After sequestering herself in the apartment for a week, Nalynn opted to finally venture out, realizing that it was unlikely she could hide from this wicked witch, Ebonstarr for very long. She checked herself in the mirror, making sure her raven-black hair wasn't misbehaving. Before she left she looked around for Torm who had been absent for several days, but he was nowhere to be found. She grabbed her favorite conical pink hat and walked out the door.
After wandering the streets for a few minutes she decided to catch up on the news of the realm, so she headed down to the Meeting Hall to read the latest posts. She was touched by the groundswell of support for her and Torm in the wake of the chaos threatened by Ebonstarr and smiled to think of the wonderful friends they have made in the realm. Yet Ebonstarr's venomous threats had found their way onto the boards in the Seekers' land. Frowning, she headed off for Port Llast and beyond, where last she had seen her dear friend, Riklaun.
When she finally caught up with Riklaun, they decided to visit the Gallant Prince and seek the brass button. After encountering many battles and a few newcomers, they were successful in their quest, returning the button to Lord Nasher. But all she received for her trouble were a few Cleric scrolls, for which she has no use. "Ah well, I shall place them safely in my vault, perhaps another can use them," she mused.
As she headed home she came across Torm, who was limping and in great pain. Running toward him she cried, "My sweet husband! What has happened to you? Here, put your arm around my shoulder and I'll help you back to our apartment."
Torm was barely able to speak, his pain so debilitating. Finally he whispered "Golfdsl...; It was Golfdsl. He made a table jump in front of me, and it dislocated my knee!" Nalynn frowned, for this did not sound like the jester she has come to adore for his amusing antics and anecdotes.
"Sweetheart, are you sure? That is so unlike Golfdsl. Perhaps you are mistaken. You know that witch is out and about in the realms. Are you sure it wasn't she disguised as Golfdsl?" Torm winced and thought about it "You know, he did seem awfully strange when he cast that table in my path." A chill ran up his spine as a cold wind laden with evil intent blew across the square. "And he had white hair...Golfdsl doesn't have white hair."
"Never mind my love, let me get you home now and tend to your wound."
She helped him up the stairs and into bed. Then she called for the Seekers'
physician. She prepared a potion and brought it to Torm. "Here, drink this.
It's made from a special healing potion I found during my travels in Crossergate
a few weeks ago." The liquid smelled of mint and honey. Torm drank it and
was soon asleep.
A few days later Riklaun stood inside Nalynn's house. Nalynn looked at her friend, Swordmaster of the elfin guild, Tel'Mithrim--The Grey Company. With his fair skin, anyone who knew him not would assume he was a grey elf. Riklaun had had many interesting experiences when he had informed such people he was actually an albino drow.
They had been adventuring together for many years, some of their exploits being so fascinating that Tel'Mithrim's chronicler had recorded them in a tome titled Ravenlore. She had been a different person back then... Literally. She had been a halfling then, but she had been killed--by Riklaun. A drow control spell had been cast on him through a mysterious dagger he had found. The gods gave Nalynn life again, but for some reason she had been reborn as an elf, with no memory of her prior life as a halfling.
Riklaun cleared his throat, snapping Nalynn away from past memories. His stern look told that this was a business trip, not just for a fun excursion into Neverwinter woods. His arms were folded on his chest and was unmoving. Torm's raving did not faze the elf. The news had hit him hard. Riklaun would not let Torm seek out Ebonstarr for it was an elf matter to be handled by the elves only. Several of the Grey Company Elves stood outside waiting for Rik to finish.
"I do not give a damn about your petty racial ideals, Riklaun. Nalynn is my wife, and I do not take kindly to threats to her." Torm said. "I will locate Ebonstarr with or without your help."
"No, Torm. For your own safety please stay out of this. You do not know Ebonstarr like I do." Riklaun said. "You can help by keeping Nalynn safe and hidden. If Ebonstarr finds her, there is no telling what that drow is capable of doing."
"But Rik, I can take care of myself." Nalynn interrupted. She stood up from the bed she was sitting on. Rik turned to her.
"No, you have only just begun the training of Bladesinging," referring to an advanced elfin art of battle. "There is much you do not know yet. Your training is not complete."
Torm picked up his scabbard and hooked it to his belt. "I am going Rik. Remember, I did save you from that cursed dagger Ebonstarr gave you. You owe me this much."
"Torm, I cannot allow this. If you go, then who is here to protect Nalynn? Golfdsl is gone, Solack is away on business. You need to stay here for her safety if nothing else." Riklaun turned to leave. "Be well Torm, I have to go. Protect her with your life. If we fail, you will be our last hope."
With that, Riklaun left the house and took his best Bladesingers out to find
Ebonstarr. Three trustworthy elves armed with bows and blades stood ready.
Another already was scouting ahead. They would find Ebonstarr this day, or die
Continue to Chapter 2