Arabella's words made Logan freeze, all the more when he saw the look in her eyes. To his surprise, for the first time, since he'd met her, he saw a deep, mournful sorrow darkened her regal and courteous exterior.

She wasn't hiding it from him, though – it was there for him to see. And when he saw it, he decided to lower the barrier between himself and elven cleric.

"I wanted to say this before, Princess..." he said, stammering slightly with nerves. "But you're... a long way from home. Tell me – how exactly does a princess from far across the sea end up here in Faerun?"

Logan knew of Evermeet, the land Arabella said she had come from, and knew it was a long way from the mainlands of the Realms. It lay far west of the Sword Coast, beyond even the Moonshae Isles, in the midst of the Trackless Sea, across which the legendary explorer Balduran, of Baldur's Gate fame, was said to have disappeared on his second voyage.

That was an incredible distance for anyone to travel, let alone a member of the royal family. Why had she come this far?

Arabella managed a slight smile and nodded. "I'll tell you, if you like," she said softly, straightening herself up slightly, though just enough for him to notice. "Pardon me for answering a question with a question, but yesterday you said that you're your father's eldest child?" she asked, clearly just for the sake of clarification.

Logan nodded in response, and Arabella went on to say "Well, I'm the opposite of you in that respect – I'm the youngest of my family's fourteen children. The children of Queen Amlaruil Moonflower of Evermeet and her King Consort, Zaor Moonflower."

Logan was aghast when he heard this. "Fourteen children?!" he exclaimed, unable to contain his astonishment. He suddenly feared his blurting might upset Arabella, but his surprise instead made the princess suddenly brighten up, and a slight giggle escaped her lips.

"Indeed," she said. But as she went on, any happiness expression faded away. "But that was the first of the family I lost," she told him. "Father... he passed away when I was very young – only ten years old. At the hands of an assassin."

In that moment, the two of them seemed to feel the same pain in absolute tandem; it was like Logan could see Arabella's heart sink inside her chest just from the way her head tilted down, her face pallid and her eyes dark with grief. And his heart was doing much the same, falling like a lead weight until it landed hard atop his stomach.

"I'm sorry, Arabella," he told her, wholehearted in his sincerity. The pain he knew she was feeling was one he'd known himself...

Arabella looked to him when he said that. "Thank you. But it was what followed that was far worse," she then went on to explain. "You see, when Father died, all Mother's joy seemed to die with him. Ever since then, she's been a husk of her former self. Before he died, she was loving, doting, and lively... but now..."

A small, shaky breath escaped her lips – that was all the indication Logan needed. He could see right before his eyes the pain that Arabella was in, and in that moment his instincts took over.

Lifting his right hand, he placed it on Arabella's slender shoulder and said "Arabella... I..."

His brain struggled and strained fiercely for something to say other than 'I'm sorry' again, but it didn't feel right to repeat himself. Nor did saying 'My condolences', which was the only synonym he could think of.

However, his searching for words ceased when he felt something moved to grace his skin – something warm as sunshine and smooth as velvet. His gaze refocusing as his mind turned from his own thoughts to the real world, he saw Arabella rest her cheek against the hand he had placed on her shoulder, waves of gentle warmth radiated from her body into his and passing up his arm and through his body to his heart. The scent of her perfume also seemed to float towards him, surrounding him in a gentle, flowery embrace that filled the air about his person.

For a millisecond, Logan thought of pulling away, but the feeling of Arabella's body against his transfixed him, making him feel at once both uncomfortable and utterly at ease. He went from wanting to flee to being rooted on the spot, desiring to be near Arabella... and from the way her hand gently moved to hold his wrist where it was, he couldn't help but wonder if she felt the same about him.

A moment of serenity passed between them before Logan found it within himself to move. Gently and gradually slipping his hand from within Arabella's fingers, the paladin was so relieved that when he found his tongue, the first words that came to mind where already passing his lips.

"I... I hope that helped..."

"It did," Arabella replied. "Thank you, Logan." She smiled at him, the look once again sending shocks through Logan's system. She then said "I'm out here because I want to find something to help my mother. Something to ... I don't know. I just want to see her light up once again like she used to, to smile and be herself..."

Logan nodded his head. "I understand." After a pause, he then added "Though, and I don't mean to offend... but if you want her to have some joy, are you sure leaving her side would be the best idea?"

Thankfully, Arabella didn't seem to take umbrage with what he said. "I was by her side... for over 50 years, I tried to be around her. To comfort her and to lift her spirits as best I could. But nothing I ever did worked – most of the time, she just said she was busy or pushed me away without a word... figuratively, mean." She played with her fingers again, her voice bearing no anger or resentment – only sorrow. "They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, after all..."

