Company+of+the+Phoenix+Session+14

**10-28-2016** **Magic Shops, A Dinner Date, and the Harvest Celebration with Ghosts in Arabel**

Alaric took Tiri to the noble magic shop in Suzail called Grandeur and Splendor. The proprietor, Gregor Dauntinghorn, was a very haughty know-it-all middle aged man. Alaric greeted him as they walked in, "Ahh, Gregor, it is good to see you again. I see the shop looks immaculate. I would expect no less." Gregor stroked his long dark beard, speaking with a droll high class accent, "Mmm yes, quite. How can this humble servant of the crown help you today?" "Humbleness is..." Alaric started to say. "A virtue?" the shopowner finished. "Yes," the green eyed sorcerer nodded, "If only my dear friend, Charlemagne, had more of it."

"Mmm yes," Gregor looked down at him from behind the counter, "And how is the sun of the Goldswords today?" "I'm in need of a metamagic rod to aid in my spell casting... some of my companions give me such grief when they get caught in my spells of area effect," Alaric explained. "Well you know those sword bearers... always charging out in front and getting in the way of things," Gregor gestured with his hands, more than a hint of annoyance in his tone. "Yes... you would think they would take it like men... but alas he whines with whoa about how I burn him," Alaric nodded his agreement. Tiri stared, watching the two noblemen converse back and forth. "He wails like a woman," the shop owner shook his head. "And so if only for the sake of my own ears... I'm looking to get a wand to stop the problem," Alaric finished. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Very noble of you," the nobleman Dauntinghorn nodded. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Yes, the Goldswords are certainly noble," Alaric agreed.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"And rich," Gregor nodded, "So when do you plan to leave this... this city... and come to Marsember?" He spoke the word 'city' as though it was filth. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Tiri tilted her head at Alaric, "I thought Marsember sucked?" <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"We don't say that out loud," the gold haired nobleman shushed her. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"What?!" the shop owner exclaimed. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;"> "Excuse her," Alaric practically brushed the blue haired priestess behind him, "She's an elf and doesn't know." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Tiri peeked around her sorcerer companion, "I've never been... I've just heard Suzail is better." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Clearly you've been hanging with the wrong crowd," Gregor looked down at the two of them, stroking his long dark beard. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Tiri stared at him, perplexed by his strange custom... elven men didn't have beards.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Alaric seemed to struggle with holding his tongue for but a moment before he continued on with a great sense of calm, "So anyway... yes... a metamagic rod of selective spell." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Oh I'm sure we have one lying about," Gregor snobbishly dismissed such an item, pointing off in a corner. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"It is an innocuous item... you're probably practically giving them away," Alaric nodded. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"I wouldn't say all that," the haughty nobleman adjusted his spectacles, dismissing once again the sorcerer before him, "Over there... in the corner... help yourself." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Alaric nodded, guiding the young priestess along beside him, "Tiri, was there anything you wanted while we're here?" <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">She twirled her blue hair around her finger, glancing with dislike back toward the man behind the counter, "I don't know that I want to buy anything in this shop..." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Oh certainly you can trust ol' Gregor here. He only resells the most topnotch of items," Alaric encouraged her.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Resells?" Tiri blinked, "You mean they don't make their own magic items in this shop?" <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"I assure you," the smug shop owner interrupted, "Everything from the tiles to the rafters is brand new here." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"You really should buy something," Alaric nudged her. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"You really should," Gregor agreed, looking her over with disdain, "You wouldn't want... Charlemagne was it?... having to rush in to save you... finding yourself indebted to him." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Tiri frowned, "He likes saving me..." She browsed the items on the shelves, glancing to Alaric, "Do I have a flaw that could be helped by a magic item?" <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Well certainly not your beauty... that is indeed flawless," he smiled at her. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Oh bravo... bravo," Gregor clapped the back of his hand. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Oh come on," Alaric shook his head at him, "She just threw that one out there." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"She's slow pitching you, boy," Gregor shook his head, "I say." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"I could use some nice paper and a quill... I've been learning to scribe scrolls," the young elven woman tapped her lips thoughtfully. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Mmm paper... scrolls..." Gregor rolled his eyes, "The parchment shop is down the block. Tata."

