The reluctant sailor

[Aranath_of_Torm]

He had never been one for the sea. Rolling and crashing, tossing and churning, he preferred the stability of good soil beneath his feet. Still, his duties had taken him far from good earth - to the very gates of the hells and back. Now he was going "home".

"Odd that I should think of Baldur's Gate as home" he mused. "When I first saw the place I wanted to run screaming back to Waterdeep. Now I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be."

Thoughts of the region soon turned to the people he had known. Would any remember him? Would any care that he had been gone so long? His duty had been and always would be to Torm first and foremost, and when the Loyal Fury called, a man who claimed to be a paladin had best answer. So he had. And his adventure had taken him farther than he would have ever thought possible. But would those he had left behind forgive him? He wondered.

"What's done is done. I will eat as much crow as I am offered and ask for seconds. I am not too proud to apologize and accept my punishments. What comes will come."

The dawn was beginning to break as Aranath Turambar stood on the deck of the galley returning him to Baldur's Gate. His hand clasped on his sword, he faced east, to the just-visible coast. He was home.