It had taken the two of them a week to dig the gravesites. It would have taken only two days but with limited soft land about it made it difficult to dig out large enough plots in one section. So they had several smaller sites arranged in the general area. Some were a fair distance away.

After the digging had been completed, Casavir and Avera got right to the chore of removing and burying the dead, including the ones which had fallen in battle as undead. They seldom spoke of much more than the work that had to be done. What and where, who and how. It all ended up in wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow that they pushed out into the sun.

They were glad that the caves were cool. It would have been a lot worse in a warmer clime. As it was, both of them got sick several times from the smells and feelings that hammered at them. They took turns consoling the other when they were sick, offering water and reassurances.

He had to admit that he probably would not have been able to do this on his own. It was amazing to him that anyone would offer to help, let alone go through it with him from day one right to the end with no complaints.

It took another week and a half to find and bury all the bodies. They made sure to clean the caves out as much as possible. There were too many by far and Casavir was not able to identify a lot of them as there were villagers and others not from his troops.

He found it interesting that Avera had put it upon herself to make a list of names, asking him if he knew the people’s names. It was a mystery as to why she would do that but they had enough to think on working with the bodies.

Later, on the last evening of their gory excursion, they were alone as the others had gone out hunting. They were outside at their shelter. They could have stayed inside the cave but the air smelled much better outside.

He had just had his bath and now stood in front of Avera, wiping his shoulders off with a towel. She turned her head to get a better look at his back and rear end, hoping he did not notice her unrestrained ogling. As he turned she went back to her paperwork.

Casavir walked over and sat beside her. He lifted his arms and stretched the muscles in his back. Avera tried not to stare as he did this, “What are you writing?”

“Letters.”

He cast a glance at the small pile of letters on the ground beside her and quirked an eyebrow, “I thought you did not have much family to speak of.”

She handed him one of the pages and sighed, “They are letters to the families of those we have just buried. That is why I was asking you for their names. I figured that Katriona could bring the letters to their families. Maybe it will give them … well … a sense of closure at least.”

Her sensitivity towards others warmed his heart. She continued to amaze with her continued attempts to do good things for others. She did not care if it put her at her own personal risk, took away her time or cost her in other ways.

“Is this a song you are writing?” He pointed to a paper off to the side. She nodded as he picked it up. She gave him a smile to indicate that he was welcome to read it, “Do you always make amusing verses?”

“I don’t write anything sad. I only create to make people happy.”

He turned so quick she thought his head might fall off his neck. Then he grinned, that grin that turned her insides to mush. She tried not to notice it but that was difficult. He was so close. So tantalizing close, and their friends would be back any moment.

“I would like to check around the caves one last time tomorrow.” Casavir rolled his head to take out the kinks in his neck.

“Exactly what I was thinking.” But that wasn’t what she was thinking at all.

n

The barrel was moving, of that he was certain. He stood near the orc kitchen watching it and it definitely was making progress towards him. It teetered one way then the other and almost rolled. He walked over to it and peeked around to see Avera desperately trying to move it.

“What about rolling it?” He asked in an amused tone.

She stopped, looked up at the paladin, then bonked her head on the top of the barrel, “Not a bad idea.”

“What are you doing?”

“I was looking in this kitchen and noticed that there is a lot of grains and other foodstuffs which have not gone bad. There are more in the other kitchens above us. So I started thinking and realized that you said most of the people around Old Owl Well have been fighting the orcs. It seems to me that they probably didn’t have much time to farm so …” She waved at the kitchen.

He looked over her then down into her eyes, “That is a good idea, my lady!”

“I can get everyone else to rent us a couple of wagons and animals to pull them and send this all over to Katriona to give to the people in the area. Neeshka has been bugging to go selling stuff that she found here and at the Bonegnasher cave as well. That’s what made me think of this. They brought back a lot of foodstuffs last night.”

Casavir brushed her hair back, “You surprise me every day, Avera.”

