Callum overlooked the nearly finished construction of the temple, trying to find the best name for the pseudo citadel. Wasn't that what one did after building a temple? Corvix had the Temple of Honor, which made sense given it was the domain of the Platinum Dragon. Tormtar were different, though. The Loyal Fury demanded no such honors. No lavish devotions. Torm honored action and righteousness. This building was nothing more than a collection of stones neatly laid to form something that served as a home, place of worship, and training ground for the faithful, but it was still built to achieve Torm's will. A watchful sentry in the Sword Mountains north of the City of Splendors. A place where he could answer any call that might come from those he loved and cared for in Waterdeep.   "No training this morning?" Tauriel posed, making her way to his side on the balcony overlooking the courtyard where several disciples practiced their combat arts.   He turned and nodded to her. "No, just earlier than usual. I awoke before sunrise to pray and refine my techniques." He clenched and unclenched his fist, shaking away the residual ache where his left pinky finger used to be. "A more meditative day of martial practice."   His colleague grinned. "Awaiting the weekly courier?"   "Always," he said with a laugh. Tauriel knew him too well already. "Just hoping I'll hear from her."   The Eladrin bobbed her head in understanding. "She'll come around, Callum. I know the absence hurts, but her path isn't yours. Neither is her timing."   "Can't argue that. I was away for far longer than a few months during her younger years. I guess I have this coming."   "And she knows that. Trust me, she's well aware of what she's doing, and she knows what it's doing to you, but she won't make you suffer needlessly."   He turned back to her. "You're sure?"   "I was her age once, and I was too much like my father to admit the similarities. But I loved him dearly, just as Zora loves you. She's just making you miss her."   Now he laughed. "It's working."   "Good," the dragon knight approved. "She'll be glad to hear it when she visits."   "Oh? You plan on befriending my daughter the thief? Black Viper of the Zhentarim?"   Now she rolled her eyes, maintaining her smile as she shook her head. "She's your daughter. That's enough. You know I don't approve of her aspirations any more than I approve of the company you both keep. I still wish you'd see sense and ally with the Gauntlet. I think you'd find them far more aligned with our interests."   "I know," he conceded, "but I have friends among the Zhentarim. Friends who have stood by me loyally who I won't abandon just because we don't ascribe to all of the same values. Besides, I still think the organization can be redeemed with the right direction."   Tauriel's gaze narrowed. "I'm curious by what metric you're going to measure that 'direction.' There are those who would take advantage of your compassion."   He nodded, not arguing the point. "Agreed. But everyone deserves a second chance. I know better than most."   The Eladrin nodded with him. "You're still contemplating the events of the Cassalanter estate?"   He rose from the railing of the balcony, beckoning her to walk with him as he made his way lower in the temple to the main chapel. "I think I always will. I'm honored Torm would find the faith in the me to restore even a fraction of my former station. And the timing...the timing couldn't have been better. But..." He held his arms open. "Look at me, Tauriel. I'll always remain marked by Hell in some way. That war isn't over. Both within and without."   She weighed his words, considering them before she responded as they stood before the altar. "Callum, in the last few months, it's safe to say we've become friends, yes?"   A nod. "Glad to hear you say so."   "Shut up. I'm trying to be honest with you. And speaking honestly, if you truly believe there's a greater war that must yet be fought, you can't fight it here. Not like this. Training in combat, hours in prayer, the construction of this temple...All worthy pursuits, but not worthy of what you've become. You can't fear yourself anymore. Not if you're going to contend with the likes of Bolas, the Lord of Blades, and whatever this Atropos abomination is."   Another nod, Callum fully aware he couldn't argue that point either. "You're right."   "I know I am. And yet...?"   "And yet," he followed her lead. "I just wish I was a better father through this. I find myself warring between the being I once was and the man I'd hope to be for her, and fearful that I'll never achieve the latter for Zora."   Tauriel shook her head, concealing her grin as she turned away from her fellow Tormtar. "You already have, Callum. Just keep doing what you're doing, but now the time for speaking as your friend is over. Speaking as your superior, the temple will be finished by the end of the week, and you are needed in the greater world. Start by going to Angus. He and Corvix have overseen the safety of the farmers and their harvest surrounding Waterdeep. Apparently it's been a most fruitful year. The gnolls will be aware of it along with whatever bandits are waiting. They should know the Hellwalker stands with Bahamut's Horns."   The paladin smiled through the sigh that escaped him. "An appropriate title for him. Where did mine come from though?"   Tauriel's stoic expression met his eyes, no hint of frivolity in her tone as she answered as the superior she'd declared herself to be. "From the truth of who you are. Let the world know you've walked through Hell, fought it, and won. Let evil know and fear what it's created. One just as fierce of any of their own, but one who stands with the light."   Callum regarded the champion of both Bahamut and Torm, knowing her words were charged with more than authority, but with divine providence. Their gods were speaking through her now. He'd do well to listen.   "This will always be your home," she concluded. "I'll guard it with my life when you're away. But when the temple is complete, you are to leave. Your mission lies out there."   A nod, the symbol of the triad, and a bow to his friend, superior, and fellow faithful. "Ours is the Fury."   She smiled once again. "Damn right."