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Tiri glanced over at him, "I'll be glad to give them my gold... I'll let them know I was just at Daunty Whore's." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Dauntinghorn... horN," the shop owner's haughtiness flared with his frustration. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Alaric carefully guided her to another case, showing her some of the items. "There's a musical staff..." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Oh yes.. those are all the rage... last year," Gregor scorned. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;"> Alaric put a lesser rod of reach into the young priestess's hands, "How about this?" <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">She looked it over, nodding, "Alright." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">The sorcerer was explaining to her how it worked and Gregor interrupted, "That's why they call it..." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Lesser," TIri finished for him, speaking like the shop owner did with a haughty accent. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"She's making fun of me," the Dauntinghorn nobleman glanced at Alaric. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"She's an elf... it's her way of showing affection," the young Goldsword assured him. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Mmm I'm sure she loves you then," the shop owner dismissed it.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">The entry bells chimed as the door opened, a great bellow washing through as someone entered. Barnabus Releque strode in, the wealthy nobleman from Marsember who had talked up Tiri in the bar so long ago. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Let's go," Alaric finished their purchases, laying a hand on Tiri's back to guide her toward the exit beside him. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"My lord," Gregor greeted the nobleman Releque and his entourage, "Let's go to the back room for a private viewing." He glanced back with disinterest at the two, "Were we done with business here?" <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"I don't think he likes you," Tiri turned to Alaric. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Everyone likes me," he assured her, "We should let him attend to his poorer customers." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"That's not true," Gregor mumbled as he ushered them out to lock the door and flip the closed sign.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"I really don't like him," Tiri shook her head, "I feel so rushed out." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"I'm sure they're having some meeting of the water buffalos or something," Alaric patted her shoulder, "Pay it no mind." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"You do have strange customs in this culture," she nodded, walking beside him. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Once you understand it all, it's not terribly complex," He assured her, "You just have to come to the understanding that Gregor is an ass, and..." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Oh good!" she interrupted with a sigh of relief, "I understood that part then." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"But to treat him as if he were not," Alaric finished. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Why?" the young elven woman asked. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Because that's the way that it is done here," he answered. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">She frowned and nodded.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Across town there was another magic shop called Bits and Pieces. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Tiri pointed to the shop, "Let's go in there." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"You don't want to shop there," Alaric shook his head, "They take miscellaneous magic pieces and throw it in a box and call it the Bits Box." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Well that sounds fun!" Tiri nodded, "Let's definitely go there!" <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"It's all crap," he argued. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"But it sounds like so much fun!" Tiri nudged him, and turned to the swashbuckler for aid, "Rhain, you want to go into Bits and Pieces, don't you?" <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Well of course... we always stop there," she nodded, "All of the kids like to look in the windows and watch all of the stuff floating about." <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Anuul was practically jumping up and down, "I've heard about it! I've heard about it!" <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"See!" Tiri smiled at Alaric who sighed his defeat heavily and contemplated wearing a disguise. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">"Oh fine... let's go to kiddie land," he grumpily gave in, letting the others nudge him along.

<span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Gillian Rowenmantle, a 2nd tier noblewoman, was the proprietor of the shop. <span style="background-color: #ffffff; color: #222222; display: block; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;"> A few children were indeed gathered outside a big window, staring in with their faces pressed to the glass. The group entered to hear soft chiming music with the door. Toy dragons were chasing each other through the air, and a toy train ran along an invisible track above them. Books continually exchanged places in the aisles as they walked. Anuul was beside herself with so much to see at once, "I want to touch it all!" Tiri's smile got wider as she looked around, "Why didn't we come here first? This is much more fun! Much more like the elven magic shops." Alaric slipped on some gloves as though the place was too filthy to touch.

A huge ruckus thundered behind a back door! It swung partially open and a young woman quickly squeezed out to slam the door closed behind her, and another loud pounding ruckus came from behind the door as Gillian wiped her brow with relief, "Whew... that one was close. Hi! Customers!" Tiri smiled back, lowering her hands that were ready to weave their magic as the door had popped open, "Hi! ...Is everything alright?" "Fine. Why?" the young shop owner smiled innocently. "No reason," Tiri shrugged, pausing to glance at the door again, "But... I could maybe help?"

Gillian gasped as she recognized Alaric, "You're a Goldsword!" "Uh... No..." Alaric looked around uncomfortable, "You must be mistaken... I'm... someone else." "Quick!" the young woman dashed over to touch the nobleman with a paintbrush and then dashed back to a large canvas that she then touched the same magic paintbrush to... an image of Alaric was instantly painted on the canvas in bright living colors, "In my shop!" Tiri was giggling herself silly, barely pausing her laughter to nod to the woman, "Yes! The Company of the Phoenix loves your shop!" "The Company of the Phoenix!" Gillian gasped excitedly! "Yes..." Alaric grumbled, "We'd be happy to recommend your shop for a small fee..." "What?" Tiri nudged him, "I'm not going to charge her!" "I could totally sponsor you!" the excited shop owner offered. "Sponsor?" Tiri gasped, nudging the charismatic sorcerer, "Our very first sponsor! ...What's a sponsor?" "They usually give us lots of free stuff," Alaric explained to her.

"Oh yes!" the young Rowenmantle nodded, pulling out a box to grab a handful of silver rings, "Here, here, here, take these rings!" She put one in each of their hands. "Oh! What do they do?" the blue haired priestess held hers up to the light to see the silvery sparkle. "Just invoke the word written on the inside of the ring and you'll be rid of dirt! Instantly clean!" Gillian pointed to the inscription on the ring. "Oooo!" Tiri slipped it on to her finger, "I'd be happy to recommend your shop for this! I love it!" "Thank you!!" Gillian exclaimed with desperate enthusiasm! Alaric shook his head as he looked at the overly happy priestess next to him, mumbling, "So easily bought..."

