"Forgotten?" Chane's smile melted into a bland look of brotherly patience. He pulled his hood back, exposing a mass of burnished red-gold hair and a smooth, narrow face. He knew well that his handsome features made most of the apprentices feel inferior. "Of course not, but I have been called away to Rysheos for diplomatic reasons. I sent a message to Narshanna. Did she not receive it?"

"I… No one said anything about… Shall I inform the council that you have gone to Rysheos?"

"Yes, how kind of you, Triska. Please tell them I will be back to Twilight Hall in a few tendays. I've booked passage on a caravan. The river is too treacherous this time of year."

Pulling his hood back up, Chane left the rotund apprentice staring in confusion after him. Once the tall priest reached the courtyard and found his saddled horse waiting, he smiled again.

Rysheos was situated along the trade routes between Cormyr and Waterdeep, a day's ride north of Soubar. The newly established boomtown bustled with life and color. Though still somewhat primitive in its architecture and inhabitants, the small city exhilarated Chane, filled as it was with smoke-scented trading shops and citizens seeking a fresh start. Until recent years, warring nobles-along with roving bands of goblins and ores-had given rise to chaos as each fought for control of Rysheos. But one powerful lord and his followers managed to crush all other factions and bring about a fear-induced peace. As the city flourished, opportunities surfaced for those with the courage to seize them. So far, no loremasters had established a temple here.