Elendil steps over and puts an arm around Bronwyn's shoulders. The sense of comforting a little sister returned to her a sense of cofort tenfold and brought a peace of mind amid the chaos.

"I will explain about Eilistraee later," she speaks in a soto voice. "For now we must see Fate inside when the healing is completed. I want you to stay with him as it is not safe to venture out with all the Goblins, Gnolls and Orcs that might still about."

After the din of celebration had ended, and the quiet of the following eve had fallen, it seemed that everyone had had there own motives for wanting to be alone, though the same lines of thought had actually ended up pairing up more than one duo.. Elendil had spent her time scouring the keep for as much information as she could. With the sweeping of what rooms the Tethyrian guards would allow her access too, Elendil learned that while most of the keep lay in simple, somewhat empty rooms on the ground floor, with a few second story buildings set up to house extra troops and gear. Elendil also found out that The well, in the bailey of the keep was actually a façade. A false structure actually, containing a set of winding stairs leading to an open basement beneath the rest of the stronghold. The open basement as roughly 110 feet long, and 60 feet wide, About half the size of the entire above ground structure. Support columns were currently in place to support the structure, but a nearby guard explained that largely it seemed to be the sleeping quarters for the gathered horde. An explanation to the seemingly unending wave of troops that appeared in the bailey during combat.

Elendil had needed to request more time for the more than punctual elven runner, she had simply not had the opportunity to gather sufficient evidence or information to give a formal report. The young male had left just as swiftly as he had appeared, promising to return upon the setting of the moon after the morrow. (48 hours) Elendil was no artist, but she did do her best reconstruction of the keep on a piece of parchment, a rough map and layout as she had learned, for additional information to her superiors. As she sketched, she wondered just why the young runner had addressed her so formally. It was not necessarily custom for her to be addressed as lady, she was after all a simple scout. As she dwelled on the possible hidden meanings in the choice of words used, there came a sounding of a deep bell.

Looking towards the point of the sound from their various perches and places of interest, all could see that in the middle of the bailey, a wooden frame had been constructed, and hanging from it, Bart pulling the heavy rope at its side causing it to swing; was a gleaming iron bell, polished to a pristine finish. etched into the side of the bell was a mosaic of the battle which had returned the site to Tethyrian control. There in the relief were each of the heroes of Bartholomew’s party, carved in intricate detail at a scene during the struggle for freedom. Even Elendil and Bronwyn’s actions were included, though their bodies were not.. For a golden filigree Arrow punctured the dark iron drow’s heart above the scene, while a crimson dyed patch of colored steel exploded in the reflection of light behind the tumbling Bolikar.

Lord Bartholomew hailed everyone in the loudest, most dominant voice he had ushered since departing from Darromar so long ago. “People of the Northern Outpost, I give you the Liberty Bell, a heralding of the heroics which freed this site from enemy control. So long as the bell tolls, This site shall remain a bastion of freedom, faith, and refuge for all who seek shelter within my.. Our newfound walls.” Bart let go of the rope, letting the bell ease to a standstill before sweeping his arms out to address those he could see. “I had thought long and hard for a title befitting of those whose bloodshed and efforts have lead us to stand on this reclaimed soil this night, yet so too have the people, for circling round the campfires, and echoing down the halls all boast of the “Lights of Starspire.” Who am I to take that most deserved acclamation away from them? While you have wandered, explored, set camps or made plans, I have been delegating with the Monarchy about my roll and responsibilities. And it is with great honor that my first order of business is to Grace you all with one more title. One more name that will be carried on throughout the Realm, and remembered throughout history in song and tale.”

Bartholomew raised a hand bearing a small crossbow, an ornate bolt in the chamber. Northern Outpost 13 fell to the horde over a decade ago, and there it died. But from its ashes has risen something far greater. No longer a simple place of cold stone walls, and fearful soldiers, this site has been reborn, revitalized, and reinvented. So, with great pride, I give you Tethyr’s newest outpost. The Bastion of Starspire, and with it, the birth of my own court, The Order of the Scarlet Rose!”

A great clamor of a cheer erupted as he fired the bolt into the air, the tiny projectile disappearing from view, before exploding into a massive explosion of fireworks and magical flame spreading to take on the form of a Phoenix, rising from the earth, and spreading it’s wings wide. It was a majestic sight, and as the sky was flooded with light, a thousand roses fell from the sky, their scarlet petals carrying them gently to the earth below, while women, children, and soldiers alike tried to catch the rare flowers, even more so this late in the season.

“A Gift from his Royal Highness, and most appreciated too,” Bart said as the gasps turned into cheers and claps. When his voice was finally able to be heard again over the gathered celebration, his raised hand hushed the crowd and he called out once more.

“Now, onto business. I would request that all of Those who bear the title of the Lights of Starspire join me inside the keep, as there is much to discuss. I would extend that same invitation to our two groups of guests, Lady Elendil, and Lady Bronwyn as well, and Lord Atharam Markel, and his knights of Helm for we have much to talk about. As for the rest of you, enjoy the celebration, and try not to empty all the casks, as we’re still on a rationed supply.” With that same hearty guffaw of a chuckle Lord Bartholomew, dressed in silk and cotton rather than tweed and wool took his parting, and moved to enter the southern fortification, and up to the second floor.

As the companions slowly made their way into the room, the second floor had been turned from a gatehouse into a hall, where a long linen lined table with simple wooden high back chairs awaited those gathered. It wasn’t grand or anything, but certainly looked a a far cry better than the tattered cloth, broken furniture and remnants of the filthy goblin kind that previously filled the room.

Bartholomew sat at the head of the table, and bid everyone sit where they may at the table. As everyone took their seats, it was apparent that they were a couple bodies shy of a full group. Bartholomew welcomed everyone to the table, and then addressed what the absences had already left unsaid.

“While it is great to see so many of you here, I’ll inform you as to why dear Artanis and the effervescent Intella are not amongst us. With the capturing of the keep, Intella felt that the winds had shifted, Said something about a gust at her back that just seemed to push her feet forward in a direction other than hear. While she wishes she could have said goodbye, with all the hoopla about settling this place, she figured if the fate’s determined it, she would be back this way again, and with that it was more of a till next time, rather than a good bye.

