Daytime doubts

As an elf, Talathel doesn't sleep. He meditates. To outside observers, it may look like sleep, but it most certainly is not. The meditation is away for the elf to reconnect with his surroundings, and after these sessions Talathel was usually clear headed and ready for whatever tasks lay ahead of him.

Today was different. He opened his eyes and noted that the park was still busy. Not surprising, he thought. This is probably the safest place in the city. He looked over at Darvin, who was unsurprisingly still asleep. Probably dreaming of capturing his first ship or finding his first real loot...mighty pirate. Talathel chuckled to himself. The half-elf was entertaining at times.

The Old Order outcast ventured around the park. He made small talk with the people of Balder's Gate. Most said the same thing. There was an earthquake, there was chaos in the city. With the city's security forces unorganized, many feared for their safety. The crime lords of the city were flexing their muscle.

No one did have an answer to why the rum was so expensive. Or delicious for that matter. Some gave the elf a quizzical look when he asked about the rum. Talathel chalked these people up to those who did not know their rum. He decided that that more and more people had bland tastes in rum as he worked his way through his flask.

Every now and again he would mention Marty, the halfling that promised 20 gold for getting him bodies. At the mention of the name, any who he asked would quickly end the conversations. No one would give Talathel a straight answer. No one really knew what Marty did, but they knew it was outside the realm of the law.

Would working for Marty force me to walk a chaotic path? If I am to spread the message of The Old Order and get back within its graces, I must not become chaotic. I must be lawful. But, perhaps these creatures mean to harm innocent citizens of Balder's Gate. But then again, little seems lawful about meeting a rowboat past the Witching Hour and telling them we arrived on the Esperada. 

Unsatisfied with his answers, Talathel made his way back towards Darvin. The half-elf was thrusting his arms about, as if waging a pirate battle in his sleep.

"We have much to discuss, my half-elf friend. But, I'll let you finish capturing that first ship...and the heart of that knife wielding wench first."