to visit?"

"I thought we might try to learn what has happened in Neverwinter since you left," Storm said. "What do you think?"

"I think," Fred growled, "that unless it involves Nasher and his high priest ending up where they put Fenthick and Oleff, there's not much Neverwinter can offer us."

"All right," Storm said. "I guess we can safely put you in the 'level the city and salt the soil' camp."

"Fred, love," Aribeth said gently, resting a hand on his arm, "we can't just give up on them, as much as we might like to. You taught me that when you didn't give up on me."

"I...," Fred started to protest, then sighed and nodded. "You're right, love. I just...if I hadn't hit you over the head and dragged you out of there, you'd have been dead. Nasher ordered your death, and the high priest endorsed it. There was no way in Hell I was going to let them murder you like that."

"Now, this is what I wanted to hear," Storm said. "Hold that though, would you?" She walked over to a desk in the corner of the room and tapped on a stone. "Sister, I'd like you to hear this." A moment later, she tapped on a small bell, which did not so much ring as thud, and said, "El, would you pick up Azalar and come pay a visit? ... Yes, I do mean right now. ... Well, if you don't want a chance to hear the rest of Aribeth's story.... I thought you'd see it that way. We'll be waiting for you."

"Ever get the feeling we're the most entertainment these people have had in years?" Fred whispered to Aribeth.

"Silly!" She snorted, and gently punched his arm.

As Storm walked back to join Aribeth and Fred, Sylune manifested in the center of the room. Seeing the two, she looked questioningly at Storm, who smiled and nodded.

"Yes, Sister," Storm said, "these are the two I told you about. Come and join us?"

"Hmm," Fred mused, while studying Sylune as she approached. "I think I'm going to have to come to a judicial decision and rule that, while you are clearly dead and not passed on to your designated destination, you are not what I would call 'undead' – and therefore, I can safely treat you as a neighbor, rather than an enemy."

Sylune stopped and looked from Fred to Storm, then back to Fred again, with a worried expression on her face. She studied Fred's face intently for a few moments, then laughed and whispered, "You...you...are you sure you're a paladin? That was positively...."

"He likes to tease his friends," Aribeth said, offering Sylune a warm smile. "So if he's teasing you, he's already decided you're a friend."

"I like them, Sister," Sylune said to Storm. "Can we keep them?"

"That's what we hope for," Storm said. "He plans to turn Castle Krag into an abbey, and she...you know, we haven't really discussed your plans, Aribeth."

"I'm...still working on that," Aribeth said, her face falling. "My faith in Tyr was tested, and I failed. I am devoted to Kelemvor now, but I don't believe I will ever be a paladin again. If Shadowdale can use my skills as a ranger, I will do all I can to make myself useful. But...."

"Aribeth," Storm said gently, "We all have our times of self-doubt. You've spent the last five years running for your life. It's only natural that all those doubts you buried while you were running are starting to come up, now that you aren't running any more. What's important is to remember that you have friends, and when the doubts become so great that you can't trust yourself any more, you can turn to us, and borrow our faith to help you get through those times."

"A true ranger would be a great help," Sylune said. "We have students who visit us regularly, many of whom are rangers, but to have one of your skill as a part of our community will help in many ways, from improving our defenses against the Zhents to helping to feed those who are too weak or broken to fend for themselves. We need you, Aribeth. We truly do need you."

"You see, sweetheart?" Fred said gently, taking Aribeth's hand and squeezing gently. "You are neither a failure nor a burden. I would not be surprised if our ghostly friend saw your performance against those bounty hunters, and so is speaking from true knowledge, not merely opinion."

"I...did," Sylune said, blushing. "The presence of a necromancer alerted me to evil, and after I warned Storm, I sought the source. I arrived in time to see your swordwork against that dwarf, and I was impressed. I believe you could teach our students a few tricks even Storm doesn't know."

"You really think so?" Aribeth asked. "You're not just tolerating me because Fred's so good at ...how does he term it... spreading fertilizer?"

Fred snorted, his face turning interesting colors as he tried to hold in his laughter. Storm sat back in her chair and laughed without any attempt at restraint. Sylune rolled her eyes and waited until the two ran down.

"I really do think so," Sylune said, once the room was quiet enough that her whisper could be heard. "In fact, I would be honored if you would consent to spar with me, now and then."

"Aribeth, hon," Storm said, when she was able to get words out again, "Fred couldn't spread fertilizer to save his life. I swear, he's such a bad liar that the only way anyone would believe him is if they wanted to. I may be wrong, but from what I've seen since you two got here, he is so inherently honest that I'm willing to bet that he can't even lie to you when you want him to. Am I right?"

"Errr...," Aribeth blushed and nodded slowly. "You are." She looked at Fred and smiled lovingly. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but it's true. I can tell when you're lying to me, like that time in Biradoon, when we bought those stillsuits and I asked you how mine made me look. Remember?"

"Umm...," Fred gulped. "Can I get back to you on that?"

"See what I mean?" Storm laughed. "So, trust me, we're not just tolerating you because of his ability to bullshit. We honestly want you here. Everyone who has met you...well, except for a few people who don't like anyone...honestly does like you. I've even heard a few people at the Old Skull grumbling about how unfair it is that you're married."

"All right," Aribeth laughed, her cheeks practically blazing. "I get the picture. I'll do my best to remember that in the future."

"Good," Storm said, "because if you don't, I'll take you out into my practice yard and show you how I spar with my friends."

"I kind of hope you'd do that anyway," Aribeth said. "I mean, if it's not being too forward."

"Hon," Storm said seriously, "Morag really shook you up, didn't she? I mean, listen to yourself! Is that the confidence of a paladin? You sound like you're still recovering from being defeated."

"I...," Aribeth paused and considered what Storm had said. "I think you may be right. I've never been confident in myself. All of my confidence and trust was in Tyr. Even when Fred rescued me from my sentence of execution, I believed what was to happen was just, because I had no faith in myself. It took ...almost two years?... of Fred's patience and unswerving devotion before I was able to look at what had happened with an unprejudiced eye and realize that I had been sentenced to death for a crime that, in other cases that had been judged in the Hall of Justice, had required, at most, a pilgrimage of atonement."

"And even then, it took a Bedine elder to get the point across," Fred said. "Remember what he said?"

"I do," Aribeth said, nodding slowly. "He said, 'The sorcerer who enslaved you is dead, yes? Then the penalty has been paid for the crime, by the one guilty of causing the crime. You are free of guilt. Now, go, and do not commit the crime of punishing yourself unjustly.' I had never thought of it that way before, but as the Bedine saw it, I was merely the hand that held the sword. I was not the mind that drove the hand, and the guilt rested in the mind that drove the hand, not the hand or the sword. The rest of the world sees the Bedine as primitive and superstitious, but it was their unshakable practicality, combined with Fred's stubbornness, that finally made me understand my true place in what had happened."

"The rest of the world are idiots," Elminster said, removing a rain-soaked traveling cloak while standing just inside the door. "Now, why don't you give Azalar and myself some time to get settled before you start your story?"