'Life teems wherever water flows. Wherever you wander, find a river or stream and follow its course, and you will surely discover habitation. Oftentimes, civilizations were founded along rivers or coastlines, as the waterways provided a source of food, irrigation, and transportation. Many cultures revered their rivers, erecting temples, statues, and shrines near their banks.' —From Travelogues by Explorer Tedric Silverbirch

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After departing from the workshop, Kelzryn followed Bjorn aimlessly as the man guided him along a cobblestone path. Neither spoke, both lost in their thoughts, though Kelzryn sensed a hint of concern emanating from the man. Bjorn likely fretted over his...uncouth introduction regarding his true nature. Kelzryn would have preferred discretion, yet no lasting harm resulted, so he absolved the lapse in judgment.

"About earlier...I'm sorry Evelyne blurted those things without warning." Bjorn broke the silence, his apology genuine and sincere. "I'd intended to ease her into the idea. You have my assurances I'll discuss the matter with her later."

Kelzryn inclined his head, accepting his contrition.

"Your intent is admirable," he acknowledged. He didn't particularly care about his secrecy, though prudence dictated he exercised caution. Too many mortals were driven by greed. Given the right motivation, some would resort to drastic measures, foolish as they may seem. "However, her reaction did not vex me."

Bjorn visibly relaxed at his remark, his relief palpable. "Thank you, and pardon Evelyne's...exuberance. I've not seen her act so zealous before. Though, Ebonheim can bring out the passion in even the most stalwart hearts."

"Indeed..." Kelzryn concurred. Evelyne's impassioned testimony impressed him. Devotion, pure and strong, resided at the core of her adoration. A worthy, priceless quality in a devotee. "Such loyalty is rare. Cherish her. Such dedication seldom exists nowadays. Gods rarely inspire such veneration and respect—as I'm sure you're aware."

Bjorn chuckled wryly, his agreement immediate. "I cannot deny your claim. Few gods, if any, inspire such ardor these days."

Kelzryn detected the bitter edge underlying his words, mirroring a sentiment universal in his experience. Mortals and their errant, misguided worship. Gods, greedy and covetous, squandered their gifts, and repaid their benefactors' devotion with exploitation, corruption, and negligence.

Nidur represented an apt example. From his time observing the northern region of the Hrafnsteinn territories, Kelzryn discerned Nidur's reputation as a capricious, merciless god, whose rule amounted to despotic tyranny. Worse, his treatment toward his followers had bordered upon disdain and apathy.

Kelzryn respected neither his methods nor his principles, though his opinion mattered little, and the mortals endured his cruel reign regardless. The bonds forged by faith were difficult to break. Yet, exiles existed even amongst such chains. Bjorn and his band were living proof.

"Still, there's an exception to every rule," Kelzryn voiced his observation, studying the passing buildings and structures idly, curious to view Ebonheim's mortal constructions. Much improved, compared to Nidur's crude architectural designs, which Kelzryn suspected was erected haphazardly via divine will.

"Despite her inexperience, your goddess's character exhibits exemplary traits and qualities. Such admirable virtues warrant devotion. Be proud, Bjorn, for Ebonheim will lead your town to prosperity and greatness."

"Our goddess. Remember, we're her people too," Bjorn reminded him with a wry grin, correcting him gently. "And yes, pride isn't a strong enough word to describe how we feel. Ebonheim's boundless compassion and generosity blesses us every day. She embodies the very heart and soul of our town, guiding us, protecting us, and leading us together. We owe her everything, Kelzryn."

"So I've observed."

Kelzryn appreciated Bjorn's earnest candor. From the little time he had spent interacting with the man, his impressions painted a favorable portrait—a respectable, dependable, and dutiful individual. He valued forthright honesty, loathing hidden agendas and duplicity. Such convictions aligned favorably with Kelzryn's preferences and expectations.

They wandered the town aimlessly, eventually reaching a cluster of longhouses by a riverbank.

Hfransteinnian design, Kelzryn noted, recognizing the layout and structure, shaped similarly to the residences he'd observed during his travels. Wooden walls, steep-pitched roofs, and narrow windows comprised the majority. Simple and austere, yet serviceable. A few differed architecturally, exhibiting distinctly unfamiliar aesthetics, likely influenced by the town's other residents.

