J’afrock and Caelynn were inspecting the remains of both the naga and the iron sentinel they had just defeated, kicking over bones and scraps of metal to see if there was anything of value. Griften stood off to the side, hands folded within the sleeves of his robes, recovering his mental strength. Tanamier was ostensibly investigating the pool of water the naga had emerged from as well as the furnaces that heated the room, but he kept one eye on the young psion.
It did not go unnoticed.
I hate it when he gives me that suspicious look, thought Griften. Then again, he gives everyone that same look…but still, I don’t need to be a mind-reader to know why, he’s…
“Someone’s done their training since we last met,” called out J’afrock as he kicked a now mundane helm to the corner. He looked at Griften with a mixture of surprise and pride. “The power sits well on you, bhaklat,” he said, using the orc term for comrade-in-arms.
Caelynn looked up at this moment as well, a wry expression crossing his beautiful eladrin features. “Certainly more powerful than I remember you last, Brother Griften. I cannot recall you tossing our foes about with such ease.”
“Or blowing them up from the inside!” Another grin from J’afrock.
Aware of Tanamier‘s gaze, Griften simply replied “We have all been through our trials, friends. They either kill us or make us stronger. And since I am here…” he trailed off with a grin.
“I suppose I shall have to eradicate the memory of you flailing about, trying to float out of the aboleth city; it seems somewhat passe now,” said Caelynn with his trademark snobbery, sheathing his blade and obviously giving up on recovering anything of value from the naga bones.
“Aye, Brother Griften is a force to be reckoned with now! Let all who oppose us fear his unseen power!” added J’afrock with a hardy clap on the monk’s shoulder. He turned his attention to the large gate that blocked their way. Caelynn fell in with the half-orc, and Griften moved to join him when he could resist no longer.
He turned to face Tanamier. “Is all well, my friend?”
Tanamier studied the young monk. “You are different, Griften. More powerful certainly, but there’s something else as well. Don’t think for a moment I don’t see it.”
“Tanamier, I…”
I what? Have been through more than you can imagine? Have killed with my thoughts and hands those who look exactly like those whom I love most? Might be the centre of a prophecy that may mean the permanent change of the world as we know it?
“…you can trust me, Tanamier. You know you can.”
Tanamier edged forward, his eyes locking with Griften‘s. “Oh, I know I can. But what am I trusting? Do you see what I mean? What are you now?”
Griften lowered his gaze. “We’ll talk, I promise. We need to focus on Tiemel and Bajastelle right now.”
“I know. But you’re right, Brother Griften: We will talk. Now, let’s see if J’afrock can rip that gate off…”