Artanis on the other hand, left me a letter explaining her choice to leave. I would read it now.

“Dear Bartholomew, Our sponsor, My friend.

It pains me to depart in such secrecy, but I do not think I could bare to face the others, not after all that we have been through. There is so much I would say, but in the end my heart is set and I would not dare attempt to withstand the litany for reasons to stay that undoubtedly would come from them. This feeling in my heart is like a ballista hole, and while you and the other’s this quest, was a milestone in my life, I know that have yet to fully heal from the wound inflicted so long ago. It is there that I go, to put an end to the ghosts that haunt me, and bring justice to a wrong that was never righted.

I wish I could explain more, but please tell the others that I love them all, they are the family that I’ve been without for so long, and I will return when my mission is finished. Tell Xaris not to have too much fun without me.

With Strength and honor
Artanis”

Lord Bartholomew folded the letter and placed it in front of him on the table… Letting the weight of his words sink in.
“Let us all give prayer that our friends find all that they seek, and return to us safely. Now.. Onto things we can affect. First things first.

All of the weapons and items of value have been stockpiled and accounted for. And while we’ve already covered the grounds for various parties interest in such things. I’ve made a decision to that end. Aelistae, Linnix, Xaris,Talus, Dylan we’ll speak in private later about certain items of interest. Lady Elendil, I have composed a dossier on the Drow woman your arrow so gracefully felled. The woman, Whose name, or alias at least is known to be Kestril, bore the rank of a Neophyte Priestess under the services of the Spider-queen Lolth. While we have no current leads as to her motives behind aiding Bolikar’s plans, it can be assumed that she was not the top tier of this plan. Unless she was exiled and trying to gain favor with the surface dweller, the likely scenario is she was the eyes and ears for a higher, as of yet unknown power. That unsettling thought behind us, The objects retrieved from the priestess have been copied using a Military illusionists great skill, allowing you to take them back for evidence, while the original’s shall remain here. The illusionary creations should last ten days, plenty of time I would think for your Council to go over them for anything of importance.

With that, Bartholomew motioned for a guard to bring forth a trunk. Placing it by Elendil’s side and lifting the simple wooden lid, inside were revealed a suit of blackened chain, a pair of daggers, numerous vials, a crossbow, clothing that looked identical to what the priestess wore, and a piece of parchment upon which was an intricate design of what Bart informed everyone was a copy of the tattoo the priestess bore on the back of her neck. “That last detail is compliments of Aelistae, for without her we could have missed it altogether. It may not mean anything to me, but perhaps to your learned people it might ring a bell.

Upon the parchment was a Celtic knot type symbol, save the links were interwoven snakes coiling around a a woman of drow descent. Sitting on top of the rest of the gear was a small leather pouch. Inside was a Starspire opal, the clear gemstone alight with a incandescent blue white glow. “In times past, such gifts were given as a sign of friendship and allegiance, and though these tokens are extremely rare since the mines have long run dry, I would ask that you deliver this token to your Elders, that we might strike up communications anew with your people, our neighbors as it were.

Bartholomew clapped his hands, and a pair of serving girls dressed in simple cotton dresses brought jugs of water, and wine to the table, placing a copper goblet in front of each person seated there.

Lady Bronwyn, I cannot give you your beloved Buttercup back to you, only advise that you keep her in your heart and mind, that her companionship never fade. I can however provide you with another horse of your choosing from the herd gifted to us by the kingdom. It is only fitting that since you rode in here, you ride out as well. However, I do have another proposition for you if you’d be willing to hear it.

Lord Bartholomew extended his gaze across Atharam, Seleyon and Hawkrill as well as he spoke. “This is a new outpost, situated in the shadows of the Starspire Mountains, and though we’ve routed the most obvious threat, lurking drow plans, and unseen dangers aplenty abound to be sure. I would ask each and everyone of you to stay on, and aid me as my Court, my Order of the Scarlet Rose. Each of you is invaluable in your own way, each of you has experience and knowledge to bring to this fledgling operation.
Lord Atharam, I have already spoken with Redeemer Arthas from your temple at Castle Tethyr, and your commision to build a place of worship and outpost for knights has been sanctioned and confirmed. Aelistae, you of all people have so much to offer to we, the ignorant of this world. Surely there is no better place than to share all the good of your heart with people. Elendil, we will need an emissary to your people, and your aim with a bow is as true as I’ve ever seen. Your keen eyes watching the lands around the keep would be a great boon. Brownyn, we have not mage amongst our ranks, and if it be training or growth that you seek, than I ask humbly that you consider this as the place to do it. Within these walls, you could start your own repository, your own study… What I’m getting at people is here, now, the opportunities for the future are endless. We have an opportunity to carve into Tethyr, nay all of Toril a place unlike any other. A place where the colour of one’s skin, or the shame of one’s past are left at the gates, where united community strives for the betterment of all.

We have but a small contingent of soldiers, but Xaris, your size in the eyes of those men far outdoes that of your stature, and Linnix, it would be my ultimate honour for you to call the Starspire Bastion your home. I’ll not lie, the building of this place into an ideal community will take time, hard work and resources untold. But with you all at my side, I feel confident we can overcome any obstacle.

Just imagine, a place where untold adventures can be born, a place of respite and refuge, a place where each of you can mold and shape the very foundation of a nation.

Seleyon leaned over and whispered to Atharam.

“He talks like he’s the king himself already.”

Hawkrill on the other side leaned in as well with a response.

“You’ve got to love his enthusiasm. What say you sir?”

Bartholomew stood from the table, and moved to where a simple wardrobe stood at the far wall. Opening it revealed a dozen beautiful hunter Green cloaks, and as he pulled one out, he flourished it to reveal the emblazoned etching of Tethyr’s great Gryphon, wings spread wide in it’s majesty claws clutching a brilliant Scarlet Rose. The clasp was also a gilded gold rose, and Bartholomew stood there holding it awaiting anxiously, who of his companions would take on the responsibility of leadership, courtship, and extended companionship.