Near the shoreline, a handful of buildings stood apart—a shipyard, judging by the dock and the vessels moored nearby, along with numerous stacks of barrels and crates, likely supplies and provisions for voyages along the river.

Workers milled about, attending to their tasks. Several paused to scrutinize him, their gazes harboring an understandable mix of curiosity and wariness.

Kelzryn's attention gravitated toward a vessel currently under construction. Its hull, a sturdy, reinforced frame consisting of overlapping layers of planks and beams, had completed its initial stages and received minimal exterior embellishment, except a row of eye-catching carvings adorned its prow and stern, and a magnificent depiction of Ebonheim inscribed onto the hull.

Curiosity compelled him closer, and Kelzryn headed toward the boat, prompting Bjorn to scramble after him.

"Hey, wait. Where are you going?" Bjorn called out, hurrying alongside him. "Careful. The boat's not finished. Please don't damage the hull. Sæunn will murder me. Oh, and don't frighten the workers."

Ignoring Bjorn's alarmed warnings, Kelzryn slowed his pace, maintaining a leisurely stroll. Upon his approach, a woman supervising the workers regarded him, her eyes narrowed, the grip on her tool tightening as she sized him up. A hammer, by the looks of its design, and its sharpened, heavy-headed stone head. Her defensive posture indicated potential aggression, though Kelzryn dismissed her as a threat.

Still, prudence urged him cautious, and Kelzryn halted several paces before her, adopting an amiable posture.

"Can I help you?" She spoke, her terse, direct query betraying her apprehension. Her accent, marked by a distinct, guttural flavor, and her complexion, fair skin and blonde hair—Hfransteinnian. "Sir...?"

Kelzryn's estimation judged her no older than forty years, though her hardened expression, weathered and lined with premature wrinkles, bore evidence of the difficulties her journey entailed. Scars dotted her hands and forearms, and her exposed arms revealed well-defined muscles, earned through hard labor. Evidence of a hardy, resilient, and tough-natured person.

"Good noon," Kelzryn greeted her affably, inclining his head respectfully. "Apologies for disturbing you. My curiosity compelled me closer, and I wished to inspect the vessel's construction. May I?"

His polite address and his courteous manners tempered her tension, and her wary expression softened, if marginally.

"Ah. Feel free to look, then," she permitted, relaxing her stance. "It's not done yet, so tread carefully. Workers are still working on the hull."

"Certainly." Kelzryn circled the vessel, scrutinizing its framework. Solid construction, reinforced and strengthened. Functionality over ornamentation. Utilitarian, yet durable.

Overall, acceptable work, though Kelzryn found the hull's proportions insufficient.

"A sturdy frame," he complimented her efforts, concealing his doubts. "May I inquire the ship's intended purpose? Trade? Exploration? Combat?"

"Exploration and trade." The woman crossed her arms, surveying the hull keenly. "There are many rivers wide and deep enough for riverboats in this valley. We intend to traverse and chart their courses. I've been told that there's a great lake somewhere farther inland, and I suspect tributaries feed the water. Who knows what we might find along the rivers, or the lake itself?"

"A reasonable goal," Kelzryn approved, privately lamenting the lack of combat considerations, though exploration did necessitate expediency and maneuverability. "I wish you success."

"Thank you," the woman acknowledged his well-wishes with a faint smile, the gesture transforming her worn features and lending her a more youthful, attractive appearance. Kelzryn perceived a glimmer of optimism and ambition buried underneath her somber, reserved temperament.

Bjorn, lingering nearby, joined him as Kelzryn completed his inspection. "This is Sæunn," Bjorn introduced, gesturing toward the woman. "Shipbuilder and a resident of Hfransteinn originally. She's my wife. Sæunn, meet Kelzryn."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." Sæunn sketched a perfunctory bow, and Kelzryn returned the greeting in kind. "Bjorn, I assume you're accompanying him?"

"Yep. I'm his escort." Bjorn confirmed, chuckling. "Don't worry, I'm not neglecting my duties."

The two began conversing, and Kelzryn tuned them out, disinterested.

