Erastus 1, 4712 Sandpoint

The room was dim, and the oil lamps flickered softly, casting dancing shadows across the wall. A small fire was in the grate, lit out of habit rather than for any need of warmth, and bathed everything with a healthy orange glow. Qatana had been staring out the open window, into the darkness at the bobbing lights from the ships moored in the harbour, but turned now back to Shalelu with her brows furrowed in thought.

“Thank you for making time to speak with me. You are always so busy, and I have had little chance to spend with you since leaving for Magnimar to study,” Qatana started, but then paused, confused by the emotions that plagued her, and wanting to get the words just right. “This room is lovely, does Ameiko always keep it for you?” she dithered.

“Ameiko always has a room for me, but not always this one, and not always in the Rusty Dragon,” said the elf, “but I do not think you asked to see me in order to compliment my lodgings.”

“Um, yeah,” Qatana stammered, and then stumbled on, “I do not think I’ve either shown or said how grateful I am for all that you have done for me. I don’t know where I’d be if it were not for you.” Here she suddenly stopped again and frowned, remembering full well the dismal life that would have been hers had it not been for Shalelu. “I mean, thank you… really thank you for everything. I had planned on leaving the region before the whole deal with Ameiko’s family was discovered, but I wanted you to know that if you had needed me, for anything, you had only to ask and I would have come back as swiftly as possible… by any means possible. But now, well I cannot say just how much getting to travel with you again means to me.”

She stared at the two goblets sitting on the little side table, dregs of port settled at the bottom of each. “I wonder if Ameiko has these custom made, or if she just picks them up from the local mercantile?”