"Another elf in my shop!" the lovely shop owner exclaimed suddenly as she noticed Tiri's long ears. "Another?" Tiri blinked her big blue eyes at her, "Who else was here?" "A very handsome and dashing fellow," Gillian nodded to her, adding rather dreamily, "Prince Nuada... his name is like music." Tiri sighed dreamily with her. "I'm sure he visits all the shops... and brothels... and every other place," Alaric muttered. "He gave me a gryphon feather," the shop owner sighed softly and then added more excitedly, "Do you know what I could do with this?!" "He gives them out to every lady," Alaric shrugged. "But..." Tiri turned to him, "I didn't get one." "That was very rude of him," the golden haired mage patted her shoulder in comfort. "You're a liar, Mr Goldsword," Gillian accused him as she shook her head. "I said I'm... Charlemagne," Alaric looked uncomfortable again. "I know Charlemagne! You're not Charlemagne," the shop owner shook her finger at him.

She turned back to the group with a flourishing curtsy, "How can Miss Rowenmantle help you? ...well other than sponsoring your company." "We wanted to come and see your shop! We heard it was awesome!" TIri answered. "Oh yes! Feel free to look around. It's much better than that //other// shop across town," Gillian assured her. "Yes! I went there... it was terrible!" the priestess agreed. "Have you met that scowl?" the shop owner gasped, shaking her head. "He was so rude!" Tiri used his haughty tone, "And he talked as if everything was such a bother!" "That's very good! You have met him!" Gillian nodded, "They don't even let me IN that shop..." "We were there until Lord Releque went in... then they had some sort of water buffalo meeting... not that I really know what that means," Tiri explained further. "A water buffalo meeting? In the magic shop?" the shop owner blinked in surprise. Alaric shook his head.

Gillian gestured to some birds who carried the painting of Alaric up to hang it on the wall. "Make sure the badge is showing," Tiri suggested, nodding with approval at it's placement. "Yes!" Gillian nodded to her, pointing her paintbrush at the canvas to add the Company of the Phoenix badge prominently on Alaric's cloak. The nobleman sorcerer scowled much to the priestess's giggling delight. "You're really enjoying this.... Aren't you, Tiri?" he raised an eyebrow at her. Tiri nodded, giggling again with great glee, "Oh, I am!" "Laugh it up," he folded his arms.

"How much is one of those cute dragons up there?" Tiri pointed to the flying dragons chasing each other around the ceiling. "Individually? Or the whole set?" Gillian smiled cheerfully. "There's a whole set?" Tiri blinked, glancing back at their whimsical flight and nodding with great restraint, "I better just get one for now." "Which color would you like? They come with different personalities!" the shop owner inquired further. "Oh! Different personalities!" Her wide blue eyes looked them all over. They were all cute! How was she ever going to pick one?! "For instance..." Gillian gestured to a large blue one, "He is the great nemesis to Lord Vortman!" She gestured to one of the action figures that looked a great deal like Charlemagne. One of the dolls Tiri had seen him handing to children before. "She has backstories about her little dolls... that's... that's precious," Alaric spoke with disdain.

The young priestess spied a small gold one and her mind tugged at her, reminding her about her dream, "What about that one? The adorable baby gold one?" "The one with the really shitty look on his face?" Gillian asked with surprise and glanced back to the little toy. "He's noble and majestic!" Alaric spoke up, suddenly defending the little dragon. Tiri laughed, "You both have a very different perspective of that little gold dragon..." "I don't think he's looking at the right one," the shop owner shook her head. "He's gold!" Alaric pointed to the little dragon, arguing it's defense once again, "Gold is the most majestic of colors."

Gillian whistled a little tune, holding up her hand with her index finger like a bird perch. It flew down to land on her hand, and she pointed to it, "You there, look proper..." She leaned in closer, whispering, "She's thinking about buying you." The little golden dragon took in a deep breath, puffing it's chest up. "Majestic! You see," Alaric gestured to the puffed up dragon. Tiri was giggling, unable to contain it, but nodded her agreement. "Show her what you can do," Gillian encouraged the magical toy. It took a deep breath and blew it out mightily to create a little puff of smoke much to it's own disappointment. It hung it's head. Tiri giggled with delight, "I love him! That was perfect!" "See," Gillian nudged the toy and it puffed back up proudly. "Majestic," Alaric nodded again.

Tiri nodded, her blue eyes glued to the toy, "Yes... I need that one." "Only if you give him a good home," the noblewoman shop owner warned. "Of course! Of course!" Tiri held out her hands. The little dragon suddenly looked nervous, clinging to Gillian's hand a little tighter. "Aww," the young priestess melted, "I think he likes you..." "He's been here too long anyway," the shop owner shook her head, nudging the dragon, "Go on..." He fluttered over to land in Tiri's hands and she cooed at him with great adoration, "Look at you! Such a handsome boy!" He puffed up with great pride and she cooed at him more, kissing him lightly on the head. Alaric watched her for a moment, "This disturbs me somehow... though I don't know why... but if Tiri's happy, then I'm happy." Tiri laughed and caressed the little dragon with delight, paying her gold piece to the young Rowenmantle woman.