Again, Logan felt his body seem to resonate with hers. "Forgive me..." he said, his words and sympathy driven by the fact that he knew that hardship all too well himself.

After all, without his uncle, he would only have had his dead mother and his absentee father, who did much the same as Evermeet's queen. Only Her Majesty's actions came from sadness, not spinelessness.

Despondency lingered on Arabella's face for a moment before, seemingly by her own will, the downheartedness dissipated and she managed to smile again. "Still, it wasn't all bad back at home. Members of the royal household looked after me, educated me, and when I was twenty, I was sent as a ward to Brightbloom Grove, one of the temples of Hanali Celanil."

That made Logan's anger spark briefly. "Your mother forced you to leave your home?" he asked hurriedly.

"Not as such..." Arabella explained in a measured tone. "Members of my mother's High Council offered for me to go there. I didn't truly want to, but I also didn't want to cause a scene or seem improper, so I went along and made the best of it," she said before starting to smile again. "Before long, the priesthood became a second home to me; Mielle, the Grand Cleric, was a mother to all the initiates, myself included, and we found camaraderie, fraternity and sorority in each other."

Logan felt relief assuage his mood. "Well, I'm glad you had that..." he told her.

"Thank you..." Arabella said sweetly as she returned his smile. "During that time, I became a Goldheart myself – a cleric of Hanali." As she spoke, she reached up and played with the golden heart amulet that hung about her slender neck. "I was even able to dabble in some other pastimes - I know a small bit of druidic magic along with what powers my goddess grants me, and on the side, Mielle taught me how to cook, dance, sing and other things she felt a proper lady should know..."

"You can do druid spells?" Logan asked.

To his surprise, Arabella didn't give him a reply – instead, she started glancing around, looking at the stonework of the balcony and the tiles of the rooves. In the distance, Logan heard the sound of something small and light pattering across the tops of the rounded towers, but he figured it was no more than a squirrel or a bird hurrying to take flight.

Not far from where he was painting Finnan's shield, a patch of verdant green moss clung to a corner of the balcony, the forest of green buds each sparkling with drops with fresh dew. As her turquoise eyes settled on the plant, Arabella cupped her hand and extended her arm slowly and gracefully, palm pulsing lightly with a rich emerald glow before her elegant fingers opened and what looked like spores of magic drifted into the air, floating and dancing like dandelion seeds in the wind.

As the glowing specks settled on the moss, brown stems began to rise from within the field of green, sprouting up towards the sky as the last of the purple faded from overhead and gave way to an endless stretch of bright pale blue slashed with wisps of white. Then, once each stem was about a foot long, their tips budded and bloomed almost instantly, the pods of live unfurling into vibrant swirls of red, orange, yellow, purple and pink.

It was like watching a hundred days at onset of spring all in a few seconds, and when it came to end, an entire bouquet of summer flowers had grown atop the moss, swaying gently to the touch and faint, whistling tune of the breeze.

"Which spell was that?" Logan asked as he watched the florescence come to an end.

"Druidcraft," she told him. "I can't Wild Shape like Finnan can, but I can do other such feats of nature." Arabella brushed her fingers lightly across the flower petals as she spoke. "But as I said, I tried to use what I'd learned to impress Mother and make her smile, but it didn't work. Hence why I've come looking for something that will."

Feeling a sense of resolution, Logan bowed his head to her and said "Well, Arabella, let me say that I am deeply sorry for everything that you've been through... and I also appreciate you feeling able to share this with me..."

Arabella grinned at him and curtseyed, holding the skirt of her robe in both hands. "I accept and appreciate your sympathies, Logan. But please, think nothing of it." she said. "I mainly wanted to show you that you're not alone in this. And if you need to talk again, I'm always here."

Logan's heartbeat quickened as she said that, growing so loud that it pounded into his ears. He feared Arabella might hear it, so out of panic, he endeavoured to change the subject:

"Will you be coming with us to the tournament, my lady?" he asked, returning to formal address in the midst of the anxiety running through him.

"Of course!" Arabella said in a high, affirmative tone. "Finnan is going, so I'll need to be there with him... and I want to help however I can," she told him. "I'm afraid I don't have much to offer in terms of physical combat - I am a lady, after all... though I can use a bow and arrows if need be."

"Really?" Logan asked. "You're an archer?"

Arabella's smile turned into a grin. "Darling, I'm an elf. Archery is kind of our whole thing..." she said her eyes alighted with realization and she covered her mouth with her hand, pink-cheeked and giggling with embarrassment. "Oh gosh, I'm sorry! That made me sound so sassy!" she said aloud.

Logan felt a joviality bubble inside him, and he let it out with a laugh. "Don't worry, no offense taken," he replied good-naturedly. He then asked a question that had been bouncing around in his head since he met Arabella. "Have you met any other high elves since your arrival in Faerun?"

