The Return to Fort Merula

Only by the Grace of the Mother of Mercy and the Justice of Ator did we make it back to Fort Merula. Hell-spawned nightmares of lethal frog-beasts being ridden by invincible goblins made sleep fitful and elusive. But finally we were back to whence everything started...Fort Merula. We were most shabbily treated, and all but held to ransom at the gates - apparently the Doge himself had been assassinated. This had not made the already brusque and surly town guard any more gentle in their manners. I unloaded my burden of books on the wizened official quizzing us, and he claimed he would see they made it to Father Decimus. I made no mention of the riches the others carried, hoping my show of indignation, and many pounds of religious tomes would tamp down any hopes of ill gotten gains to be taken from my stout companions.
 
Securing a space at the Inn (for two weeks, with a bit of the silver from my share of our...gains, I made myself presentable and reported to the church. I had to break the sad news of the apparent loss of young Tarn and his followers - but also the joy of the eventual triumph of Nayea, Maya and Ator over the horrid fish god of the Nar. I, of course, handed over a goodly portion of the remaining silver and gold I had been given...and it was readily taken and locked away. It saddened me to see quick attention (and strong boxes and locked rooms) being paid to silver and gold - as if they were relics of earlier virtue. But the killing of the Doge had men's minds fixed on this world, and earthly concerns. I had no word of the tomes I had turned over, other than an assurance they would make their way to the church.
 
Keeping a bag of cupric for my few needs at the Inn, I was determined to do what I could to spread the mercy of Maya on this downtrodden place. I observed the few mendicants allowed to beg for alms, tended to gather near a somewhat slovenly kept house, near the edge of the market area. Strangely enough, it appeared to be the domicile of a hulking, one-eyed half-orc. Putting aside my initial wave of suspicion, I decided to speak to the fellow. Ashnog, the half-orc, related to me that he had done what he could to help these pitiful beggars - but was at his wits end. Perhaps this was a fitting need that Maya had steered me toward? I agreed to return this evening to render what help I could.
 
I had hoped to bring along some of my companions, they all had skills or abilities that would be valued. In retrospect, it would have been much better to wait for them. However, Zhuge was determining if he would even remain here, or return home. Riven had never been seen since walking off from the temple, and I could not find Alex or Keg-ho. The brave wolf was not visible anywhere either. Perhaps the town was too confining for Keg-ho and the valorous canine.
 
I reached the slovenly house at sunset. Knocking, I was readily admitted by one of the alms-seekers I had seen earlier. I asked after Ashnog, and was directed to the next room to see him seated at a table. He stood and greeted me, and I blessed him in Maya's name. We discussed the poor situation here, in this house, and in Fort Merula. Had Ashnog not sought the aid of the Church here? An orcish snort of contempt was all I got in return. I mentioned that I still retained some coins of silver and gold, and might be able to buy in food and clothing to help... when suddenly a burlap sack was pulled down over my head from behind. I reached for my purse when my arm was wrenched away with a fearful crack. Crying aloud for Maya's aid, I was able to push backward and stagger back to the doorway of the room. My good arm was enough to get the sack off my head as I bolted from the house, limned with Maya's Light.
 
Back to the Inn, where I made my way to my room and appealed once more to The Mother of Mercy, to heal my arm, which was clearly broken. Bathed in her radiant mercy, the bones knit...but a scar where the break had occurred was still there. A fitting reminder of how I had erred, and one I shall leave be. Exhausted though I was, I went to report this to the night watch. I was met with disinterest and disdain. I returned to the Inn and vowed to take this up again in the morning...
 
I arose early and made my devotions. I broke my fast in the common room and went to the Town Guard. After my explanation, two bored looking men-at-arms accompanied me to the house. It was deserted - no mendicants outside, no half-orcs or waylayers inside. After a short discussion, the guards agreed to ask at the gate if such persons as I described had passed. And, to my dismay, they had. "First thing this morning, horse cart with a half orc and 4 humans rolled out...headed south. Seemed to be in good spirits, they did."
 
I can only hope that Ator will avenge his wife's servant by having them run into the giant f...f...frogs of the swamps.