"Do you have any experience with pets? Do you even know what a gold dragon eats?" Alaric asked her. TIri looked to Gillian, "What does the little gold dragon eat?" "Gold," the young woman shrugged. "Gold?" Tiri blinked with surprise, "My but you're going to be expensive." She looked at the little toy in her hand. "Majestic," Alaric nodded to her. "Yes, majestic," Tiri agreed, looking down at her new little pet, "I hope you don't eat a lot..." It answered her with a little shake of it's head and adorable booping noises. "I'm kind of poor," she explained further. "Boop?!" Its little eyes widened. "Well... I mean my family is wealthy... when we go home you can eat as much as you want," she encouraged him. It swelled with delight, and melted in her hands happily.

"Really?" Alaric raised an eyebrow at her. "Well... maybe not ALL that he wants... I mean my mom was an adventurer for awhile... she did get an awful lot of gold," Tiri shrugged a little uncertainly. "We should visit your home," Alaric sounded much more interested. "An adventurer you say?" Gillian perked up beside him. Tiri laughed and nodded, "For a few decades... maybe it was a century." "Decades... a century..." Gillian whispered out loud to herself, imagining how much gold that must be. "My dad came from a wealthy noble family... but my mom... she acquired a lot of gold of her own," Tiri shrugged. "We should definitely go there," Alaric nodded. Tiri giggled, "We have to anyway... I have a scroll to deliver."

The little dragon boopled at her. "Do you want gold?" the blue haired elven woman tilted her head. It nodded. She pulled a coin from her sack and handed it to him. It took it happily and boopled again, pointing to the bag. "You want in the whole bag?" She blinked, "Okay... but don't eat it all... just lay in it and sleep in there." She opened the bag and it quickly leapt in, settling comfortably among her gold. "There's gems in there too, so don't cut yourself," she warned him, and it booped with excited surprise, nestling in further. "Aww! Who's a big sweetie? You're going to grow big and strong, aren't you?" She cooed at it. "Boop boop boop boop" It boopled at her contently as it nestled into her coin. Alaric shook his head, estimating 3 days before she flushed it down the toilet because she was out of coin.

Anuul was attached to Tiri's hip, staring at the golden dragon with uncontainable excitement. Tiri giggled, "Do you want one too?" The young kitsune was practically shaking, "I want all of them!" The elven woman laughed and nodded, "Well I have a gold if you want to go pick a color." "We're going to be dragon mommies!" Anuul exclaimed, rushing over to pick one out. She quickly picked out a beautiful amethyst dragon, "It is the cutiest thing ever!" "So pretty!" Tiri agreed. Alaric shook his head... there was going to be 2 dragons in the toilet... they were condemning those poor things. He smiled innocently, "Would you like to buy anything else?" "I'm so excited with this... I think we should go," Tiri shook her head, adding cheerfully, "But I'll be back! And I'll spread your name!" "Please come back," Gillian answered cheerfully. The back door rumbled again with a pounding. "Are you sure you don't want help with that?" The blue haired priestess asked again. "No, I'll be fine," the shop owner tried to assure her. "Alright..." Tiri sounded unconvinced, praying for guidance for the young woman, "Do you have some sort of badge of Bits and Pieces so people know we're representing you?" "They'll know!" Gillian exclaimed happily, leaning heavily on the door.

As the group walked through the city, trails of fairy dust floated behind them. "This is fantastic," Tiri laughed, "But umm it's going to be a problem in combat... I hope it doesn't last forever." "She's a hedge wizard, I'm sure it won't last long," Alaric shook his head.

Alaric was trying to think of the best way to gain the attention of the lovely princess in charge of finances, muttering to himself. Rhain, unable to take much more of it, leaned in, "Can I offer to help somehow?" "Well... being as you are one of the King's swords," Alaric nodded thoughtfully, "Perhaps you could go in and see if..." "She wants to pork with you?" Rhain finished with a tone of innocence. "Well... surely you could come up some better phrasing than that... I mean surely they taught you something in that school," the golden haired mage frowned at her. "Oh I learned plenty," she nodded. "Perhaps you could see if she'd like to have lunch together?" he suggested. "Deliver an invitation then?" the young swashbuckler asked with a raised brow. "Yes," he agreed, scrolling it out on paper, "I'll arrange for a reservation at a fine intimate restaurant." "Excellent. My life is fulfilled. I've become... Alaric's messenger girl," sarcasm dripped from Rhain's lips, "This will cost you, you know." "It always does," he shrugged and nodded. "Shall I wait for a response?" Rhain accepted the envelope in her hands. "If you would," he nodded. "Your grace..." Rhain overly curtsied with great drama.