Elendil had not expected a runner to come so soon from the Council, it meant she would have to stay longer that she had wanted. She gave him the briefest report saying she had only begun to do an in depth investigation. It was not her forte, but she endeavored with tenacity and by stinting herself of sleep. After the arrival of the Queen’s troops things got more difficult as they tried to keep her out of certain areas of the Keep. Not that they did too well in the regard for Elendil’s tenacity and cleverness enabled her to circumnavigate the guards, with the help of Bronwyn’s invisibility spell.

On one of her invisible forays she found Bronwyn trying to get a ride on one of the wagons heading back to the city. She was not just going to send the girl off with the troops and wagons that were shuttling back and forth between the Keep and the city, as Elendil had found her trying to get a ride to the city. Bronwyn deserved to be seen safely to the city and into a secure placement. As naive as she was she was fair game for any manner of trouble from those who prey upon the weak, foolish, and especially the naive.

Elendil went off and broke the spell then came back to the girl. “It is dangerous for you to go to the city alone, you have no idea how bad a city can be. Thieves would rob you blind within 100 feet of the gate. Please wait long enough for me to finish my report and hand it to the runner how will be retuning. Then I will see you to a safe place.”

In between her investigations she went out into the forest not far from where Buttercup have fallen, there she found what Elves called a "Tree Circle" a large almost circular open area surrounded by mighty oaks and dug a hole big enough for Buttercup in the center and saw the pony buried. Finally the report was done and Elendil gathered a young evergreen tree to plant over the grave. She then took Bronwyn to see the final resting place of her pony. She had a small hole ready for the tree and handed it to Bronwyn to plant.

A good night’s sleep after the emotion fraught day helped restored Bronwyn’s equanimity. She had curled up near Fate so that when he woke and needed something she would be right there. She was so exhausted that she dreamed little only once starting awake, but the night was quiet, Elendil slept not too far off, and Fate was sleeping quietly. She sighed softly, everything was okay and so sleep claimed her quickly once again.


Upon waking, Bronwyn found Fate just gone and all his things with him. Elendil was not there either, but her sleeping roll was still there and her pack. Bronwyn rose to go find Fate, but all she found was Elendil who said she was busy gathering information for a report she had to make, of Fate there was not sign. He had vanished in the night.

Bronwyn went looking around when she found what must have served as the kitchen. She was appalled by its condition. No one could or would eat anything made in this room, filled with fifth and with debris littered everywhere. Revolted as she was she was able to do something about it. She rolled up the sleeves of her shirt tied back her hair and set to work.

Bronwyn found a sad excuse for a broom with a broken handle, with a mending spell and a bit of wood she was able to repair it. First she cleaned out the fireplace/hearth and set a good fire. Then went out to get water and set it over the fire, in ever container she could find that was whole. That served two purposes to get hot water and to boil out the insides of those pots. The first hot water went to the floor and she used the broom to sweep up the majority of the mess pushing it out well away from the door leading out Then she started scrubbing all the surfaces, with clean hot water adding carved off bits of soap from the bar she carried with her. Some of the big iron pots she turned upside down on the fire and burned them clean

The work kept her occupied at least while everyone else seemed busy somewhere else. “Cleanliness is next to Godliness," her Grandmother had always told her. And it was hours later that Bronwyn straightened up and surveyed her handy work. All the tables were scraped down to clean wood or whatever it was scrubbed thrice with hot water and soap. And rinse off with more hot water. It would take some more work on ceilings and walls but that would be for whoever took this place over. At least now a meal could be prepared decently in it. She refilled several large containers with fresh water and set three on the hearth to keep warm, one she covered with a pan to keep it clean for drinking. Returning to her pack and bedroll she started to take out a fresh shirt and clothes to change into after she took a bath in a bucket when she saw a dmsll dstchrl. It was not hers but it lay right where she could not miss it. Opening it up she looked inside and finds a letter, a ring and a smaller bag that jingled a bit. The ring had a black claw on it. Bronwyn looked inside the bag and saw some coins but she did not bother to count them. She was of two minds about opening the letter but she might never know who this might belong to if she didn't. Opening it so that she could just read the greeting she was surprised to find that it was addressed to her. She sat down on her bedroll and read it though. "If it were not for you I surely would have died, and though it was the efforts of the strangers who won the day, my mission is a success none-theless. Consider this payment for your kindness. Fate" She reread it again and then slipped the ring into her pouch and folded the letter neatly and put it away in her own pack


The next few days pass with increasing activity, not for her but the new arrivals, and and increasing stream of traffic in and out of the keep. The farmer was being called Lord apparently from what she learned by asking around was that he was given the Lordship of this keep for freeing it from the goblins. “Well good for him.” Bronwyn thought to herself. With Elendil busy and Fate gone she only had a few of the soldiers to talk to and then there were the wagoneers, and others that arrived and departed.

One of those first afternoon Elendil returned early from her information gathering and told Bronwyn that she had buried Buttercup not too far off and asked if she want to go plant a tree over her grave. Bronwyn nodded quietly and followed quietly. She hoped to maintain her dignity this time, but the tears flowed again as she planted the small tree over Buttercup’s grave. She rose and tuned away and quickly wiped away her tears hopefully unseen by her more stoic companion, but just in case she said, “Darn, I have some dirt in my eye.” She missed seeing the tears rolling down Elendil's cheeks

During the subsequent days after the Queen's arrival and departure. Lord Bartholomew was invested as lord of this keep and his party lauded as heroes. She certainly felt it was deserved for what they had done. She sighed a bit disheartened because she had helped some outside and inside the keep. Without any sense of belonging Bronwyn had grown anxious to get back on her way. She talked to various drivers to see if she could get a ride going south. Elendil was still busy everyday, she rolled in late each night and got up early in the morning to continue her investigations. However most of the drivers worked for others who frowned on taking up passengers, Once she did get an invitation to travel with one fellow that she quickly refused. He wanted payment, but it was not her coin he wanted.

