"Aaron, ignore him. This could be a trap!"
Eleanor was the first to object. Miss Cleric had already secretly gripped the Tears of Selûne warhammer beneath her robes. The fierce light of the Maiden of the Moon's dark moon flickered across the divine artifact's surface.
Daemon Prince Annomyn watched the Iron Warrior. He could sense a shattered spirit much like his own inside that hunk of iron.
Barrel's opinion was the exact opposite of Eleanor's. Instead, the Sun Elf Mage whispered to Aaron, "Your Excellency, why not see what this fellow wants? Don't worry. Baldur's Gate has more than a dozen temples and dozens of faiths. Neither the City Council nor the Baldurian Patricians would stand by and let an envoy from the Kingdom of Cormyr come to harm at Wyrm's Crossing."
"Takkus has been fighting the Skaven Clanrats lately. Little brother, I think dealing with the rat infestation should be our priority." Nastya was also interested in Takkus's request for a meeting. "Why not hear what he has to say?"
"Don't worry, little brother. If he tries anything, I'll blow up Wyrm's Crossing with a forbidden spell!" The young lady waved her fist.
"It's fine." Aaron casually told the Iron Warrior, "Lead the way."
The interior of Wyrm's Crossing had the typical structure of a massive stone fortress, packed with defensive machinery, enormous siege ballistae, and protective magic arrays. The dining hall was full of Flaming Fist Guards eating lunch. Some recognized Aaron and greeted him, while faint snores drifted from the Flaming Fist barracks nearby.
As they passed the warehouse entrance, Aaron and the others noticed a bureaucrat reproaching a young woman dressed as a Baldurian Patrician. "Please, Miss Catfish, this is the last time. Stop coming here! The supplies the citizens donated to the refugees aren't your