The Nekromancer - 105. Chapter 105

Amnor Sen stepped into the small orphanage, his eyes adjusting to the low light within. He wasn’t sure exactly why he was here; he had just been walking blindly, thinking about Erith’s child. By some accounts, Erith hadn’t tried to cross the Chasm, she had fallen. It made no sense to the elf, and he tried to puzzle out her reasons. Bringing life into the world only to abandon it seemed a cruel fate for a child.

The Safe Harbour, really nothing more than a cabin squeezed between two larger homes, yet the supposed home of Erith’s offspring. He was in the Foreign Quarter, home to immigrants and vagrants. The district held a worldly feel to it, various architecture from around Golarion visible on nearly every street. But he was interested in this building in particular, this downtrodden orphanage that seemed to have escaped the notice of Cayden Cailean’s clergy. Many orphanages around the district seemed to be kept by the god’s followers, yet this one was invisible to them for whatever reason, and looking at it, Amnor Sen found himself wondering if it was by design.

A weathered man was standing over a cauldron, a small ladle scooping out thin stew into a series of bowls. He looked up as Amnor Sen entered, a frown on his worn face. The smell of the stew turned Amnor Sen’s stomach, but the elf tried not to let it show.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for the child of Erith of Kaer Maga,” the elf said, looking around at the small room.

“The free roamer? What do you wish with her descendant?”

“I do not know,” Amnor Sen admitted. “She shares a shrine with my husband. I feel I should know her better.”

“There is nothing to know. She was an elf of Mierani pregnant with a mage’s son, gave birth, and gave him up.”

“May I see him?”

“No,” the man said firmly. “We do not allow random strangers who are armed wander our home.”

“And if I left my weapon outside? I promise, I will cause no harm here,” Amnor Sen reassured him, setting his glaive against the wall.

A door opened, a young dusk skinned elf boy entering the room with a strange gleam in his violet eyes. He looked at the light elf, Amnor Sen blinking in surprise as he took in the drow. Slightly tapered ears were framed by off-white hair, a hint of blond adding to the colour, and his eyes were not like those of any drow Amnor Sen had seen before; not that the paladin sought out many drow.

“Krem, go back to bed,” the man snapped, pointing back toward the door.

“No, wait,” Amnor Sen said. “Is this the child?”

Things started fitting into place, a mage’s son, an elf taking her life…

“How old are you?”

The drow held up a hand, five fingers, and Amnor Sen shook his head.

“And he can walk? Feed himself? Was Erith half-human?”

The man shrugged, giving the drow a stern look.

“Krem, bed. Now.”

The drow turned, trudging back through the door. Amnor Sen waited for the door to close fully before looking at the man.

“You realize he’s misbegotten-”

“Of course I do. Why do you think Erith chose to cross the Chasm and leave him behind? She had no hope of passing the Trials.”

“Half-humans breed true. He doesn’t have enough elf blood in him to be a full drow, you can see it in his ears. Any drow sees him and they’ll kill him as an abomination,” Amnor Sen pointed out.

“And that is why I keep him hidden. What would you do, Master Adventurer? Drag him through the wilds with you? He is just a child, and he does not have the fortitude for that lifestyle.”

“He is not safe here either,” Amnor Sen pointed out. “I can protect him.”

“And why would an elf protect someone with drow blood?”

“Because he should not be defined by his heritage. And it is not right for him to suffer due to circumstances he had nothing to do with. Erith left him an orphan, I can give him a home. One where he does not have to subsist on watery gruel.”

“He will be judged by his heritage. That is a certainty, and nothing you can do will change that. You came in here, not knowing anything other than he existed, and you expect to be able to leave with him?”

“Yes,” Amnor Sen said flatly. “You run an orphanage. How many children are here, how many mouths do you have to feed? I can alleviate that burden. And I can promise he will be well cared for, raised by a follower of a good god, and taught to know right from wrong.”

“Are you saying there’s something wrong with how I run this orphanage?”

“No. I’m saying running a business is difficult. This is not a business, and that makes it even harder. Face it, you likely do not have the funds to feed everyone here.”

Amnor Sen watched the man’s mind spinning, thinking, and he tried to work some things out himself. He had six hundred gold still, plenty to build a small forge. This wasn’t Anuli, and it wasn’t Mendev, but maybe that was okay. He had a temple to pray at, and money for a forge; he could eke out a living here, smithing for the adventurers who came and went.

“I can offer my patronage of your orphanage for a long time to come. Thirty gold a month, to aid you and the children,” he offered. “Krem can come with me, or he can stay here. My husband taught me to value the freedom to choose, and Krem should be the one to decide. You can tell him what you need to. I will be back, with a roof over my head and gainful employment. My adventuring days are behind me anyway.”

Turning to the exit, the elf took up his glaive again, setting the weapon on his back.

“Think about it carefully,” the paladin advised, before stepping out into the dawning morning.

He had a lot of work to do.