With Elendil so busy and the "heroes" pretty much keeping to themselves Bronwyn redoubled her efforts to find a way south. About the third day Elendil came up to her while she tried once again to arrange passage to the south and said, “It is dangerous for you to go to the city alone, you have no idea how bad a city can be. Thieves would rob you blind within 100 feet of the gate. Please wait long enough for me to finish my report and hand it to the runner how will be returning. Then I will see you to a safe place.”
Bronwyn nodded reluctantly she had gotten several more of those offers from a few wagoneers and it made her wonder if one decided to take her money and did not deliver her safely to where she wanted to go.

Bronwyn looks to Elendil and nods in agreement, “I will wait until you are ready to go south.”

To pass the intervening days Bronwyn took to making some scrolls, not that she had all of the components she really needed, but she had some. Once she got herself established she knew scrolls and potions could be money makers for her. Allowing her to gain experience and make more and better. If she got a place where she could practice her craft and make a name for herself. If. If. If. “Ifs and wants were jumbled paths, Is was the straight path.” That too was one of her Grandmother’s many homilies.

When Lord Bartholomew gathers them together for another celebratory dinner, Bronwyn politely attends with Elendil. He was a good and caring man and despite the fact that those that had taken part in freeing this keep had pretty much kept to themselves. Bronwyn always had a smile on, or a wave when she saw one of them, but apparently they did not see her or did not want to see her. The one young man never did come to help when she had asked that first day after the battle.

When Lord Bartholomew made his proposal to the whole group she listened to it, but could not make a decision on the spot. This had been very unexpected.

"I will think on your proposal, Lord Bartholomew. It is true I was looking for a position somewhere, but I am not sure this is the place for me." She looks around at the other gathered around the table. "I had hoped for a place closer to other mages as I still have much to learn and a place with a ready market for scrolls and potions. I am good with making potions But I will think on it. and thank you for the offer of a horse."

The plus was that Lord Bartholomew was not really a lord born. to her that was important she didn't like if fact some she simple despised. Her grandfather, who was a farmer too, dealt with them but did not like noble either. He would have liked Lord Bartholomew. However without already market for her magic creations such as she can make now she would not be able to support herself. That is what she wanted more than anything a place where she can become independent and make a living with her magic. Magda had taught her well but her health had been failing in her last years her death Bronwyn firmly laid at a noble's feet.

The old lord that had employed Magda had given her a cottage for the remainder of her life when she retired, however her son who inherited when his father died had come out to the cottage to visit Magda whose health was failing and shortly after that a letter arrived that told Magda she would have to leave the cottage. Bronwyn who had been her student and companion and took care of the had been furious and had gone to see the young lord but he would not even meet with her. He sent his bailiff to made sure they were out in a week. Bronwyn had taken Magda to her Grandfather's place. Giving Magda her own room. After Magda passed away quietly in her sleep, Bronwyn he tried to get work as a mage in the area. But few came to her for potions or scrolls and other such things that she was capable of making. She later found out that someone has been telling tales of her being more companion than an apprentice and a silly farm chit that thought she was a mage. She could not make a living in her home area and so set out to find a place where she could. That key decision had brought her here to this time and place.

Yes, she would think about it but it did not seem to have a lot going for it. She looked around the table again. Bronwyn on ly wished some of the others were as kind and outgoing as Lord Bartholomew was.

Lady Elendil, I have composed a dossier on the Drow woman your arrow so gracefully felled. The woman, whose name, or alias at least is known to be Kestril, bore the rank of a Neophyte Priestess under the services of the Spider-queen Lolth. While we have no current leads as to her motives behind aiding Bolikar’s plans, it can be assumed that she was not the top tier of this plan. Unless she was exiled and trying to gain favor with the surface dweller, the likely scenario is she was the eyes and ears for a higher, as of yet unknown power. That unsettling thought behind us, The objects retrieved from the priestess have been copied using a Military illusionists great skill, allowing you to take them back for evidence, while the original’s shall remain here. The illusionary creations should last ten days, plenty of time I would think for your Council to go over them for anything of importance.

With that, Bartholomew motioned for a guard to bring forth a trunk. Placing it by Elendil’s side and lifting the simple wooden lid, inside were revealed a suit of blackened chain, a pair of daggers, numerous vials, a crossbow, clothing that looked identical to what the priestess wore, and a piece of parchment upon which was an intricate design of what Bart informed everyone was a copy of the tattoo the priestess bore on the back of her neck. “That last detail is compliments of Aelistae, for without her we could have missed it altogether. It may not mean anything to me, but perhaps to your learned people it might ring a bell.

Upon the parchment was a Celtic knot type symbol, save the links were interwoven snakes coiling around a woman of drow descent. Sitting on top of the rest of the gear was a small leather pouch. Inside was a Starspire opal, the clear gemstone alight with a incandescent blue white glow. “In times past, such gifts were given as a sign of friendship and allegiance, and though these tokens are extremely rare since the mines have long run dry, I would ask that you deliver this token to your Elders, that we might strike up communications anew with your people, our neighbors as it were."
As Lord Bartholomew goes on Elendil closes the lid of the bos he had given into her keeping but waits to react to his gift to the elves. It was clear he was leading to something of importance, you could see it in the way he held his body and the way his eyes swept about the room, mainly on the faces of those whose deeds had earned him his position.

Lord Bartholomew extended his gaze across Atharam, Seleyon and Hawkrill as well as he spoke. “This is a new outpost, situated in the shadows of the Starspire Mountains, and though we’ve routed the most obvious threat, lurking drow plans, and unseen dangers aplenty abound to be sure. I would ask each and everyone of you to stay on, and aid me as my Court, my Order of the Scarlet Rose. Each of you is invaluable in your own way, each of you has experience and knowledge to bring to this fledgling operation.

Lord Atharam, I have already spoken with Redeemer Arthas from your temple at Castle Tethyr, and your commision to build a place of worship and outpost for knights has been sanctioned and confirmed. Aelistae, you of all people have so much to offer to we, the ignorant of this world. Surely there is no better place than to share all the good of your heart with people. Elendil, we will need an emissary to your people, and your aim with a bow is as true as I’ve ever seen. Your keen eyes watching the lands around the keep would be a great boon."
Well at least he did not use the title lady this time. When there was a quiet moment she would have to let him know she was not a Lady by title. That she was more than a Lady was something she did not want known, something she was running from.