“I hope it is a pleasant surprise.”

“What else could it be?”

She looked down at her feet, “Well, I’m not always good. Sometimes I just want to run away.”

“But you do not. Everyone wants to run away at times.” He sighed at his own painful memories.

“Uhm,” She cast her eyes about the room but could not get herself to look directly at him, “So why did you come to Old Owl Well?”

He took her by the hand and sat beside her on a pallet they had set up to relax on, “I could not stay in Neverwinter. I left my order. I …” He stuttered but her hand on his made him go on, “I betrayed my oath to my order and Neverwinter. I had … doubts about my service to Nasher and the city itself. It was impulsive and wrong but I had no place in Neverwinter any longer.”

“So you came here with those people?”

“No. I came alone. Tyr sent me a vision to follow and I saw how those in these mountains were suffering from orc attacks. It had been going on for years. I met those men and women here. They are people who live here, and were willing to lend me their swords. They are a tough people with good hearts. Callum will have good soldiers now as their knowledge of the mountain paths make them invaluable as scouts.”

She rubbed his hand and he accepted her touch, wanting more, “I needed to travel to Old Owl Well to try and take direct action, to make a discernible difference in the lives of those who needed it ... and I feel there we may have succeeded.” His voice lightened and he actually smiled, a true smile, “For that, I thank you.”

He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. She could smell his muskiness and it was driving her mad. His hand fluttered over her cheek as he gazed into her eyes. Both of them felt caught in the moment. It was almost magic.

“Hey lass! Lad! We’re back so break out some brew!”

Casavir gave her another smile, gently rubbed the back of his hand across her cheek and got up to greet the others. Avera grudgingly followed wishing for a good excuse to whap her dwarven friend upside the head with a big stick.

N

Khelgar pulled out the last of the bags from the Bonegnasher cave as the rest of the group rested from the work they had done as well. There was a lot of heavy lifting to get all of the foodstuffs and useable objects out of the caves but it was finally done. Everything they could remove that could help the people in Old Owl Well was removed from both the Eyegouger and Bonegnasher caves.

They had already taken everything from the Eyegouger caves to Katriona. That took two trips to get all five cartloads out. Now there were three carts with Bonegnasher goods sitting silently with lazy oxen to pull them. It had taken them another two weeks to do all of this. Avera kept finding more and more things that the people in Old Owl Well could possibly use. Tools, bedframes, trunks, and more. She finally stopped herself from going too much further.

They had spent the days working. The evening was the time to work out and to make sure they did not loose combat skills, and just plain ol' having fun. Each person was able to give ideas to the others in skills and were learning much more from each other with the time they had before. But it was all over and they had to get going onto other projects.

Neeshka didn’t seem to care for the oxen but she tolerated their smelliness in the same way she did Khelgar's snarling at her, telling the dwarf that these creatures at least smelled better than he did.

“That seems to be everything.” Grobnar cheered.

Two of the carts were full almost to the top and had the largest animals secured in front. The third was a little more than half full.

Khelgar and Neeshka topped one cart as Grobnar and Elanee got the second. They made their beasts move yelling back that they would meet Avera and Casavir outside of Old Owl Well.

Avera sighed as Casavir gave her a confused look, “Were we not going to see Katriona with this load as well?”

She looked up at him and hoped he would understand, “I’m sorry. I should have discussed this with you. This load, cart and oxen are for my Uncle Duncan. He has been sheltering myself and any of my friends since we came to Neverwinter. I owe him for that help.”

He looked at the load and nodded, “This food and these supplies should make him happy indeed.” Casavir lifted her up onto the seat of the cart, “Where will we be going from there?”

“I promised Khelgar that we would be looking for the Ironfist stronghold.”

He jumped up onto the other side of the cart and took his seat with the reigns, “Then that is what we shall do, my lady. Do you have any good cart riding songs?”

She laughed, “I think I can dredge up one or two for you.”