And a few minutes later, Rollfar Lightpurse storms back in, this time carrying an adventurer's pack, complete with weapons strapped to its sides, which she plunks down on Keldar's table.
"I'm not finished, Keldar," she says. "I sold nearly everything I own, I even sold Spelding Row! I bought a crossbow, and - "
"It's a very nice one," says Keldar. "Darkwood?"
"Yes, darkwood! And a darkwood spear."
"Who uses a spear!?" Keldar asks.
"Me, in about two seconds, if you don't shut up," Rollfar says. For the first time, she looks uncomfortable. "One evening," she continues, in a lower voice, "a few days after you left, I was staring into the fire. I pictured, far out on the lake, two ships, Lake Jane and another. There were dead bodies in shrouds and scorch marks on the other's deck. It gave me a bad feeling."
"But that happened, Rolli," says Keldar. She shivers ever so slightly. He sings in a clear tenor: "A hundred miles from Fallon, upon Lake Kithsul broad, Was fought a mighty battle, with spell and shield and sword - ah, perhaps later."
"Yes. Much. And then, I saw you above the city among the rocks, just four of you, with a maimed man with no fingers! He was horrible."
"We called him 'Shields'," says Keldar. "I told you what you see is - "
"No, it's coincidence, nothing more," Rollfar says uneasily. She takes refuge in indignation. "But I knew you were in trouble – you nearly always are. So I went to find you, or help you, or save you, before you had your fingers chopped off, and when I got there, do you know what I found? People talking about you in the squares and the taverns! The toast of the city! Made a Marshal of Fallon!"
Keldar strokes the golden star affixed to his breast, with the feigned modesty that says, oh, this old thing? Rollfar goes to slap his hand away, but Keldar catches hers and gives it a gentle squeeze. She tries to pull away, but he doesn't let her.
"And you'd left already! I spoke to a fat man at the docks who was very glad you were gone and even more frightened you'd come back."
Keldar smirks at that, and Rollfar glares again, but her anger is nearly spent. "And so I took ship back for Orussus. What a journey, for no reason! And here you are, sitting around idly, drinking... drinking what?" She snatches Keldar's goblet with her free hand, and sips from it. She makes a face. "Saltwater wine? Again?"
Keldar shrugs. For some reason, her manner softens, and she takes a seat beside him. "How are the Ironforge-Millers?" he asks.
"Shut up, Keldar," Rollfar replies, and they sit there, hand in hand.