"Bronwyn, we have no mage amongst our ranks, and if it be training or growth that you seek, than I ask humbly that you consider this as the place to do it. Within these walls, you could start your own repository, your own study… What I’m getting at people is here, now, the opportunities for the future are endless. We have an opportunity to carve into Tethyr, nay all of Toril a place unlike any other. A place where the colour of one’s skin, or the shame of one’s past are left at the gates, where united community strives for the betterment of all.

We have but a small contingent of soldiers, but Xaris, your size in the eyes of those men far outdoes that of your stature, and Linnix, it would be my ultimate honour for you to call the Starspire Bastion your home. I’ll not lie, the building of this place into an ideal community will take time, hard work and resources untold. But with you all at my side, I feel confident we can overcome any obstacle."
Elendil was surprised that he included herself and Bronwyn, and the Knight and his followers, though it seemed he had insured the addition of the Helmites. For herself she was duty bound to carry out her mission, but for Bronwyn it was the best of situations. Here she would be safe, here she would have people around of a good sort. Though she was prepared to take Bronwyn on south if she chose not to stay.

Elendil stood to face Lord Bartholomew. Sir, I am greatly honored by the evidence you have provided, which I will be adding to my report.

As to your offer, Lord Bartholomew, to serve in your new Order of the Sacred Rose, were I free to do so, I believe I would join you, but I cannot commit to joining as I am bound to serve the Council at this time. But I will say this to Bronwyn," she turns to the girl at her side, “Little sister, this would be a good place for you to start your own life as a mage. There will be people about that that have shown care and fellowship, and as my duties might take me from you, I desire tp know you were safe and where I can find you when I am able to return.”

“For now I would ask Bronwyn for the use of that horse, for I do not think that the Runner, who is due back tomorrow, could carry the trunk back by himself.”

"On another note, My Lord," and she bowed properly, "If you have not choosen a device I would suggest one that you demonstrated today, a field of black or blue with a fiery Phoenix rising into the air trailing scarlet roses behind it."

She bowed again and ssits down.

“That was unexpected,” Aelistae mouthed quietly as bells were rung, speeches were made and red roses fell from the sky. The drow priestess knelt to pick up a flower that had fallen by her feet. The thorns on its stalk made it difficult to hold, and its petals fell apart in her hands. But the innocent beauty of the flower and the sweet smell it gave was so different to the ugly lichens and mushrooms that were cultivated by the drow of the Underdark.

‘So soft and fragile, and yet worth so much for the short time its beauty lasts,’ she mused after raising a rose petal to her nose and inhaling its scent deeply.

Aelistae violet eyes fell upon Bart standing upon a stage in the bailey of the Keep. The transformation in him was remarkable. He no longer seemed as a shy and timid farmer, but as a leader of his people. And as he spoke beneath a frieze of the battle of which Aelistae had been a part, he sounded like it too.

“Light of Starspire,” Aelistae repeated with a smile and a shake of her head after Bart had invited her and others inside. “Well I suppose it’s better than being called a ‘cavern crawlin’ spider-bitch worshippin’ negrelf.’”

“I think we should follow” she added to Linnix, who was still by her side, “if only because of the kindnesses he has shown us. And so that we can say our goodbyes.”

---

There were, however, few goodbyes said. Bart revealed that Intella had chosen to move on, and, more surprisingly to Aelistae, that Artanis had done the same. Elendil indicated that soon she would be on her way. And Bronwyn too seemed reluctant to stay. But as for Aelistae, after all that was said, and all that was promised, she could not find the will to say ‘farewell’.

“You have been given a patch of dirt, and you would make it a paradise,” Aelistae found herself saying in response to Bart’s offer. “To take in the homeless and give them new hope; to patrol the land and take in the lost, the hurt and those caught in the teeth of cold; to promote harmony between all races – elf, human, gnome and drow. It’s what the Dark Lady teaches, and I can’t walk away from that even though…even if, I wanted to.”

The Eilistraeyn priestess slipped from her wooden chair, and sauntered over to where Bart waited with a cloak in his hands.

“I’m not sure I’ll do justice to what you would have me do, and there is something that may take me away from here for a time. But I honoured to accept your offer Bartholomew James.”

Aelistae’s eyes fell to the heraldic symbol woven into the deep forest green of the cloaks. A large, noble beast, that she had seen flying from the pennants of Darromar and Castle Tethyr, held a single red rose in its talons.

‘I suppose I am now a single petal on that flower,’ she thought, as her right hand caressed the fragrant rose petal she had picked up earlier.

After Bronwyn thanked Lord Bartholomew for his offer and her response that she would have to think on it before she decided anything. First she clearified. "Lord Bartholomew, I am no lady born and bred. I am the daughter and granddaughter and great drandd daughter of a farmer. Just Bronwyn is fine."

Then thanked him politely for the offer of a horse from his own stock. “I don’t ride much anymore,” she adds, “Buttercup was carrying my supplies since they were too heavy for me. If I stay I will not need a horse for very much but if I continue south I will appreciate you offer.

Elendil then responded to Lord Bartholomew's offer of joining her Order of the Sacred Rose. She thank him, but said she could not commit to it either as she still had unfinished business to take care of first and did not know when it would be finished.

To the heroes that yet remained at the keep Lord Bart offered them something special,. He invited them to continue on here as members of the Order of the Sacred Rose and had cloaks made with insignia on them and a fancy brooch. This Bronwyn thought was a very nice gesture on his part. She didn’t think that monetary reward they had gotten from the queen was all that munificent, especially considering what they had faced here to achieve it.
The black-skinned priestess rose first of those heroes and moved over to where Lord Bart stood holding out one of the cloaks so all could see. It was not so much a walk as a gliding dance to an unheard melody. Bronwyn was fascinated by the fluidity of her movements and more than a bit jealous of that. She being of sturdy country folk and short of stature as well. Bronwyn may be short and of good yeoman stock but she is unaware of a certain fineness of form and face so at odds with her heritage.