"Oh, I've met a few here and there," Arabella replied in full honesty. "Mainly shop vendors and the like. Not all too many, but it was nice to have a reminder of home every now and again.

She then put a finger to her chin, her nail glinting as the sun climbed higher." But there was one who'll always stick out in my mind..."

Logan tilted his head slightly. "How so?"

"Well, it was when I was in Baldur's Gate, before I met Finnan. I was taking a late-night walk through the streets when I was approached by one of my kind," she explained. "And a rather charming one at that. He was well-dressed, with curled silver-white hair and fine clothing laced with golden thread, and was extremely eloquent. The moment he saw me, he started paying me compliments left right and centre, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel flattered..." she told Logan. "But I'd also be lying if I couldn't see that he wanted something from me."

Hearing that made a sensation lock its hard, cold touch around Logan, seizing him with something he couldn't quite explain. It was a feeling that made his instincts stand on end, as if he were about to enter a battle and rush into the fray. As if there was something he wanted to protect from danger, even though around them now, there was no danger at all.

"What did he want?" he asked Arabella, his voice rather stiff as though it made him uncomfortable to ask.

"At first I didn't know..." the elf princess replied. "But then for a half a second as he moved in close to me and started whispering, I saw his eyes gleam red and his teeth... his teeth were sharp and pointed."

Logan's sense of alarm spiked when he heard those words, as they could only mean one thing...

"A vampire?!"

Arabella nodded. "Thankfully, I was able to see him off. I called on my goddess' power, and so sprung forth the Daylight spell, which made him flee into the shadows again." She then added, seeming to notice the concern of Logan's face "Don't worry – he didn't bite me."

Logan raised a hand. "It's alright, you don't need to reassure me," he said calmly. "If he was only a spawn, he can't turn you. And besides, if you were a vampire, I would know already - I can sense undead and other such unholy things, since I'm a paladin."

Him saying that made Arabella's eyes widen. "I wish I could do that..." she remarked. "If I could, I might have acted sooner."

Thinking back on her story, Logan decided to ask "Did this vampire have a name?" If there was a coven in Baldur's Gate, then the Flaming Fist had to know about it as soon as possible.

When he asked that, Arabella looked thoughtful for a moment. "Truth be told, his name keeps slipping my mind. I suppose it got lost in the panic I felt when I saw his fangs..." she said aloud in a slightly joking tone. "I think it was something like Asterin or Asuryan..."

"Asinine!" a voice suddenly said. "That was his name! Asinine!"

Twisting around, Logan heard the pattering of footsteps scrabbling across tiles once again, and Finnan came bounding down from the conical rooftop of the tower above them. Leaping to the balcony before him, leafy clothing flapping and snapping in the wind, he was then followed by another figure – Stalk, who was crawling after Finnan on all fours, talons scraping across the tiles while panting for breath.

The rather amusing sight took Logan completely by surprise. "What are you two doing up here?" he asked, unable to keep himself from smiling.

"Playing tag!" Finnan replied. "And his name was Asinine, Arabella!"

Arabella tousled Finnan's hair soothingly, still smiling even as she rolled her eyes a little. "No, Finnan. It wasn't that..." she said before turning to Logan and saying, "Nevertheless, that's the last I saw of him, since I left Baldur's Gate not long after..."

To Logan's surprise, she then gave a slightly wistful sigh and looked to the horizon as she said "Part of me does wonder what happened to him, though..."

By this point, Stalk had clambered his way down from the roof to the balcony, dropping down onto the stone feet-first. Brushing himself down as he wiped the rooftop debris from his feathers and clothes, the kenku lifted his head and asked "What's this about Baldur's Gate?"

Logan looked at Stalk and said "Arabella was just telling me about a rather hairy experience she had with a vampire in Baldur's Gate."

Him saying that made Stalk's eyes widen and flick in Arabella's direction. "You're one lucky elf, Treacle. I've never faced a bloodsucker myself, but I know they're not to be messed with."

Arabella giggled pleasantly. "'Treacle'?" she asked aloud, bringing a hand to her mouth a little as he laughed.

Stalk smirked. "Been comin' up with nicknames for the members of our motley little crew..." he said. "Haven't settled on many others, but I've decided you're Treacle... cause you're sweet."

"That's very kind of you, Stalk..." Arabella replied with a bow and a warm smile, seeming both flattered and amused by his moniker for her. However, Logan felt a dab of unease when Stalk brought this up.

"What's your nickname for me?" he asked. "Have you decided on one there?"

Stalk met his gaze. "Other than just 'Paladin', not yet. And even that one doesn't work, since we have Romain around now."

