The sound of a cantrip being cast indoors preceded a bright silvery light glowing from the windows, illuminating the edges of the woods beyond even as it cast deep, shifting shadows.

Shadowheart appeared from the door of her study, Selûne's Spear of Night glowing from a light spell in her hand. Her hazel green eyes took in the situation quickly, her expression focused, serious, calculating. "Set him down on the front steps, I'm sure I can fix this."

She'd been looking forward to a peaceful night. A walk, maybe a swim (she still needed the practice), and then hopefully a dreamless sleep. It seemed all of that would have to wait. Once the priest was sat down on the step, Shadowheart propped her spear against the wall to have the light she needed to examine him. Beneath the left arm of his white robes she found a short, curved dagger, embedded in his side.

"How far did you walk with this?" she asked. It was sunk in deep, lucky not to have hit anything vital.

"I don't know," he admitted, breathless. "More than a mile, I think. You... you are Shadowheart, yes. The cleric? Can you heal me?"

She wasn't surprised the man knew who she was, though she wasn't immediately sure [i]how[/i]. She'd actively avoided building a reputation in this area. "I am, and I can. Hold still, this will be more than a little unpleasant." She planted a hand against his shoulder to steady him, carefully taking the dagger's hilt and pulling. It caught on something, and she realized the blade was serrated, designed to inflict even more damage as it was withdrawn.

There was nothing to do but pull harder, unfortunately. The blade ripped free from the priest's side, causing him to cry out in pain, and spurting an unfortunate streak of crimson onto Shadowheart's arm and robes. She paid it no mind, setting the dagger aside and calling on the Moonmaiden's aid. Her hands lit with a blue-white glow, which she pressed to the open wound. [i]"Te curo."[/i] The incantation sent a strong surge of healing magic into the priest's body, quickly sealing the wound and giving him much of his strength back. He sighed in relief.

"You were smart not to remove it yourself," she noted. "You'd have bled out long before you reached us. What happened? Where did you..." She trailed off, noticing the make of the dagger on the step for the first time. The handle was wrapped in a deep purple cloth, the hilt inlaid with an obsidian stone, black as darkest night.

"My name is Sef. Sharrans attacked me on the road not far from here. I was able to escape with the help of a Guardian of Faith scroll, but not before I was wounded. I am sorry, but they may have been able to follow my trail here."

"Bleeding as you were, I'm guessing it's a pretty clear trail." Shadowheart sighed, her heart sinking. If the Sharrans found this place, she and Nuvyen would either need to go to great lengths to defend it, or pack up and leave again. It simply never ended with these people. "Were you sent to find us?"

He nodded. "Yes. By the temple in Baldur's Gate. High Cleric Isobel needs you and Nuvyen to return. Here, I have a letter..." He reached into his robes and pulled it free, though Shadowheart could see that it was unfortunately stained with blood by the priest's wound. She took a look, finding it to indeed be written in Isobel's hand. She was one of the few people Shadowheart had kept correspondence with, one of the few that would know how to find her. There wasn't much detail in the letter, but she knew Isobel wouldn't drag her back to the city unless something urgent was happening. Sharran assassins intercepting the messenger gave weight to that, too.

She handed the letter up to Nuvyen. "What do you think?"