Marriage—a custom he did not comprehend, though his observations implied a special significance among mortals. Their unions, a permanent and binding commitment, akin to a pact.

Kelzryn understood the practicality and utility, for mortals propagated their species by reproducing and multiplying. However, emotional sentiments also apparently played a critical part, though the rationale baffled him.

Passion and romance were transient, ephemeral. Fleeting delusions, subject to change or dissolution, easily replaced and discarded. Why pledge oneself irrevocably, committing oneself and forsaking other prospects?

His eye twitched slightly at a sharp, stabbing ache. Strange. A phantom sensation, a brief flare radiating from his chest, akin to the throes of a wound reopening, dissipating almost instantly.

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He placed his palm across the afflicted area, massaging the aching spot gingerly. The only grievous wound that had affected him was the injury inflicted upon him by those ancient artificers. It had healed, though the lingering echoes persisted.

But it wasn't the phantom pain that troubled him.

His critique of the mortal practice of marriage rang hypocritical, given his regard toward Ebonheim, and their shared connection—an association his mind shied away instinctively, unwilling to pursue.

Kelzryn could scarcely call his sentiment an illusion, an ephemeral delusion, or a temporary fancy. Ebonheim had burrowed herself deeply within his soul, carving an enduring mark impossible to erase. Had she experienced similar sentiments? Or did their bond remain one-sided? Whatever the case, he doubted she'd welcome the notion—should she possess cognizant knowledge of the connection.

A disconcerting consideration Kelzryn refused to confront, preferring ignorance over acknowledgment.

"...boat will require several more months of work," Sæunn concluded her discussion with Bjorn. "We're considering traveling downstream, exploring the river first. There's a lake located eastward, and we could sail across, and chart the rivers beyond. Once the boat's done, we'll set sail by summer. Are you coming along, Bjorn?"

"Of course. Wouldn't want you wandering into danger, and I could use a sail and adventure. Plus, you could use the muscle," Bjorn ribbed playfully. "And fishing. Lots of fish."

Sæunn laughed. "I'll leave the fishing to you."

"Excellent." Bjorn glanced Kelzryn's way. "Anything else you'd like to see, Kelzryn? Or shall we continue wandering?"

"By all means, lead the way," Kelzryn acquiesced. He had no destination in mind and didn't mind Bjorn's company. Having someone familiar with the town accompany him simplified the process considerably.

"All right." Bjorn directed a wave of farewell toward his wife. "See you later. Stay safe. Love you."

"I know," Sæunn acknowledged with an indulgent smile. "You too."

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Engin and Roderick paused their chess match to observe Kelzryn and Bjorn as they meandered past. Engin leaned against the wall, peering through a small, glass window. The chessboard and pieces lay abandoned between them, left untouched and forgotten during their informal observational activity.

Roderick, having snuck to the other side of the house, peeked through a larger window.

"Interesting, isn't he," Roderick commented, keeping his voice low. "Quite the unusual fellow, especially when he's dressed like...that. Gets the imagination churning. What say you?"

"Mm-hmm." Engin responded, noncommittal, busy keeping an eye on their visitor. Bjorn had informed him of Kelzryn's nature and intentions beforehand, and Engin agreed with his decision to keep the information to a select group of people. The idea of a dragon walking among them in disguise brought mixed feelings.

On the one hand, dragons were terrifying beings capable of leveling cities and razing armies single-handedly. There had only been one instance in recorded history where a city god repelled a dragon from their domain, and the outcome remained unclear. A troubling thought for Engin to consider.

On the other hand, the dragon had only expressed benevolent sentiments. His presence, so far, had been benign. True, his arrival caused a bit of a stir, but he had comported himself courteously, even politely, and displayed no signs of belligerence or hostility.

"I hope you don't intend to bother the dragon with your antics," Engin warned, turning away from the window. "Leave him be. He's already visited the workshop and met Evelyne."

Roderick feigned outrage at the accusation. "Bother him? Why would I ever? As a trader, I merely wish to establish positive relationships with clients of influence. Who better to befriend than one with an eternity to spare? My personal gain lies not in profit, but in partnership."

