Thomas Reid - The Emerald Scepter

Pilos winced, realizing the caustic substance must have been an acid, and wanted to go to the man, to soothe his pain with a healing touch. But Quill wasn't done yet. Staggering, he managed to rise, and Laithe leveled her wand to give him another dose.

She wasn't quite fast enough.

Quill threw himself at the woman, wrapping his arms around her just as her magical device burped forth another blob of acid. Quill smacked into the blob head-first, causing it to dribble on himself and spatter back onto Laithe. She screamed as she stumbled back, Quill still clinging to her.

In a dual cry of pain, the pair went over the side of the wall to the street below.

Horrified, Pilos could only watch the two combatants disappear. Then he realized that the two mercenaries were yelling at him.

"Come on!" Horial yelled. "Just drop!"

Pilos glanced over at where Edilus was still fighting with Junce, and he saw a stricken look upon the assassin's face. The priest realized that Junce had seen Laithe go down, too. In his distress, he did not keep his guard up, and Edilus managed a lucky strike, cutting into the man's sword shoulder.

With a primal cry of pain and anger, Junce swung back at the druid, but his attack was awkward. Edilus bounced out of the way. With a curse, the assassin said something and vanished.

A crossbow bolt whizzed past Pilos's ear, and he saw then that guards had drawn near the base of the wall on the inside of the Generon grounds. He noticed more guards running down the street from both directions along the wall, closing in on the fugitives' position.

Jolted into action, Pilos tried to figure a way to lower himself down, but nothing prominent was available to anchor the rope. Just when he thought he might have to hang over the side and jump, Edilus was there. Thankfully, Pilos handed him the rope.

"No time," the druid said as another bolt flew past them. Reaching out, Edilus grabbed Pilos by the collar and shoved, and the two of them tumbled over the side of the wall together.

Vambran watched the waves crash against the rocks below him, squinting as the morning sun made the water glint. The smell of salt carried on the fresh breeze was strong, and the humidity was high, but the mercenary didn't mind. It felt clean to him.

Below him, among the rocks, Arbeenok prowled about, scooping up shellfish for a morning meal. The druid had a bundle of them already, and Vambran doubted the two of them could ever finish what was in that bulging satchel, but then his stomach rumbled and he grinned at the thought of such a feast. He had been eating nothing but dried meat and bread-when he wasn't being fed bugs by the druids, of course-and looked forward to a different sort of meal. The majestic scenery coupled with the warm morning was almost enough to let the mercenary forget all the difficulties of the last few days.

Almost.

The two of them had traveled west and south from Reth, speeding along the shoreline, until they reached a point of land that stuck way out from the coast into the Reach. They weren't far from where Lady's Favor had gone down, Vambran had realized, noting the miles and miles of beach below them as Arbeenok had swooped closer to land. The lieutenant wasn't sure what prompted his companion to alight on the outcropping of rock, but it seemed as good a place to start as any.

The next question, of course, was how to travel below the water effectively.

Vambran considered the possibilities, then settled down to pray to Waukeen while Arbeenok continued to gather food. The mercenary's thoughts were troubled, though, for he didn't merely want to ask for his goddess's blessings in the form of divine power. He needed more than just spells. He needed some sense of understanding, some feeling of peace, for all of the horrors he had endured in the last few days. A tiny part of him wanted some answers from Waukeen, to understand why she would allow those tragedies to pile up around him.

Rather than dive right in and begin asking for solace, Vambran started slowly, settling into a meditative trance. For a long time, he felt nothing but a growing sensation of tranquility, listening to the waves crashing against the rocky beach and the gulls screaming as they circled overhead. He imagined the sun bathing his face as his goddess's glorious radiance showering down upon him, and he found a center. He began to look inward, for he often found that the best answers to his most spiritual questions welled up from his heart, from his own sense of faith. He hoped that would be the case that morning.

Why? was the question that had been plaguing Vambran. Why me? Why has all of this been thrust upon me? Did I in some way fail you? Did you want to see my life take such a turn for some reason I cannot fathom at the moment? Is this a punishment for some transgression?

Once the question was clear in his mind, Vambran began to mull it. Free of the guilt and the anger, able to draw back and examine every aspect of the circumstances with a calm eye, Vambran felt the understanding flood into him at last.

Strength.

You're not punishing me, Vambran realized, accepting what he trusted his goddess was telling him. You're asking me to take the burden because you believe I can.

That realization, that true understanding at last of what all of it had been about, flooded through Vambran like a wave of pure joy. He felt the tears flow then, not tears of sorrow for his losses, but tears of unbridled love for Waukeen.

Thank you for your trust, he thought. I will do my best.

Persevere.

I will try. Thank you.

For a long moment after his revelation, Vambran sat with his eyes closed, trying to absorb everything he had come to understand. Finally, with the burdens of his trials and tribulations lifted, he opened his eyes and took it all in-the sky, the ocean, the screaming gulls, the rocks…Being in that place, in that time, was by deific design, certainly, but it was also a moment to be savored for its own sake, a celebration of service unto itself.

It's not a burden, he decided. It's a reward. Faith begets faith.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Arbeenok asked, standing beside the mercenary officer. "Savor it."

Vambran laughed. Really laughed. "I was just thinking the exact same thing, my friend," he said when he regained his composure. "We were brought to this place because we can savor it, and that is a gift not to be squandered."

Arbeenok smiled and sat down. "Then let us eat and savor a meal, too," he said.

The two of them ate in silence, appreciating the bountiful meal the sea had provided. When they were done, Vambran knew he was ready.

"We don't know what we will find beneath the waves today," he told the druid, "but I am willing to accept whatever is put in front of us. I have prepared for the journey with appropriate blessings. The only thing left to do is begin."

Arbeenok nodded. "Then let us trust our instincts and what nature shows us," he said.

They walked down to the beach together and looked for a passable route into the water, one that would not let the current dash them against the rocks. They found a small inlet, calm and still, and they began to wade out into the shallows. As they strode deeper into the Reach, Vambran took his holy coin from inside his shirt and prayed, thanking Waukeen for the abilities he would be granted. Then, when the water covered his shoulders, he ducked his head down.

The first breath was always the hardest. He had to fight the urge to keep his mouth clamped shut, to hold in the air already in his lungs. But he knew the spell would work, and at last he relented and began to breathe. The water gurgled and swirled into his mouth, but only sweet air filled his lungs. Vambran sighed in satisfaction and turned to Arbeenok.