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The First Night in Waterdeep (Rian)

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Rian had never been alone before.

He heard the bunk room door close behind him and felt the echo of it in his back as the candlelight settled. While the rattle of the wooden walls subsided, the thump pushed through his chest and into his heart with resounding finality.

And then it passed, like everything else in this whirlwind of a day, leaving the empty hole gnawing at his insides. This morning he'd gotten up and gone about his routine as carelessly as ever, yet hardly twelve hours later here he was: in Waterdeep having joined an upstart order of would-be heroes trying to thwart an unknown power from killing people across all Faerun.

And Davin was dead.

Usually by this hour he'd hear his brother dumping his gear at the front of their small apartment--followed shortly by the shouting of Miss Tylla--their landlady--from the floor above: "Don't you bang up my house, boy! I'll switch your arse! I don't care if you’re a guard!"

Rian closed his eyes and tried to imagine Davin chuckling as he would walk to the bedroom, but all he could hear in his mind was the screaming.

The screaming and the crackling of the rift.

Rian reached up and wiped snot and tears from his face--he didn't even realize he'd been crying.

"I'll tell all the girls you're a crier," Davin would say.

But now he couldn't. Davin would never say anything ever again.

Because of Father Ibor and that stupid, damned rift.

Rian shouted it at the top of his lungs and slung his pack at the floor by his bed. He couldn't even hear the crashing of the chain armor over the thudding in his head.

If only I'd been faster. Rian cursed at himself for being so scrawny. I could've saved you. I should've saved you--

"You haven't eaten."

Rian spun around and saw the sharp featured, black-haired woman who'd welcomed him to the bunkhouse. Even in the dim light of candles her pale features were clear: her expression still hadn't changed from the stark disdain that he felt from her when he arrived. 

"I, um… yeah." Rian shrugged. He was hungry, but he couldn't imagine eating. Not after what hap--

"Food helps," she said with a curt nod. "Doesn't make it go away. But it helps."

"How do you…" Rian knew the answer already though. "You lost someone."

She didn't respond, but he could feel the answer. "Come on," she said as she stepped back from the door. As the light flickered over her he could see the nicks and worn gashes in her leather armor and breastplate. "Anger can be useful,” she explained. “But not hunger."

"I, um, what was your--"

"Sister Correa," she said without blinking.

"Right." Rian started turning to his gear. “I, um, let me--"

"It will be there when you get back."

The sister's voice jolted him. It struck a nerve somewhere deep down. He looked at her trying to make sense of it. Perhaps it wasn’t disdain in her aura, but compassion. Rian shook his head trying to break the feeling. I’ve got to be stronger, he thought.

Correa's expression softened slightly, and she held her gloved hand towards the hallway. "You're not alone. You will never be alone. Come. Join us." Despite the empathy he now sensed, he clearly understood that she wasn’t asking.

And there was that nerve again. It's like Rian’s mother was reaching out of his memory and telling him to rest because everything would be alright. He’d never relied on anyone but Davin since their parents died**, yet somehow this woman was earning his trust with just her voice.

"Alright," he said at last, sighing out his frustration. Rian dropped the last of his effects on the bed, grabbed Davin's old badge, and stuffed it in his pocket. Then he slowly trudged to the door. "Thanks," he said hesitatingly, pausing in front of her. "I, um…"

Then he felt Sister Correa's expression turn sharp again. The compassion was gone, replaced by duty and obligation.

"Right," he said quickly, pursing his lips and nodding. "Food." He entered the corridor and turned for the mead hall.

Sister Correa glanced into the empty room and frowned sadly. Then she closed the door and followed yet another lost soul who'd been ripped out of a peaceful life and forced into this new war against unknown forces of darkness.

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7 hours ago, frontboard said:

All I hear is Fey's voice in my head when reading the dialogue for Sister Correa. But Rian's is someone else's voice.

She's a character who I'd love to have make more appearances in sessions. The inspiration for her character was a big part of a private campaign we did a while back, that story became kind of the progenitor storyline for what evolved into the Mortal Guardians campaign!

Correa is fierce and determined and would do anything to protect other MGs. (So, if you ever killed Rian don't let her know! 🤣)

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5 hours ago, Scruffy said:

well about that. If Rian just disappears in the middle of the night. Dont look at Saru and I. WE HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT!! Not my fault Rian doesnt keep better track of his house key.  


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