"Being my messenger is farther than I thought she'd amount to," Alaric muttered as the swashbuckler disappeared from sight. Tiri gasped, "Wow! You had better hope that she was out of hearing distance." "You're a bad man," Anuul shook her head at him. "I am not! You should see the hell she put me through!" Alaric argued defensively. "She says the same thing about you," the young kitsune shrugged. "Then she's lying!" the mage disagreed, "I'm telling the truth!" "How am I supposed to know that?" Anuul asked as she paced back and forth. "Because I'm Alaric," the charismatic sorcerer announced and swelled his chest in a heroic pose, "Just look at me." Tiri giggled herself silly, "He puffs up just like the little dragon!" Anuul laughed beside her. Alaric scowled at the elven woman. Tiri batted her eyelashes innocently, "What? I didn't say anything..." "Yes you did!" he accused her. "I was talking to my very cute dragon over here," she smiled sweetly, holding up her little golden dragon and cooing at it, "Who's the handsomest boy?" It boopled at her contently. Alaric sighed heavily, "None of you understand."

Karlissa invited Tiri to dinner with her and she happily agreed, the two of them heading off to make plans. A little while later Rhain returned. "So how did it go?" Alaric asked her excitedly. The swashbuckler curtsied with grand drama, her tone haughty, "Yes m'lord, your message has been well received." "Oh you do sound like Gregor," Alaric rolled his eyes, "And... And... what did she say?" "Sadly," Rhain began, hanging her head slightly. "What?" Alaric gasped with surprise and disappointment. "The young lady already has agreed to plans with a Mr. Releque," Rhain answered, "At the same restaurant as a matter of fact... I did stress that you wouldn't be in town for long... and while she would rather have had have lunch with you... she was somewhat cornered, she said. Dinner is at 8 o'clock I believe, so... at least you know where she'll be." "It would be terrible if... something awful happened," Alaric began muttering. "Indeed... awful" Rhain smiled, agreeing, "Perhaps if he was late... you don't stand up a princess, am I right?" "Of course," he agreed, his mind already plotting. "So just some information for you... all part of the services that I can provide," she continued on, "Am I dismissed now?" "Well unless you're volunteering for the..." Alaric's brow raised. "That's in your hands, m'lord... I'll happily assist the..." Rhain started, "Though if we have to cheese it, I'm out. King's honor guard and all of that." "No, no nevermind," the sorcerous nobleman shook his head, "I can't involve you. It would be better if I handled this."

Karlissa led the elven priestess to a large circular restaurant where an entire cow was roasting over an open fire pit. The cooks were ladling various sauces over it. The beef was served with fresh buttered bread and various soups. The young blue haired elf was in awe... breathing in the aroma, "I don't know what it is... but it does smell good." Karlissa gestured to the waiter, "My table, please." She was given special treatment as the two were whisked off to a nice table on the outer circle where they could overlook a beautiful pond and garden. The red-haired warrioress smiled at Tiri, "The last name does have it's perks... nobility and all that." Tiri nodded, "Yes, certainly. Even in the elven realm."

The well toned Rallyhorn woman told her about her childhood and how she was raised in Highhorn near Eagle Peak, "Our home was not a palace... more like a fortress." "Oh!" the elven woman nodded, "So it's all about strategy and battles with your family?" "It is certainly the Rallyhorn way," Karlissa agreed. "No one differs in your family?" Tiri tilted her head in question. "Well everyone has the odd cousin," the beautiful warrior shrugged, "We have Charlemagne." Tiri laughed. Karlissa laughed with her, "To his credit... he is a fine fine warrior. He's just a little... left of center, shall we say... Most warriors don't write poetry." Tiri laughed again, "Yes, but he's very nice... He's saved my life." "Don't dance with him," the red haired woman warned. The young priestess laughed, "Sadly I already have..." "Sorry," Karlissa raised her glass to the elven woman. "Anuul did very well with him though!" Tiri nodded. "She is fast!" Karlissa agreed.

Tiri went on to tell the young woman of her own life, growing up with 2 older brothers in the Crescent City. "I've never been to Cormanthor," Karlissa shook her head, "I've been to the edge of the forest... but never inside." "No? You should certainly come with us when we go," Tiri nodded. "I've heard of what lurks inside... dark fey... demons and monsters," Karlissa shivered. "Stay on the path," The young priestess patted her arm, "We'll be alright." "Beware the moon?" the warrioress raised an eyebrow. "Something like that," Tiri nodded, "Or find a very handsome gryphon rider to take you through." "Have you met him?" Karlissa asked, indicating that she knew exactly how handsome the man Tiri was referring to was. "Oh yes I have," the elven woman nodded a little dreamily. "He is something," the red-haired Rallyhorn nodded, "He's a little pretty for my tastes... but boy is he fun to look at. Can he swing a sword?" "Yes! I did battle with him once," Tiri nodded, "He handles himself just fine." The two continued to chat together, very relaxed. Karlissa was casual with her nobility... knowing what side the fork went on, but not really caring. Tiri was similar, able to walk both sides of the fence comfortably.

