Today's entry will be, by necessity, brief. It is not for lack of a wish to wax poetic, but to be respectful of its humble subject. I admire the trait, but it can make for difficult dancing around the bush when trying to praise the fellow. I will try to be as spry as possible.

I was called down to El Bain's by a messenger pigeon bearing the simple words, "My wife and I would wish to talk with you. -Ammara-." Curiosity and a respect for the man's friendship compelled me to travel down from Therenborough to speak with him. Myrta, his wife, was there as well, and we retired to one of the cabins at the resting spot to have private audience.

Myrta and I spent a few moments getting reacquainted for the last I had seen her was upon the island of Aesry many months ago. She asked upon the roots of the Quest and the reasoning behind its inception. Mark me well that that particular cleric sees deeply indeed. I know my answers did not make her completely happy, but I could do not better than those I offered.

(Forgive me, good reader, if I do not yet go further than those reasons already put forth: I look for courage and redemption...and the reasons for this is painful still. Maybe eventually I will share my errors here in these poor pages, but not yet. Not yet.

Let me return to the matter at hand....)

After we finished catching up, Ammara got to the point. He had a gift to offer, and one I most gladly would accept. With a quiet flourish and humble, yet honest, words he offered me companionship in the Quest. I could see in his eyes the reasoning behind it and here it in the words. A paladin is *meant* to Quest. To do.

I looked to Myrta. I could see in her the love for this man and how it was mixed with concern. Yet when I asked her for permission to bring her husband...and more importantly for her fellowship as well...at once her expression was one of grinning confidence that sparked so true I could not help but imitate. "Where he goes, I go."