After a good night's sleep we return to Rostock. I’ve put the samander in the oil mp again for travel and it already looks a lot healthier than yesterday. It seems a lot more active and is starting to turn red again. I’ve also been feeding it firewood from time to time, it seems to really enjoy it. Then at noon we arrive at the refugee camp. As we bring our cart into their walls their eyes of despair turn to hope.

  “Alright, everyone! Please get in line! We’re going to organize the items by household, please come forward when your name is called, if the item is too heavy for you we’ll help you carry it to your tent!”

  We then slowly start to give back the valuables to the people. Many of them cry tears of happiness when they manage to reunite with their items while others cry tears of despair if we couldn’t find what they were looking for. Thankfully most of the ones I’m giving their belongings back to are adults who just wanted tools or keepsakes so it’s not quite as sad as some other items but I am a bit scared about the one armed dolls owner…

  Before that though, a small middle aged muscur dy approaches me, “Hello, I was the one that asked for the smithy hammer, were you able to retrieve it?”

  “Yes, I have it right over here.”

  “Oh…Thank the Gods it’s still here…Thank you so much, truly. A hammer like this could have easily been sold if you wanted to without anyone ever knowing and yet you still brought it back to me.”

  “Well of course, it’s your family's hammer after all.”

  “Yes…Yes it is. How did my fathers forge look?”

  “Hmm, untidy but otherwise mostly undamaged but the wooden parts on the outside have been destroyed.”

  “Ah…That’s good then…Once the vilge is rebuilt I can start the forge again.”

  “I wish you the best of luck with that!”

  “Thank you, Sir. Just one more thing…I know it’s a bit of a superstition but have you noticed anything strange while inside the forge?”

  “Hmm…No not really, why?”

  “Well…My father always used to say that from a well taken care of forge, spirits are born. He told me that you only become a true forge master once a fire spirit decides to breathe life into your creation. In a way…I guess I was hoping that you saw a glimmer or felt a presence that proves he was a true forge master. I’m sorry these are just old dwarven tales, I shouldn't bother you with them.”

  “Oh no, don't worry about that. I actually met the Spirit, it’s right here in this mp, it was about to die in there so I took it with me but if you’re restarting the forge soon I’m sure it will want to come back.”

  “Are you making fun of me, Sir?”

  “Huh? No! I’m a spirit mage, I can see Spirits and talk to them.”

  “Really…”

  “Yes!”

  “Well…You do have an Elf and a Half-Elf in your party so perhaps it’s more likely…Can you describe what it looks like?”

  “Yeah it looks like a samander, it was all sick and gray looking when I found it but it’s starting to get more healthy again and turning red.”

  “I see! Does it have a broken horn and a bck spot on its tail!?”

  “Uhm, no it doesn’t.”

  “I believe you then. Had you just wanted to pcate me you would have said yes.Thank you for taking care of it, Sir. Could you give it a message for me?”

  “Sure!”

  “Thank you for staying at my fathers forge and imbuing his creations with your fme. We were very honored by your stay.”

  I repeat that to the Samander and it seems to think for a bit before motioning for her to come closer.

  “I think it wants you to come closer.”

  “Sorry?”

  “I said I think it’s asking you to move closer.”

  “A-alright.”

  She then moves closer and the samander spits what looks like small embers into her eyes, shortly after the woman starts to cry.

  “Is everything alright? Are you hurt?”

  “I…I…I can see them now. All this time I never gave up hope and now I can see them…Thank you so much, Sir. Can you please tell me your name and the one of your adventuring group? I’d like to spread tales of your kindness and generosity.”

  “Uhm, sure! My name is Thoma Ahad and we’re the Shooting Stars.”

  “What a fitting name, thank you Mr. Thoma Ahad. My Elvish is not very good but May spirits kings watch over you!”

  “Haha, thank you. Have a nice day, miss.”

  After she said her goodbyes the interaction I dreaded most is next. Meeting the owners of the one armed doll.

  A human man in his thirties then approaches me, “Hello, were you able to find the missing doll of my daughter?”

  “Yes, but I’m sorry to say, it seems it lost an arm.”

  “Ahahaha, no worries it only had one to begin with, Mary!”

  A young girl with only one arm then starts walking over.

  “Look here, Mary.”

  “You found her! Thank you mask guy!”

  “Haha, you’re welcome. I’m gd nothing happened to you during the Orc attack.”

  “It must have been hard sifting through the ashes for a small doll like this but we really do appreciate it, Sir.”

  “Don’t worry about it, we just did our job. Please stay well.”

  “You too, Sir.”

  “Thank you mask man! Bye, bye.”

  As the two of them return to the crowd I utter a sigh of relief and return to Ray who is also wrapping up.

  “This was a good quest, ane. I think we made a lot of people happy today.”

  “Yeah, it only took us two days as well. Once the investigation is over we’re gonna be at 12 points, so we’re at a great pace!”

  “Ane, do you mind if I go into town first? I’m finished with my stuff and I want to try and look around for good pces that the fire spirit can live in.”

  “Uh…Sure. Be sure to be back at the guild by four pm though, also no unnecessary talking with strangers, accepting free food or going into shady pces okay?”

  “Yep!”

  “Good, I’ll see you ter then.”