Scorrin Fireforge handed a couple non descript books to the dwarven lady waiting inside the church cloister. " Here are the journal books you requested, Miss Kotri."
She ran the soft touch of her fingers down the spine of the book she accepted, and inspected it with a shrewd eye. " Have they been treated against water exposure?"
"Yes, as you requested. Now the protection is limited, mind you. Better to think of it as resistant, not water-proof." The cleric was young by dwarven standards and though his position in the church wasn't powerful, or even visible to most, his dedication as a Scroll Scholar and knowledge of dwarven history had earned him respect among the older clergy in the church. It was difficult for him to fight his enthusiasm to help the strangers who had been introduced to them through the grace of the Builder, deliverers of Barit's vision. The elf Rydin spoke words that rang with unvarnished truth,, a trait Skorrin admired greatly. In his mind, he could serve the church no better than by doing all he could to enable these holy warriors (for what other kind do divine visions deliver?) to fulfill the Builders will.
The other dwarf in the room cleared his throat from the small drinking table as he poured three stout whiskeys into short cups made from volcanic glass. Kotri only knew him by his first name, Florrin, and she had already grown quite fond of him. She could not help but think of him as a youngish grandfather. His manners were impeccable, he never misspoke or pronounced a name wrong, and he was at all times calm. His thickly corded forearms, however, told of centuries of wielding blade and shield, and his neck and barrel-chest still showed the strength that bore plate into battle, even if he was a bit thicker in the middle and slower of step in his advancing years. His mind however, was sharper than ever. He served the clergy here as a head of house, or chief butler even, of the church halls and chambers. There he lived out his retirement from being a fighter in military service. Kotri had managed to pry from him that he was trained as a Tactician, and served as a personal bodyguard to many officers over his career, and she delighted in goading tales of his past from him. "If you don't mind my asking,Miss Kotri, you were quite adamant for your need of these books. What are you planning to fill them with?".
She accepted her drink, and quaffed it after a ribald dwarven toast, forcing a blush from young and old dwarf alike. "Ahh. My lord Rydin rescued me from the lost planes of Hell and offered me his friendship for life. I wondered aloud how could I ever repay him? What could I ever do? He smiled at me and clapped my shoulder and said this. No one alive had ever lived a life like mine, and it would be a shame to lose what you have learned. Then he challenged me to write my story so it could be added to my peoples history. And so, I will"
Florrin smiled and let the whiskey drain his blush. His shield arm itched to protect these two friends, elf and dwarf, as they worked the holy vision of Barit's to its end, as his mind raced, dividing the politicians and nobility into two different groups.