The last morsel of meat was picked from the bone clean and Nariah sat it down finishing off her tankard and leaning back in her chair with a small smile to the woman across from her.  [b]"A shame, lass."[/b]  She chuckled.  [b]"Some of the best mead in Hieledran, if I do say so, though not as good as the mead in the north.  Must be a different honey they use."[/b]  Then she turned to the lad, [b]"As for me, the note I believe was meant for me father, but I went in his stead.  Old man's rugged as any proud Dunenmer, but with time his bones ache and his hands shiver.  Not even he could've made the long journey from our homelands to the city of Vaele.[/b]  Twas strange, neither of them were the authors of the letter, a letter that spoke of something grim and malevolent, something of...a tower too.  Neither of the likes Nariah had seen nor heard of, even as she made the arduous trek from the snow capped mountains, braving the elements and whatever else the gods threw in her path.  As she sat there, her eyes trailed over to the woman having removed her hood and revealed her face, not to mention the scar running from her brow past her cheek.  Quite the nasty mark it was, but it didn't distract her from the pretty face it tried to mar.  [b]"Wait a second."[/b]  Then she remembered, bringing her armored clad hand to her face.  [b]"Ach!  What a fool I am.  The letter said we'd be meeting this...whoever..at a temple devoted to this goddess Agatha.  I've never even heard of Agatha."[/b]