"Wealth is your only form of partnership," Engin remarked drily.

"Tsk tsk. Do not belittle money's importance. Wealth may not sustain friendships or cultivate affection, but at least the sting of betrayal leaves a memorable impression." Roderick wagged his finger disapprovingly. "No. Money guarantees convenience and certainty."

A knock on his door interrupted their conversation.

"Looks like they're at your door," Roderick reported as he returned to his seat by the chessboard. He lifted a chess piece—a bishop—and held it poised above its proper square. "Shall I return to winning this game? Unless you'd rather answer the door?"

Engin scoffed and strode across the room. "You've never won a game against me. Now's not the time to start. I'll get the door." He opened the door with a flourish and bowed politely. "Welcome to my humble abode. How may I be of service?" He gestured inside. "Please enter, if you wish."

Bjorn stepped inside, accompanied by the disguised dragon.

"Hope you don't mind the intrusion, Engin. Just giving Kelzryn here a tour around Ebonheim," Bjorn explained. "Kelzryn, meet Engin Meric. He's the town's leader, essentially, although we convene as a council of elders for community matters. I suggest you talk with him, at least once, if you haven't already."

Engin inclined his head. "Greetings. As Bjorn mentioned, I am Engin Meric, Ebonheim's patron. A pleasure to meet you." He studied Kelzryn discretely as he extended his hand, his demeanor polite. Despite knowing the truth behind his guest's appearance, the sheer contrast between his expected visage and Kelzryn's current state lent a surreal aspect to their interaction.

Still, he maintained a congenial façade, endeavoring to match Kelzryn's civility.

Kelzryn clasped his hand, his firm grip cordial. "I am Kelzryn. No need for formalities. Your hospitality honors me."

His demeanor, refined and elegant, betrayed no hint of malice. The fact he even bothered with politeness further convinced Engin of his amicable intents, though he noticed a flicker of hesitation flash briefly through his eyes—quick as lightning—at the mention of Ebonheim. Interesting. Did something related to Ebonheim trouble him?

"The honor is mine," Engin replied courteously. "And none whatsoever. Come in, come in." He moved aside, beckoning his guests forward. "Please sit. Can I offer you refreshments? Water? Tea?"

"I do not require sustenance," Kelzryn demurred. "Though your offer is gracious and appreciated."

"Noted. Bjorn? Refreshments for you?"

"Nah. Not today," Bjorn declined, waving off his offer.

"Suit yourself." Engin took a seat, and his guests followed suit. He gestured towards Roderick, who watched their interactions closely. "And this is Roderick Sedley. He's a merchant with questionable morals who fancies himself an entrepreneur of sorts. A bit of an odd bird, but I suppose we all are, in our own unique ways."

Roderick winced and pretended to clutch a knife to his chest. "You wound me, dear sir," he stated dramatically. "How could you? Betrayal hurts, friend. Deeply. Trust and honor must be maintained for healthy relations, else there would exist nothing but suspicion and intrigue. The world would be an empty, barren place." He splayed his palm over his face and sobbed loudly.

Engin chuckled. "Well said, Roderick."

Kelzryn raised his eyebrow and studied him, seemingly puzzled. "Do you always indulge in theatrical antics?"

"Yes. Roderick loves making a scene," Engin answered for him. "Roderick. Chess." He pointed to the chessboard between them. "I was about to win. Again. And teach you an important lesson."

"Really. Then, by all means. Let's settle this...conversation." Roderick dropped the theatrics and focused on the game before them.

Engin cleared his throat and refocused on their other guest. "So, how has the tour been? What do you think of Ebonheim so far? Hope the folks didn't give you too much grief."

"Everything's fine," Bjorn replied for him. "Some stares and muttering, but that's about it. Nothing worth getting worried about."

Kelzryn nodded slowly, agreeing. "I find Ebonheim...intriguing." His choice of words carried a sense of reserve, yet Engin sensed an undercurrent of genuine fascination lurking beneath his guarded response. "So many differences exist in comparison with what I'm accustomed to. The culture, the people, and even the architecture. Diverse, fascinating..."