"I met Charlemagne's uncle in the King's Forest," Tiri nodded, "Reigneir, I think? He seemed very nice." "He's a little... different," Karlissa nodded, "He's more of a... scout. For all the noise that Charlemagne's father makes, Reigneir is that silent." "Indeed," the elven woman nodded, "Even Iowyn was impressed." "He is quite skilled," the warrioress agreed, "And not without some magics of his own."

Knowing that Releque always traveled by his own private coach, Alaric learned that his driver was a man named Oliver. Alaric used magic to pull the pin separating Releque's coach from the horses, and made arrangements for Charlemagne and Alix to just "happen by" and see to it that it took a long time to retrieve the horses. As the horses charged off, Oliver fell from the coach, plopping to the ground and losing his hold on the reigns. Releque burst from the carriage fuming, and tore into Oliver in a fitful rage of verbal abuse! While Charlemagne and Alix hurried over to Releque and Oliver, Alaric quickly made his way to the restaurant. Residing along the coastline, The Roving Dragon created several private alcoves, creating an intimate and quiet feel.

Alaric sat at a quiet table alone, sipping his wine for nearly 45 minutes, when he heard the clip clop of an angry woman's footsteps. He could see the princess fuming as she was heading toward the exit. He stood up to intercept her, bowing, "Lady Ily'Aleera... I had heard that you had plans this evening. It was with a heavy heart that I came to my favorite restaurant to console myself. You are alone?" "Not anymore," she answered. "Then please, join me," he pulled out a chair for her at his table. She nodded, thanking him for his invitation. "I can't imagine the cad that would..." Alaric began. She interrupted him, holding up her hand, "Don't even say his name." The golden haired mage poured her a glass of wine. She sat down still in a bit of a huff from being so upset, and sipped her wine, "I apologize for having turned down your offer." "I understand. It is difficult for me with traveling so much on your sister's requests," he comforted her, "I simply could not let the moment pass by without at least trying to see you. Lord knows when the next time would be when I could return... or if I were to be able to return at all." "Oh, you sell yourself short, Alaric. You are quite capable. You honor Cormyr by carrying out her duties... and by that, you honor me," Ily'Aleera raised her glass to him and took another sip.

"And how are things with you? I've been traveling for weeks now," Alaric asked her. "Things are busy as always," she nodded to him. He looked around to see if anyone else was coming, "I am surprised to see you here alone..." He noticed a few non-descript King's Blades, including Rhain. The beautiful princess didn't seem to acknowledge them at all. "But I am glad to be able to spend the evening here with you," he smiled, finishing his sentence. "You know, I'm glad too. As I said, I'm sorry I turned down your offer." the white haired beautiful woman nodded, and actually smiled, "But, yes, things have been busy. With the coronation quickly approaching, I have to get the kingdom ready to hand over... though Sebathian has all but begged me to stay on and continue the finance work. I think that he will be a good king."

"You've been doing it for awhile now... What are your thoughts on the matter? Are you eager for new opportunities?" he asked, sipping his wine. "I enjoy the numbers... but it would be nice to serve my own house... if you know what I mean?" she answered. "Indeed," he nodded his agreement. "Dealing with the finances of an entire country is no small task," she continued, "But who am i to tell you... you have a very productive business." "Yes... I'm a bit pressed for time to put much of my efforts into it," Alaric nodded, "But I enjoy it when I'm at home. Most of my family is quite adept with numbers as well." "Yes... your mother schooled me on it when I was young," she smiled, "Your mother is an impressive woman." "On that we can agree," Alaric chuckled, raising his glass.

He continued to be witty and charming, doing his best to get her laughing and having a good time. They ordered their meals and continued chatting on into the evening. She was having a great time... and fully associating it with Alaric. One of the Blades escorted Oliver out... he had likely come to apologize to the princess on behalf of Releque, but with her mood happy again... they turned him away. After a few hours, the nobleman sorcerer watched some new guards take over for the others, except for Rhain who stayed on.

At the end of their evening, Alaric walked her back to the palace under the full moon, seeing that she made it back safe. The swashbucklers followed them, giving the princess her privacy. "I had a delightful evening, Princess. I'm glad fortune smiled upon us and I was able to salvage your evening," he kissed the back of her hand, "I hope the next time I'm in Suzail that I will be able to impose upon you again." Ily'Aleera leaned in, kissing him softly on the cheek, "I would take great offense if you did not. Thank you for the wonderful time." Rhain nodded to him as he left the palace grounds.

Alaric returned to his estate. "Did you have a good time?" Tiri smiled, greeting him. She was with his mother, drinking wine and laughing. "Tiri, you're still awake," he nodded to her as he stepped into the room with curiosity, "Is everything alright in here?" "Oh look, it's my son," Katelyn giggled, her cheeks pink, "Come and give your mum a kiss." "Of course, mother," he strode through the room to kiss her cheek. His mother was incredibly drunk and the elven woman wasn't far behind her, "It looks like you two have had a delightful evening... girl talk and such?" "And such," his mother nodded, grinning. "It's been absolutely fantastic," Tiri agreed, giggling, "How was yours?" "My evening was delightful," he nodded.