Lucindi Cooper had nothing on that Drow and she was known as one of the prettiest girls in the county and moved with a graceful swing of her hips that had the boys hanging around her. Lucindi was tall and willowy with dark eyes and rich brown hair with a swaying walk, and was everything Bronwyn was not—in her own mind. At the festivals and on holidays she always had partners for every dance while Bronwyn usually dance with the fathers and grandfathers,

Bronwyn’s attaention refocuses as the Drow priestess accepted Lord Bart’s offer.

Bronwyn sat quietly picking at her food. It was good, as good as she had had in a while. Trail rations were getting boring. And she appreciated being invited to the festivities. Occasionally Elendil had brought in a rabbit or two thanks to her bigt owl. Bronwyn thad quickly chopped up into a stewpot with some wild onions, and garlic that she had found in an old kitchen garden that was sadly overgrown.

Looking around the table at the others who had shared in Bart triumph she again felt the pang of loneliness. It was one of the things she missed about being at home. She missed her family most of all especially her grandparents who had raised her, her friends and blood relatives by the dozens, some close and some distant.

Bronwyn missed her family and the old wizardess Magda. She had been Magda’s right hand for years, taking care of most of the minor magics needed by the country folk. Magda had trained her well, not just in magic, but languages, history and other things Magda said were necessary. Bronwyn though she knew enough from the village school, but Magda said she was woefully ignorant. So Bronwyn studied whatever Magda said she needed to. Being a bright youngster Bronwyn absorbed everything like a sponge. Magda had known that eventually Bronwyn could raise herself to be a fine Wizardess and the old woman wanted her to be able to deal with all who might come to her, high or low.
Everytime Magda mention that Bronwyn would make a good replacement for her when she passed on Bronwyn had told her she would live forever and she was still doing fine, but the truth was she noticed Magda’s fragility that was gradually increasing.. It made her sad to think about losing her long time-teacher and friend, but she also looked forward to the day when she could make her own way in the world.


However, after Magda’s death the customer’s became fewer and fewer and she didn’t know why but she realized that she could not make a living in her county .


Bronwyn had told her she would live forever and she was still doing find, but to herself she notice the fragility of the woman that was gradually increasing.. It made her sad to think about losing her long time-teacher and friend, but she also looked forward to the day when she could make her own way in the world.


At least Lord Bart was a good man. noble or not. Her own dealing with some nobles had soured her as well as her grandfather’s general feeling about them. However her direct knowledge of some other nobles set her against them.

Bronwyn had grown up on her Grandfather’s farm. He was of good yeoman stock, freemen for generations who had owned and farmed their own lands. even before the lord of the area had ever been given this area to rule by the crown.

Bronwyn had grown up knowing his feelings about noble, but had never experience any problems herself until the old lord who had given Magda a cottage to live out her life in for her service to him had died and the son had inherited. Bronwyn knew the new lord by sight. He attended various events and festivals especially what the old lord was getting on in years. It was shortly after he was raised to lord that things went wrong for Magda and herself, and she could never figure out how or more importantly why it happened.


Bronwyn remembered the day he arrived at Magda’s cottage. She had been in the small kitchen kneading bread, sleeves rolled arms bare and dusted in flour. He seemed cordial and very polite at first and walked into the small cottage. He was certainly good looking and she felt slightly embarrassed by her current state. Inviting him into the main room she hurried off to get Magda prepare tea. She took the kettle off the hearth hook and poured it into a tea pot and put in enough of Magda’s best tea.

Magda was there when she returned from the what served as the kitchen and set out the tea with some honey and thick cream, she moved to serve the lord but Magda told her to go clean up and return to her in ten minutes. Obediently she went off to clean up and change as Magda had asked. Bronwyn washed her hands and face and brushed her hair twisting it up in a knot and pinning it in place. before slipping on a fresh shift and her best dress suitable for a young woman of some means. With a quick pinch to her cheeks she returned to the main room close to the mentioned time.

Bronwyn pick up the tea pot and asked politely if the lord would like so more tea and at his nod she poured it for him she gave him a nice smile but was surprised to see his smile fade and be replaced with a frown. He looked to Magda and stood. “I really must go.” he started and paused then added as an after thought, “ I realized I have spent to much time and will be late for an appointment I will think on what you said. ” He gave a quick nod and strode out the door. Bronwyn just stood there perplexed and turned to Magda. “I didn’t do anything wrong did I?” she asked uncertainly.

“No child, you did nothing wrong at all,” Magda said with a reassuring look to Bronwyn.

It was shortly after that that the letter had been delivered by the lord’s man that Magda could not longer use the cottage. Bronwyn had written to the young lord—well not so young he s old enough to be her father after all. but he never answered. She tried to go see him but was denied even that. That is what soured her forever on nobles.

After Magda’s death her customer’s became fewer and fewer and she didn’t know why but she realized that she could not make a living in her home land. That is what has sent her out into a search for a new place where she could practice her magic and what had lead her this far. She had sworn never to work for a noble, they were fickle and inconstant and their promises were not kept..


Bronwyn did not think Lord Bart would ever act like that to those who served him or that he would rule over, a point in his favor. She thought her grandfather would like the man a lot, even if he was not a lord.

Leaning across the Elendil she says pick out a good one and you can certainly borrow it to use. “I like mares. They are sweeter than stallions, but a gelding is just fine too. No mood swings with them because of the time of month or a mare ready for breeding,” she says with the simple forthrightness of a country raised girl.

Her journey had brought her this far but whether she would she stop or go on. She did not know. IS was not the wuestion that ws simple. it was now a shoice between want, if and will be was a distant consideration.

"What I’m getting at people is here, now, the opportunities for the future are endless. We have an opportunity to carve into Tethyr, nay all of Toril a place unlike any other..."
He's granted the title of "Lord", given more money than he has probably ever dreamed of before, set in a place of power over men... Sir Bartholomew has most assuredly been show the path of corruption. Has he already begun to follow it? His first public act was to commemorate his victory with that finely crafted Liberty Bell and it's mural immortalizing his ascent into this new-found position.

