Weeks passed as the party settled into a rhythm of healing, rebuilding, and preparing. The battle with the wyverns had left more than physical scars, and while each member bore their pain in their own way, life at the keep moved steadily forward. [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]], his new prosthetic leg more durable than the flesh it replaced, spent hours overseeing the construction of his tower. The workers carved each stone with care, raising a structure that would dominate the keep’s grounds. [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]] envisioned it as a sanctum for his ever-growing collection of magical and cursed artifacts—a place to study, harness power, and safeguard against threats. [[Ellette|Ellette]], however, watched the tower rise with a growing unease. The way [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]]’s eyes lingered too long on strange tomes and sinister baubles recovered during missions unnerved her. When he casually mentioned storing a cursed amulet he’d acquired “for research,” she knew she couldn’t ignore the signs any longer. One evening, while [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]] studied by firelight in the partially completed tower, [[Qwimby|Qwimby]] dropped by with two mugs of ale. “Busy night?” [[Qwimby|Qwimby]] asked casually, setting the mugs down. “Always,” [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]] replied, not looking up from a scroll laced with arcane runes. “Right. Listen,” [[Qwimby|Qwimby]] began, leaning on the desk. “We’ve all noticed you’ve been... uh, collecting. Magic. Cursed magic.” [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]]’s eyes flicked up, narrowing. “Is there a point, or is this just another one of your little heart-to-hearts?” “Don’t play coy,” [[Qwimby|Qwimby]] said, his tone hardening. “This isn’t about you anymore. It’s about the keep. The kids. You’re dragging things here that might bring nothing but trouble.” “And what do you know about power, thief?” [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]] snapped, standing. The sudden tension sent a ripple of unease through the room. [[Qwimby|Qwimby]] hesitated before continuing, his voice softer now. “You’re scaring them, [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]]. Even [[Ellette|Ellette]].” [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]] scoffed. “They don’t understand. Power means results. Results mean I can fix things... bring Nissa back.” [[Qwimby|Qwimby]] sighed, realizing the conversation was a dead end. “Just... be careful. You’re not alone here.” Meanwhile, life at the keep carried on. [[Qwimby|Qwimby]] took Pirate under his wing, begrudgingly entertaining the boy’s wide-eyed interest in roguish tricks. One day, Pirate darted around the courtyard, practicing stealth behind barrels and bushes. [[Qwimby|Qwimby]] watched, arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Not bad, kid,” [[Qwimby|Qwimby]] said as Pirate stumbled out from a shadow, grinning proudly. “But you’ve got time to learn. Don’t rush it.” Pirate tilted his head. “Why not teach me everything now?” “Because half of this is instinct,” [[Qwimby|Qwimby]] replied. “And instinct? That comes with age.” [[Ellette|Ellette]], with her left arm still regaining strength, worked closely with Zolton at the forge. The drunken dwarf, now more comfortable in his new home, showed surprising dedication. Together, they crafted training weapons and gear for Derek and the children. One afternoon, Zolton nudged a nearly finished shield toward [[Ellette|Ellette]]. “Not bad for a spell-slinger, lass. But next time, try hammerin’ like yer mean it!” [[Ellette|Ellette]] rolled her eyes but grinned. “Next time, make a forge that doesn’t burn half as hot as a dragon’s breath.” In the garden, [[Karrut Styk|Karrut]] tended to the plants alongside Erin, the little firbolg girl with ginger hair. She worked silently but diligently, her small hands moving as if she understood the rhythm of the earth itself. “You’ve got the knack for it,” [[Karrut Styk|Karrut]] said one day, watching Erin adjust a trellis. Erin beamed. “It feels like the garden talks to me,” she said softly. [[Karrut Styk|Karrut]] smiled, his expression bittersweet. “Maybe it does. You’ve got a gift, Erin. Don’t let it go to waste.” The garden flourished under their combined care, becoming a peaceful sanctuary for the party. The weeks flew by in this routine, but a lingering tension remained. [[Ellette|Ellette]] shared her concerns about [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]]’s growing obsession with [[Karrut Styk|Karrut]], [[Zara Blackwood|Zara]], and [[Qwimby|Qwimby]] during quiet moments, and while they trusted [[Morgar Goldgard|Morgar]]’s intentions, they worried about the risks. Then, the guild sent word, breaking the quiet routine. [[Ellette|Ellette]] read the message aloud over breakfast. “They’ve requested Sordia Vignti. Something big’s brewing.” The party exchanged looks. It was time to act again, though this time, they carried the weight of mistrust, unanswered questions, and scars—both visible and unseen. As they prepared to depart for Alexandria, the kids waved from the courtyard, their laughter filling the air. The tower stood behind them, looming like a shadow. For all their strength and unity, some wounds had yet to heal, and some threats came from within. [[Chapter 50. When Shadows Loom]]