A heavy knock on the door came from the front of the house, and the butler came in, announcing Charlemagne and Alix. Charlemagne strode into the room, "Cousin! So did you hit that or what?" "Well..." Tiri turned back to Alaric, "It must have been //quite// the delightful evening." "I don't know what you mean, Charlemagne," Alaric shook his head, "It was just dinner." "Hey if I'm out chasing some horse's ass... you better have at least got some ass," the muscular nobleman frowned at him. "I entertained the princess and returned her to the palace. I was able to salvage her evening, so yes I consider it a success," Alaric nodded.

"Weren't you the one who ruined her evening?" Charlemagne raised an eyebrow. "Let's not go into these details, cousin! You should go up to bed," Alaric gestured toward the stairs. "You ruined her evening?" Tiri asked. "Sabotage," Charlemagne winked at her. "Oh! Sabotage..." Tiri nodded.

"It's a noble thing, you wouldn't understand," Alaric shook his head at her. Looking offended, the blue haired elf stood up with her hands on her hips, "Wait a minute... Are you trying to say that I'm not noble?" "Cormyrian noble I meant... We do things differently here," he assured her. "You certainly do," she agreed. "I think that maybe you and Mother have had for the evening and should retire for the evening?" he suggested. "Are you cutting off your own mother?" the elder Goldsword gasped in offense. "We do have to have some wine left for the next party," he replied innocently. His mother sighed, "Fine then."

"I named my dragon!" Tiri cheerfully changed the subject. "What did you name your dragon?" Alaric sighed, turning back around to face her. "Avrae the Firestarter," she announced proudly. "Fine, but don't start any fires here," he replied to her. "Of course not..." she snapped back, "Well maybe some candles..." Alaric had Alix escort his mother up to her room. Charlemagne leaned against the doorway, "I could escort her..." "No, Alix will be fine," Alaric gestured to the floor, "But I think Anuul could use your help." The young kitsune was spread out on the floor of the room, staring mesmerized at the gold and amethyst dragon prancing about in the fireplace. "Isn't that dangerous in there?" Tiri tilted her head to look into the fire. Avrae boopled contently to her. "Do you want me to translate for you?" Alaric asked. "You speak toy dragon?!" Tiri gasped, "Yes please." "He said 'I am fire. I am death.'," the gold haired mage nodded. Avrae boopled excitedly, nodding and settling into the fire much to Tiri's delight. "Aww! I think he likes you!" the young priestess beamed at him.

Alaric linked his arm into the elven woman's, nudging her to the stairs. "But we were having such a good time..." she complained. "I know... but we have to get up early in the morning," he replied, continuing to escort her up the stairs to her bedroom door, "We have to go save all of those dying people." "Oh alright," she sighed, "But there's always dying people... they're so needy..." He laughed opening her door, "Yes... and they need //you//." He swept her up and set her on the bed, carefully taking off her shoes. "Alright," she agreed, crawling under the covers and calling out to the stairway, "Avrae? Are you coming to bed with me or staying in the fire?" The little gold dragon rocketed up the stairs on his wings, settling quickly onto the bed where the priestess was putting gold on the pillow next to her. He boopled contently, nestling into the gold coins as she petted him. "You be sure to guard Tiri tonight," Alaric instructed the little dragon, and turned to back to Tiri, "Have pleasant dreams." "Thank you! I do so hope so," she nodded, yawning, "You do the same."

The night was quiet and everyone slept well. Tiri rubbed her head, "Why oh why did I drink so much?" She prayed to Corellion, healing away her pounding head. Everyone ate breakfast while their horses were saddled and prepared with new provisions. Alaric left word with the butler, "If Lord Releque should come by looking for me... Do tell him that I have left in service of the King and I shall see him when I return." Rhain snickered, "What happens in Suzail stays in Suzail." "Were you able to get me those dark spectacles?" the blue haired elf shielded her eyes from the bright sun. "Oh yes," Alaric nodded, handing a pair to her in a small box. She sighed contently with them on and thanked him before the group headed out on their ride out of Suzail.

After a long day of riding, the group stayed in the inn at Hilp, moving on to reach Immersea in the afternoon. They stayed for the day to be able to sleep in an inn for the night. Rhain urged them out early the following morning to make it to Arabel by nightfall.

She got them all up before sunrise, concerned about orcs and other dangers, and got them all moving. They rode hard along the road for hours, lightening up to stop for lunch just for the sake of the horses. They continued on, reaching Arabel just after nightfall. The smell of fresh lumber hanging thick in the air from the reconstruction. Guards patrolling welcomed the company in warmly. Nalen met them at his estate, assuring them that all had been almost eerily quiet. The companions agreed to stay the following day for the Harvesting.