Now he's offering us all a place beside him in this new order. Is it like he said in the bailey, does he truly believe that credit should be shared between us? Or is this a ploy to keep those who lifted him up nearby to keep the pedestal steady?
Aelistae was the first to stand and accept the cloak Lord James was offering. "This is what the Dark Lady teaches..."
I want to believe that Bart hasn't changed from the kind farmer I knew out on the road. That wasn't that long ago, maybe he... No. He's acting now like the sort of person my parents would have associated with, the kind that...

Artanis, why did you really leave? Did you and Intella discover something this last tenday that prevented you from staying?
Talus reexamined Bartholomew's words in this new light. As part of of his lure to entice this new girl, Bronwyn, to stay and become a part of the Scarlet Rose he had said that "we have not mage amongst our ranks." Was that be the beginnings of a plot to force the warlock from the group in the same way the newly appointed Lord had expelled Artanis? He couldn't be sure, but Talus was finally starting to make friends with some of the others and he wouldn't be run out so easily. Just the other night he's asked Aelistae if she would mind teaching him the Elven language. She had seemed glad to share her knowledge with him, and as their conversations continued he found that he as willing to tell her about Mulhorand and its people.

A pang of guilt interrupted Talus' thoughts. He'd developed somwhat of a crush on Artanis, but had lacked the courage to act on it, even avoiding talking to her in some cases out of a fear of embarrassing himself. And now she was gone. Gone either to fight demons from her past, or to escape something evil in this room. He regretted never letting Artanis know how he felt and wished he could chase after her now and pull her from the fire again. But what was happening here, in this room, held too strong a pull over the conflicted young man. He'd spent over a year on the road, fleeing his home and the drunken stupor caused by too-much power. And now, here, he had the perfect chance to study it's corrupting affects from the onset, even knowing the man before he had power.

This was too good to pass up, so saying a quick prayer for Artanis' well-being to whatever Beings might be listening, the warlock followed Aelistae in accepting the cloak and position Lord Bartholomew James offered.

"I accept your, most generous, offer... in the spirit with which it is given, M'Lord. I had originally intended only to aid you in your quest to rid this outpost of the filth that had overrun its walls before heading back out onto the road again to find what may be found. These new developments and the founding of your new Order promise to be much more interesting than anything that could be found out in the wastes. I am with you."

Talus bowed slightly, not breaking eye contact with Bart, and returned to his seat with the new garment folded in his hands. He'd need a few minutes to examine the object before he'd feel comfortable wearing the thing. And he'd need a few more years before he'd feel comfortable about following any advice given by his father.

"Never trust anything that could be connected to the weave until you either understand that connection or you sever it."

Xaris walked through the new fort that they have captured, seeing the hustle and bustle of civilians, but every now and then the flash backs of goblins, gnolls, and orcs would appear instead of humans. It would be a long time before he could get the traumas out of his head stemming from his near death experience. Many nights he stayed silent, trying to sleep but every time he closed his eyes the ax kept on crashing down upon him, but then he always remembered the soothing healing of many hands weaving him back together. He was like this for days, silent to himself as he wandered about, but whenever he seen another face, one that either re veered him a hero or just looked at him because of his skin, he always smiled...

The night of the ceremony he tried to push the thoughts out of his immediate mind, and bury it deep into his subconscious with many other forgotten memories. He dressed finely and kept a smile as Bart's speech reverberated through out the keep, and a warm feeling filled up inside him as many wishes were now true with the founding of the keep. He received his share of the reward with a smile and bid Bart a simple thank you as he passed. After though, they were called into a back room where further plans were being discussed.

It saddened him so that Artanis had to go, but it also made him happy that she finally was doing what was right for herself. He chuckled at the last comment made. After that, Bart talked inspirationally about the untold potentials of the keep, and Xaris liked where he was going with this. He walked over to a wardrobe and opened it to reveal beautifully made cloaks with golden roses as clasps. As Xaris watched the others rise to accept the cloaks, he waited until Talus came back, and then stood. His hopped down from his chair and walked over to Bart. He stood in front of the man staring up at him, knowing that good filled his heart, and that he could not leave him now in his time of need. He reached up to accept the cloak, becoming a member of the scarlet rose. With it nestled in his hands he stood still admiring Bart, and spoke.

" Lord Bartholomew, in the centuries that I have lived I have never met a human who cared so much for others. I signed the charter to join you on this quest to aid those who needed it the most, and I thought when that was done I would move on, helping other when they needed it once more. But through out the time I've been with you all I've learned so much about my self. In talking with Elesia..." He paused to remember her, and how much she helped him out with his hidden problems. " and everyone else I've realized that I can do so much more with others and that not everything can be solved on my own. Dear Bart you have the wisdom of my elder Yyriendel, and the courage of my father who they both surely will be proud of my company here today. I find that they would both would want me to join you and everyone else, as I can do so much more to help the people that need it the most with all of you, than I can ever do on my own."

Xaris smiled warmly to Bart, then bowed slightly and took to his seat, admiring his newly acquired cloak and its golden clasp.

As others went up to accept their cloaks Elendil stood and excused herself. Elendil was at odds end, so to speak and she had things to attend to, which meant nothing as she had her own worries stemming from the Runner’s use of the title Lady.

She had considered Lord Bartholomew's offer to act as a liaison for the Elves, but she had given her word to do this job and it was not yet done, for that she had to decline the offer. It was a good idea, had the Elves and the humans been more in alliance, this problem might never have come about.

Over her time on the mainland she had come to feel that the Elves retreat to Evermeet was wrong. It allowed evil races to fill in the void. There was word that had come from The Cormanthyr that Drow now held the Old Elven Court. It was a sacrilege for that to have happened. In the old days the Elven cavalry and fighters stanchly held the forest borders against all the evils about them.

She went outside and found the corral with the horses; stables had yet to be built. She had asked Bronwyn for the use of the horse Lord Bartholomew had offered her, but she a good as turned it down, if she decided to stay. So much for that idea. Perhaps there was a mount she could buy, her eyes went over the stock and finally came to a dark silver dun that was heavily dappled.

