Seabury, hometown of Vander Dragonspear, the God of Art and Reptiles, at the Lady of Silver's open-air shrine.
"Leaders come and go, but the people endure."
Stepping down from the carriage, Aaron said to Eleanor and Samir, "The last time I came here, I was nearly a corpse."
Eleanor remembered how she and Asha had found Aaron in the wilderness and brought him, already unconscious, back to the open-air shrine. She could not help feeling a surge of emotion.
Back then, she had simply felt she could not stand by while someone suffered, especially since Aaron was a devout believer in the Lady of Silver. How could she have known that, just a few months later, she would be so tightly bound to him?
Hmm, perhaps that wasn't quite the right way to put it.
At that thought, Eleanor felt a little irritated again. Samir had chattered incessantly throughout the journey; words were the one thing this Warlock never ran short of.
"The last time I came here was the last time." Through their conversations over the past two days, Samir had learned a few things about Aaron. After cracking that lame joke, he shrugged and said casually, "The blood of the Dragonspike family runs in my veins. Last time, the Nameless Bard-that is, Vander Dragonspear, the God of Art and Reptiles-brought me here and held my initiation into the Harpers."
Aaron nodded.
Over the past two days, he had learned of Vander Dragonspear's great deeds from Samir.
Vander Dragonspear had once been a mortal, one of the founders of the Harpers, and a great Bard. He was a legendary Bard, an extraordinarily rare existence in the Realms, and his alignment was chaotic neutral with a leaning toward good.
However, Vander Dragonspear had been far too arrogant. He held an