The following morning, they ate a warm hearty breakfast and walked out to see big groups of people heading out into the fields. Alaric agreed to help in a supervisory role, following the paladin out to join the groups. Tiri dove right in with the townsfolk, her boots covered in dirt. After breaking for lunch, a light rain began to fall. Around one of the fields that had already been cleared... a group of women began to gather. They were dressed differently in more woodland clothing, and were obviously not a part of the city of Arabel townsfolk. They added something to the bonfire at the center, sending the flames into brilliant blues and greens.

"Is that a normal part of your harvest rituals?" Tiri tilted her head at the circle of women. Nalen nodded, "They're a group of witches who benefit from our crops as well. They're setting up lights to help keep watch." Alaric observed their magic to be quaint for peasant folk, watching them with mild amusement. Fiery images of fauns leapt from the large bonfire and danced about the field. Tiri stared with much more interest, her voice a whisper as though not wanting to disturb them though they were nowhere near hearing her, "That looks like fun... We should go join them." "Oh certainly... I'd hate to miss out on the chance to meet some hedge mages," the nobleman sorcerer yawned. Tiri walked out to introduce herself. The women were polite and welcoming and eyed the many handsome men accompanying her.

Alaric kept a close eye on the blue haired elven noblewoman as she danced about with the women, making sure she wasn't carried off into the woods. Alix and Charlemagne fended off the beautiful women's interests. Tiri offered her hand out to the golden haired nobleman sitting on the side, "Wont you come dance with me around the fire?" He nodded, accepting her hand and letting her lead him in to the center.

A scream came from the field next to the theirs... and they looked to see townsfolk were running back to the city! "Perhaps a bonfire got out of control?" Tiri looked over with more concern, "We should go check it out." "A bonfire?" Alaric asked, following her gaze, "Alright..." He followed her as she moved across the darkness toward the other field. The battlecry of orcs could be heard getting closer with a leading voice barking commands! "Oh no! I don't think that's a bonfire..." Tiri shook her head, moving faster! Charlemagne, Alix, Anuul, and Karlissa broke off toward the commotion in another field.

Alaric and Tiri pushed through the corn with Nalen and Rhain right behind them. There was a large ogre wielding a club that had skulls pressed into it! It pointed toward them, leading a group of orcs, "Here come tiny heroes. Smash them!" A divine blessing washed out from Tiri as Alaric pulled his wand, sending a barrage of magic missiles into the ogre! Rhain's blade rang out with a clang of metal against an orc's shield. Nalen rushed one of the orcs, cleaving his greatsword into it's chest... the orc faded from existence and Tiri blinked at Alaric, "Did you see that?" Another orc came up, clanging it's sword against Nalen's armor.

The ogre pointed out at the companions, "Bring them to me! I will stretch their skin over my club!" It stared deeply into Alaric's eyes, forcing the mage to see years and years of his own death as the ogre drained him! The pupils of the sorcerer's green eyes became narrow and slitted but for a moment as he broke the trance, coming out of it with his skin paled and his normal charismatic features hidden beneath sunken eyes and hallowed cheeks. The ogre let out a bellowing howl in frustration! Alaric looked over the field, and he and Nalen spoke at the same time, "They're ghosts!" "Ghosts?" Tiri began pulling a divine aura around her, waiting for the orcs to get closer.

The orcs charged forward and their ghostly presence shook Rhain who started to back up screaming, "This shit ain't real, guys! This shit ain't real!" Alaric pulled his new selective rod and sent a brilliant burst of fire from his hands to wash over the orcs as it bent safely around the swashbuckler. The three orcs coming for her faded from existence. A positive calming aura washed out from the priestess, removing the fear from Rhain and giving courage to the others. One of the orcs broke his sword over Nalen's bashing shield as another struck his arm. The brave paladin, took the head of one of them, making it vanish from existence.

Ghostly wails and screams came from other fields around them, and one of the orcs pierced it's sword deeply through Rhain's shoulder! Alaric released a piercing javelin of fire over the ogre, peeling back some of it's ghostly guise! It howled as it's skin peeled away, exposing that it likely died in a fire long ago. Tiri laid her hands on Rhain's back, healing away some of her wounds. Nalen's sword clashed against the orc's in front of him... the two locked up against each other! Rhain slashed her blade against the fading ogre as the orc gashed it's sword into her again! Another rush of fire from Alaric's hands killed the ogre who vanished from existence, and Nalen finished off the last orc. Tiri put her hands on the swashbuckler, healing more of her wounds.

The group quickly moved to help the other townsfolk, healing and finishing off any remaining ghosts and rejoining their companions. Nalen told them that the ghosts had only come once before, but that it was not a normal occurrence... they guessed that the black fire lantern had some residual effects on them. There was a grand feast to finish the celebration, and Nalen prayed over the fields to help the spirits move on. The Iron Lady stopped by and thanked them all again, naming the newly built inn after them The Phoenix Nest. Alaric nodded his appreciation, "We'll be happy to stop back on our way through. It is of course our companion Nalen's home, and he has made it seem as though it is our home too." There was a lot of cheering and clapping.

The group prepared to head out the following morning to meet Quarrelle in Tilverton.