She held out her hand and called to it in Elven, “Come hither, Pretty One.”

The mare lifted her head and looked over to Elendil.

Bronwyn watch as the various members of the other group went forward to take up the cloak as symbol of the Order that Lord Bartholomew had created. She felt that it was well deserved by that group of people considering what they had done. While she had not interacted with them much since the end of the battle t hey all seemed so involved in what was going on cleaning the place up and not up to passing the time with a stranger. Of course to be honest nether had she gone very far to join them. She had needed time to keep apart and deal with her own thoughts and memories.

The dark Drow priestess was first to accept the cloak as emblem of Lord Bartholomew’s new Order of the Sacred Rose. Bronwyn had watched her move about the table to take up the cloak. Perhaps she would try again now that they had all gathered her to celebrate. As the woman moved back to her seat, Bronwyn rises to congratulate her, “I wish to congratulate you on what you have done here. I know my first reaction to you was…..ah………….well,,,,I was afraid you were the other one raised up from near death. I do wish to apologize for that erroneous assumption on my part.” The rest she left unspoken because it night be insulting to the woman standing before, like Bronwyn had never heard a good Drow.”

Bronwyn had been aware of an undercurrent between Elendil and the other group, and kind of felt caught in between and therefore had made no overtures to the others, keeping mostly to herself. in the days. but none the less she holds her hand out her hand, a bit uncertain ly, not knowing if it was something Drow knew about. But she did, as she was taught to behave politely, regardless. To do less would not be polite as she had learned manners.

It was to be hoped that these people, who had so help Lord Bart to gain his position were well rewarded considering the dangers they faced to so it. She had been out there and knew how scary it was with all the goblins and gnolls running around everywhere, never knowing form one moment to the next that they might have come across more goblins and gnolls or had them come across the two of them out there by themselves.

“Anyway, I think it is well deserved under the trying circumstances you all faced.”

Bronwyn rose for each of the others that accepted the cloak . It was only polite that each was treated the same as she had the Drow. Fair was fair.

Violet eyes narrowed to regard the hand that had been thrust before them, and the woman to which it belonged. She was dressed simply, and her round, full figure seemed completely at odds with the lithe, supple form of most drow.

‘Bronwyn,’ Aelistae recalled. She remembered the blind panic that had been writ across the woman’s face when they had first met. And even still the human betrayed her unease through her strained smile and the nervous shuffling of her feet. ‘But at least she’s tried,’
“Thankyou,” Aelistae voiced to the woman with a smile, and slowly entwined her dark, sable hand around hers. “And there’s no need to apologize. Most of my kind would be deserving of your suspicion.”

“But,” Aelistae added, “hopefully now not all will.”

The drow priestess shook the woman’s hand softly, before withdrawing it so that she could exchange the black cloak she currently wore, for the green that Bart had provided.

Looking into the eyes of the Drow priestess Bronwyn replies, "Yes I can now say I have met a Drow that is not an enemy rather a woman of good heart as your actions have proved."

Bronwyn's gase holds stedy on Aelistae's and she bobs a curtsy and sits back down. She does however glance over to Elendil just to see what she thinks abut Bronwyn's overture to the dark skinned elf, but Elendil seem preoccupied and soon left the table. She felt no need to follow her so she continued taking part in the celebratory dinner.

Elendil is surprised as the mare whickers softly to her and starts to turn, as she does the moonlight glints in her eyes and sensitive Elven eyes catch the flash of violet.

What was an Elven steed doing here? (She is Loriel's horse that she brought from Evermeet.) She coos to the mare and the silver dun comes to her outstretched hand.

"You are as far from home as I am," she speaks to the horse as if it could understand. Where is the one that brought you forth from Elvenhome? She realized that the mare could not answer that, and at this point she did not take to time to use the magics to communicate with the mare.

The answer to her questions lay back inside the great hall. Elendil headed back with a determined step she wanted the mare, if only to see she was returned home. A pang of uneasiness filled her, the runner who called her Lady just might have learned she was of Elven nobility. That meant she had been found and would have to return home.

Elendil drew in a deep breath at the big double doors and let it out before she stepped back inside.

It seemed the celebration had moved from the more formal ceremonies to the entertainment. She looked about and noted a number of the group with the new green cloaks.

Spotting Lord Bartholomew in a tete-a-tete she waited until he was finished and sitting back in his highseat listening to a bard sing the tale of the great battle to free the keep. She moved closer and waited till the song was at an end, and then stepped up to the man bowing.

"My Lord," Elendil paused, how could she put this, coming at this time to ask to purchase a horse, but she could not rest until she had freed the mare, "there is a silver dun mare of Elven blood in the corral, I wish to purchase her."
There was an intense look on Elendil's face. It had become very important to her to rescue the mare, maybe because she was a link to home, just as Talon, whom she had raised from a hatchling, the mare was a reminder of home. Home----so far away.

She glanced up to see the big eagle owl eating some rodent he had caught. There had been more than enough to feed him. Luckily, with the aid of a Druid of the Elven Grove, he had been trained to leave his pellets and droppings outside of buildings and living spaces.

Linnix was silent throughout the speech by Bartholomew, which was perhaps strange for the woman. Normally she wasn't ever at a loss for words, but this time, she was.

Just where is my place?
She quietly asked herself that question, but she already knew the answer, looking over toward Aelistae.

My place is by my sister... that is how it should've been before too... with Caera...
Linnix shakes her head, clearing her mind of the thought. No, that was in the past. She could not change the past, even if her heart wanted otherwise. But did she want otherwise? It was because of her choices that she now knew her place, and now she could do the right things, rather than be a measly thief. Still...

Home... it's been a very long time since I've had one... I've had places to stay, but not a home...
Linnix smiled. Yes, she could use a home. She also felt, more than heard or saw, Aelistae also accept the offer. That was all she needed.

"I have only one thing to ask." Linnix said aloud, pulling off her own cloak, "This cloak, although it was made by evil hands, is very useful for me. I'd like it if it were cleansed, and made to match the others. Although it was made by evil, it can do good now instead."

Linnix smiled, "Yes, I am too accepting your offer."