"That's Ebonheim," Engin admitted modestly. "A place where refugees of many walks of life congregate. The town is the result of countless struggles, persecution, and discrimination. When everyone faces hardships and difficulty, solidarity results, uniting us against common opposition. We may not be wealthy or prosperous, but we have each other."

"What made you choose the valley and Ebonheim?" Kelzryn questioned, his query carrying genuine interest. "The town is remote and isolated from external influences. It is also vulnerable to predation and attack."

Engin scratched his head, pondering his reply. His explanation would prove...difficult. Kelzryn seemed sensible and receptive to reason, but revealing their circumstances without preparing would inevitably raise questions requiring uncomfortable answers. Questions he didn't care to discuss.

"I'd like to explain, but a long story comes with my answer." Engin shrugged apologetically. "If you're interested, I could share the details. The short version is, that we abandoned our gods and the cities of our birth. Isolation serves our needs, and Ebonheim provided sanctuary from old prejudices and misguided beliefs. That's the short of it. The longer story...not for today."

Kelzryn appeared neither offended nor impatient at his explanation. If anything, he seemed pensive. "Your reasons are yours to disclose. Should you prefer privacy, I will not pry."

"I appreciate your courtesy," Engin accepted his understanding.

"However," Kelzryn continued, "may I ask a question?"

"Sure." Engin nodded agreeably. "What is it?"

"Why did you accept Ebonheim as your patron when your grievances lay with deities previously?" The dragon inquired, his tone mild and detached. "I understand Ebonheim is new to the pantheon, yet why seek another god? Forsaking old beliefs seems...unreasonable."

An understandable inquiry, albeit an awkward one. Engin couldn't fault Kelzryn for asking. But the answer was not something he could afford to divulge, and one glance at Bjorn's equally tense expression affirmed his agreement. Lying outright would probably insult Kelzryn, who would undoubtedly discern the falsehood immediately.

"Many reasons." Engin opted to avoid the matter. "Personal ones. Suffice to say, the short version is simple. We needed a god to protect us and guide our lives. Our previous experiences proved...unfortunate. I can't say why Ebonheim. Only that she arrived and offered herself as our patron, and we accepted. That's...all there is to it. Nothing mysterious to decipher." He ended his explanation with a forced laugh.

Silence permeated the air as Kelzryn considered his answer.

"Forgive me. I do not mean to offend. I understand your reasons are personal," Kelzryn spoke softly, breaking the uneasy quietude. "I sought only to confirm whether your motivations mirror Evelyne's."

Relief flooded him at his polite withdrawal. "Thank you, Kelzryn. I appreciate your tolerance." Engin exhaled slowly, hiding his discomfort with an ingratiating smile. "And while you're here, feel free to wander or stay. Explore the town to your heart's content. I have no objections, as long as you refrain from any undesirable behavior. So, is there anything else you're curious about?"

Before Kelzryn could answer, a Silverguard soldier barged in through the door.

"Bjorn! Trouble! We've spotted a naga, southeast side of the river," the soldier relayed his tidings. "Kaela and Deneve went after it."

"A naga?" Bjorn asked, rising swiftly to his feet. "We've never encountered one in this region. Are you sure it's a naga?"

The soldier nodded emphatically. "Certain. It looked like a woman with snakes for hair and a snake tail below the waist. Has scales and all."

Engin and Bjorn looked at each other. There was only one being in the valley that matched that description.

"Calyxia." Both spoke the name in unison.

"A reasonable assumption," Kelzryn assessed as he rose from his seat, seemingly unsurprised. "Nagas do not inhabit this valley, and the Seraphidae would not venture this far unless the matter warranted urgency. Most likely Calyxia came to check on my whereabouts. She had offered to escort me here, but I left ahead of her. Apologies. It appears the fault lies with me, Bjorn."

Bjorn facepalmed, sighing. "Wonderful. Only a few people here have met her before, and none of the newcomers. At least Serrandyl is there but I don't think she'll help much. I better get over there and prevent things from escalating."

"I shall accompany you," Kelzryn said, hurrying after Bjorn as he took off.

Bjorn took off, and Kelzryn hurried after him.

Engin stared at their backs as they left and rubbed his temple with a tired sigh. "Never a dull moment..."