At length, Logan nodded. "Alright..." he said. "But I'd advise keeping those nicknames to when we're alone, Stalk. If this is tournament for knights, you're going to be knighted. Not only that, but you'll competing in a tournament before all Milisevre, representing both Romain and all of us as well," he reminded the kenku. "You'll have to act the part – we all will."

Logan briefly thought of Finnan when he said that, wondering how the druid was going to behave at the tournament as well. He didn't want to put too much pressure on the little guy – after all, he liked him, and he was also sure Arabella would help. But even so...

His uncle had always told him it took more than a dubbing ceremony to be a true knight, and more than skill with horse, lance and blade as well. It required courage, integrity, courtesy and self-control – to be the example to all other around you.

And like all his uncle's lessons, Logan had taken that to heart.

Stalk didn't seem all that interested, though. "It's too early in the morning for moral lectures, mate..." he said, folding his scaled arms as he looked into Logan's eyes, his expression one of indifference.

Any tension that was building quickly vanished, however, when Finnan's voice piped up with a "Is this my shield?"

Turning away from Stalk, Logan saw Finnan looking awestruck as he ran both his eyes and his hands over the repaired and partly-painted shield. Thankfully, over the course of Logan's conversation with Arabella, the coats of paint that formed the sky had dried completely.

"It is," Logan said with a smile. "I repaired it, and was midway through painting it when Arabella came upstairs," he told the halfling. "Do you like it?"

"I love it!" was the reply he got, with Finnan grinning from ear to ear and bouncing like a spring lamb – only to suddenly stop as he asked "But why's the mountain all empty?" as he gestured to the bare wood filled the triangular outline of the mountain.

The childlike question made Logan chuckle. "Because I haven't finished it yet." That was all he had time to say before Finnan slammed right into his lower body, throwing his arms around him.

"Thank you!" the halfling declared. "It's making me think of home already..."

Arabella wiped her eyes as her face seemed to radiate joy, and even Stalk was moved.

"D'awww..." the kenku said aloud, his voice changing as he did so. But then it seemed to switch right back to his own sardonic vernacular as he asked Logan "Have you done mine yet, Paladin?"

That made Logan's smile widen, and after giving Finnan enough headpats that he seemed content to release his limpet-like grip, Logan stepped past him and strode to where the halfling's shield was resting.

There, on the floor, was the shield Logan had acquired for Stalk's use... and that he had already painted earlier today, as he revealed when he picked up the aegis and presented it to his feathered compatriot.

"I have indeed, master kenku..." Logan said as he gently placed his finished work in Stalk's hands.

The sigil was simple as it was striking – upon a bone-white background, a raven with feathers of jet sat upon a dark green thorn branch, wings spread and head raised side-on to the sky with its mouth open to let loose a raucous caw. Its one visible eye was the same fiery orange as the rising sun, and as it locked gazes with Stalk, the kenku's snarky demeanour seemed to vanish, replaced by a look of genuine sincerity and awe.

"I'm impressed, paladin." Stalk said, caressing the edges of the shield carefully with his clawed fingers. "Didn't think you'd have the chops to pull this off." Then, after another brief pause, the kenku tried it on his arm and said "Thanks!" in a surprisingly genuine manner.

Logan smiled. "You're welcome," was all he said, not wishing to sound cocky or arrogant by going into detail about what he did to achieve the desired look. Instead, he said "Anyways, I need to get Finnan's sigil finished too. Give me some time, and I'll meet you down in the bailey."

Finnan then looked up at him and asked "What about breakfast?" which made Arabella chuckle before putting her gentle hand on the halfling's head and stroking his hair.

"Don't worry, Finnan. I'll whip up something... just as soon as you agree to have a bath."

Finnan stomped his foot indignantly. "But I did have a bath!" he whined.

"Did you use soap?" Arabella asked.

"... no."

With that, Arabella curtseyed to both Logan and Stalk, gave them a 'See you two later' and put a hand tenderly on a sulky Finnan to guide him downstairs. Logan watched her depart with a fond smile, only for that look to fade when he heard a curt, deep voice with a drawl say to him "Shake your head, boy. Your eyes are stuck."

Stalk had put on the voice of some thuggish-sounding man, and when Logan looked his way, he saw the kenku smirking in amusement. Face red, Logan fixed him with a glare and said, "Watch your tongue, little man."

That only made Stalk's smirk widen. "I'll be watching something, that's for certain..." he replied before slinking off like the world's most brazen tabaxi, heading downstairs the same way Arabella and Finnan had gone.

Logan felt slighted, he admitted... but he had no time to deal with that right now. He had this sigil to finish, and then he had to round up the last member of their party – one he still didn't know what to make of, and didn't even know would be coming to the tournament or not...