By Jaap-Peter Hazelhoff
Chapter 22 - Seeking Wisdom
Berdusk, 1371 DR, Eleint, 9th day, just past early breakfast
Calathra has said her goodbyes, and as the others leave to ride to the site where Ditalidas was ambushed, Grim and Druth finish their breakfast in the private room at the Running Stag.
Druth stands up and brushes a few breadcrumbs from his clothes. “I’m going the Temple of Kelemvor, Portia is researching information on the Velsharans. Going over old tomes and scrolls is more in my field of expertise. I will help her with the research. If you, or anyone else in the group needs me, I will probably be there.“
“Sweet water and light laughter my friend. Till we meet again.“ With these parting words, Druth walks out the room.
After a nice walk through the cold morning air, Druth arrives at the Crystal Mansion on Steelspur Way. From the outside the building does not appear to be a temple to the god of the dead. Except for the drapes with Kelemvor’s symbol hanging left and right from the main entrance, there is little to indicate the true nature of the building.
A young man at the entrance welcomes Druth “Fair Morning saer. How can the temple be of service to you?“
“Fair morning to you too, my good man.“ Druth greets the young man politely. “I would like to study some of the Temples records with the priests’ and your Lord’s permission.“
“Please enter and have a seat in the antechamber to your left.“ The young man opens the leftmost door and indicates a room at the left of the main hall. “There will be someone there shortly to speak to you about your request.“
Nodding his head politely in the human custom, Druth proceeds and walks into the temple. Being a converted mansion, the temple still has relics and reminders of the former occupants. The mementos have been subtly transferred into symbols of passing into the afterlife or other items associated with the clergy of Kelemvor.
Druth enters the room indicated by the young acolyte at the door and waits in the antechamber. The chamber is sparsely decorated and radiates serenity, enhanced by the marble used in the floor, the benches and the two columns supporting the ceiling and floors above. After a while an elderly lady steps into the room, she is slightly bend over with age and leans on an old gnarled stick. Her faded gray cloak and tattered black-and-white robe seem out of place in this house of worship. “‘Quel amrun, hama sinome Hodoer.“ (transl. Good morning, have a seat wise one) The old crone greets Druth in his native tongue.
“Diola lle Hodo-Ianter. (transl. Thank you old wise one) You speak the elven language very well.“ Druth crosses his arms in elven greeting.
“Thanks you, I haven’t spoken the Ar’Tel’Quessaer dialect it in quite a while.“ The old crone replies and seats her self on a bench near Druth. “I understand you seek to research the temple’s records. To what purpose may I ask?“
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