Mayor Hilesia blinked uncertainly at Chance’s words, thrown by them. “You are here to help?”
Chance smiled, trying to set her at ease. “That is the plan, yes. I had other ideas when I first set out to come here, but after hearing about what has been going on, they changed.”
Hilesia frowned. “You are from Arhad Zhur?”
“No, I come from Azval Stalvaq. I am the Guardian there.”
“The Druidic site?’ Hilesia said. “But I thought that none were there anymore.”
“There is now,” Chance told her. “I have taken up residence there, now that the dragon is gone.”
She nodded at that. “Yes, we had heard, which was cause for some celebration. The heroes who brought it down passed through here on the way back to wherever it was that they had come from, spending coin like it was going out of fashion, which was more harm than help.”
Chance scratched at his beard for a moment. “They just went on their way despite your bandit problem?”
“It was beneath them, they said,” she replied sourly. “Not worth their time and effort. Didn’t stop them drinking and carousing though.”
A low growl came from Shags at that and Hilesia looked down at him. “A wolf,” she said. “And a gnoll and a kobold. It is strange company that you keep, druid.”
He smiled faintly at that. “I am not exactly a normal person.”
“No, and double strange for offering to help. Druids are not exactly known for being helpful either. How come you are?”
“For old mistakes,” he told her. “For doing the right thing for once. The bandits that infested the Hills of Arshatar are no more,” he added.
Her eyes widened. “They are dead?”
“I have dealt with them,” he told her. “They are not dead, but nor are they an issue any longer.” He gestured to the cart and horses they had brought with them. “We recovered all that had been stolen and had hoped to return it to the rightful owners. We just need to locate them, somehow.”
“You returned it all?” Hilesia asked, sounding shocked.
“As much as we could find, yes. We have no idea who it belongs to though, and so could use some help with that.”
“Yes, I imagine you would. People are a bit desperate right now, and trying to find the rightful owners may not be easy.” She paused and Chance could see a thought come to her. “Actually, there is someone who might be able to help out with that. A travelling paladin recently arrived in town, and unlike the previous heroes, she is helping out as best as she can. If anyone could oversee the return of the goods to the rightful owners, she could.”
A paladin? Chance sent to Shags, questioning the wolf. The word had no meaning to him.
They are holy warriors, the wolf replied. Known for being honourable, trustworthy and being incapable of lying, cheating or stealing. Usually.
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Usually?
It all depends on what god they follow, but paladins of the less than reputable gods tend not to advertise the fact that they follow them.
Chance nodded towards Hilesia. “That all sounds reasonable.”
“I shall let the good sister know,“ Hilesia responded. “She is rather busy but that never seems to stop her. She seems driven by the suffering of others, and there is plenty of that to go around.”
“So I have seen,” Chance observed, “Which is also why we are going to help out. My motives might not be as pure as hers are, though.”
“Go on, druid,” Hilesia said in a more neutral tone.
“I had come here to trade,” Chance told her. “There are some commodities, such as bread and cheese, that the small community that lives at Azval Stalvaq has no access to. I had planned on purchasing them here, but if it is all as dire as you say, then it might not be possible quite yet. If I help you out, it solves your problems and opens the way to trade.”
“It may not be quite as bad as we make it out to be,” Hilesia admitted, “But with winter approaching, concerns are growing.”
Chance nodded. “That is understandable. You have a responsibility to your people.” He glanced upwards, taking in the slowly darkening sky. “Perhaps we can talk more in the morning, and can discuss in what ways that we can best be of assistance For now, though, I need to arrange for a safe place for the stolen goods to be stored, and a place where we can sleep for the night.”
“That we might be able to manage,” Hilesia told him. “If you will come with me, we will see what we can do.” Hilesia started out across the town square. The numbers in it were starting to thin out as the evening approached, but there were still quite a few there, and many called out to the mayor as she walked among them. Progress was slowed as she responded to each greeting in kind, but in time they were able to leave the square and head along a side street that led from it. A short distance along it they came to another stone building, this one stout and solid but not made by dwarven hands. It was serviceable but without the grandeur of the dwarven built ones. At the entrance to it, a pair of heavy wooden doors, a woman stood, dark of hair and eye and skin. Chance had seen a few others like her among the crowds of the town. The whole place had a number of peoples and cultures that he had seen, with different styles of hair and clothing and looks. On reflection, it seemed understandable that it was so, as the region had been a refuge for those fleeing troubles elsewhere according to Theras.
When they reached her, Chance was surprised to see that the woman was young, probably his age, his real age, or a year or two older at most. Her eyes, though, looked older and there was a touch of tiredness in them. She wore a mail shirt, with a sword at her side. A grey surcoat was over the mail shirt, one that bore a golden sun over the heart.
“Sister Elmesu,” the mayor greeted the young woman.
Elmesu touched a hand to her heart and inclined her head in response. “Mayor Hilesia. How may I be of assistance?”
“There are a couple of matters that I hoped you could help us with. These gentlemen have recovered some stolen goods from the bandits that have long plagued us that need to be returned to their rightful owners. As you are noted as a paragon of honesty and can perceive the truth in men’s hearts better than most, I had hoped that you might oversee finding the owners.”
“Of course Mayor Hilesia. It would be an honour to help. And the other matter that you wished aid with?”
“These gentlemen here,” Hilesia said, motioning to Chance and his friends, “Are the ones who recovered the goods. I had hoped that we could store the goods in your compound while their owners are found, and that you could find room for these gentlemen to stay the night as well.”
Elmesu nodded. “It is a tight squeeze with those we are already housing, but if it is just for a night or two we can manage.” She smiled as she studied the group before her. “And knowing the attitudes of many towards outsiders, especially ones that differ so much, they might have difficulties finding beds anywhere else. All are welcome here, though, even gnolls and kobolds.”
“I thought you might see it that way,” Hilesia replied. “This is Chance, the Druidic Guardian of Azval Stalvaq.”
The paladin gave Chance a puzzled look, brows furrowed slightly as she looked more intently at him. “Chance is not a name one normally associates with dwarves,” she noted.
“It was the one I was born with.”
Elmesu gave a bit of a shrug at that. “We can’t help the names we are given. Well, come in, all of you, and we shall try and find you places for the night.”