Lost Mine of Phandelver

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Merimar listened to Calal and looked him over, "That's okay, Calal, I don't mind." Merimar said as they walked towards the barn. She'd heard odd stories, mostly the kind meant to scare people. Merimar was very aware similar stories were told about Half-Orcs. She could only imagine how Calal felt about being on the surface, and she was aware enough to know she was probably not imagining it the way it really was for Calal. "You don't have to apologise, it's alright." said Merimar as she opened the barn door.

'There must be some way to help Calal so that he isn't blinded by the light all the time. Everyone deserves to stand in the sun's rays. Going to have to have a think about it.' thought Merimar as they walked into the barn.
 
After training the barn and a night of rest, Calal awakens to sunlight filtering through the gaps in the ceiling. There's a flutter of movement, a flapping of wings, and a small, horned creature hops down from the rafters and alights next to him, carrying a small, black orb the size of a marble in his hands. He sets it down and something inside it begins to coalesce and swirl with sound like a gathering wind. A voice speaks that only Calal hears.

"My altar ... has been defiled. ... A false god ... is praised. ... Seek the castle. ... Restore my name."

The sound dies down and the swirling inside goes inert. The imp does not react, just watches you curiously.
 
Calal makes a sharp noise, studying the creature carefully. He picks up the orb and studies it for a few long moments before looking back at the creature. "Hello? I am calal. What is your name?"
 
Slowly, dull and weary from the cold of the morning, Vutha awoke -- her two crafted javelins resting near her as were the rest of her weapons just in case they were needed in the night. Her reptilian eyes opened focusing on a small strange creature hovering near Calal. She reached for the newest javelin slowly as she rumbled, "Calal what is that. Yet another pet or an intruder?"
 
Calal takes a step back, reaching out a hand slowly for the imp to land on. "I think...not a threat? I dont think it's a threat." he slowly dips his head forward to look at the Imp. "I believe he is from my...patron." Calal's face is tight with stress as he studies the imp. "Name is Gren." Calal slowly turns to look at Vutha, eyes nervous.
 
Calal does that thing where he suddenly pretends as though he can't hear her, standing and turning away. He grabs his already-packed bag and stalks across the room to Merimar, head dipped as he whispered to the imp in a low voice.
 
Hearing footsteps coming towards her, the cleric put down her Prayer Book for the moment that had spent most of their adventure in her bag. Merimar had her leather armor on, but for the moment it was unbuttoned and draped over a simple white cotton dress that had a golden coloured collar. Seeing who was coming towards her, Merimar grinned, "Good morning Calal, sleep well? Beautiful day isn't it."
 
Calal gives a jerky nod, hands tucked against his sides. "Yes. It is a nice day." He agrees. He shifts, buckling his armor on over his black shirt and pants and pulling his sleeves up to his wrists. "what is the plan today?"
 
Fuska rolled out of his bedroll grumpily and scratched the back of his hairless head. He slapped his leg a few times where it had fallen asleep being pressed up against something hard, but turned towards the voices as he heard them on the other side of the barn. Fuska took a quick swing from his waterskin before speaking up. “Need to sell some stuff. Don’t need big armory” He gestured towards his assortment of weapons that were haphazardly strapped to his pack. He no longer needed the morningstar and warhammer after he found this magical sword, and even though the weight wasn’t too much for him, he didn’t like the clutter. Shrugging, “After that I can do whatever.”

Seeing the imp, Fuska nodded towards it. “What’s with ugly bird?”
 
Watching the drow walk away, Vutha rumbled again in irritation. The lizardfolk collected her things, taking care with the javelins especially, checking the sinew had dried and set properly, the wood hadn't cracked. Approving of it she stood, replying to Fuska's question in a monotone voice, "Calal's newest pet," before moving over to Ioanin and studying the sleeping Triton before nudging him with a foot. "Wake, many things to do. Sleep when done."

She brought out the shortbow, "This is good, but think need better, larger one. Maybe ask ... merchant person if they have. Linene lady?" Looking across the group she continued, "Also have other ... task. Sister Garaele asked Merimar and I to help get a book ... from a spirit she angered." Her lips raised in a snarl, "Dislike messing with dead."
 
At the mention of dead, Merimar chuckled nervously, "Erm, last night while we were checking on Mister Edermath he mentioned there's a problem with undead at Old Owl Well." Merimar said, "He also gave us a rope that can coil itself up, a potion that lets someone resist being poisoned and this cloak" Merimar said, motioning to the cloak she was wearing over the top of her armor.

Realising that Vutha had mentioned the word pet, Merimar's eyes lit up, "Oh, did you find a small bird or something?"
 
Calal sighs, giving a small shake of his head and muttering "Please do not murder me" in elven before pulling the small fey imp out of his pocket. "This is Gren. He's not exactly a bird, but he's...nice, I think?" he shies away from Meri slightly, free arm curled defensively around his torso.
 
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Merimar raised an eyebrow as Calal muttered in Elvish, wondering why on earth he would think she'd want to murder him. Then she saw the small green imp in Calal's grey hand.

The young cleric knelt down in front of Calal before speaking to him in Elvish, knowing it sounded a little more relaxing than Common, "Calal, I'm not about to murder you. Ever. I'm not going to hide it, if I'd seen Gren on his own, I would've thought he was a fiend. But if you trust him, I trust him." Merimar said as she reached into her bag, her cloak flowing behind her as if a small calm breeze was blowing past. Pulling open her ration tin, Merimar pulled out a small green apple and held it in an open palm. "Hey there Gren," Merimar said, "Are you hungry?"
 
Calal tips Gren onto his fingertips so he could get to the apple, giving her a tiny smile. "Thank you, Merimar. I would appreciate not being murdered and I am sure that Gren would, too." gren reaches forward and manages to tug the small apple to himself, though it was a little bigger for him. "Thank you, nice person."
 
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