[This conversation takes place at the Inn of the Welcome Wench, 
on the party's first night in Hommlet]            

            Elmo's voice trails off and his gaze wanders to the door. 
            "What is he doing in here at this hour."

            You turn to look as well and see a rather average-looking, 
            well-groomed human man dressed in plain, but relaxing grey evening 
            attire. A large silver cross accented with red and surrounded by 
            rings hangs about his neck, marking him a clergyman from the Church 
            of Helm. He scans the room quickly and starts for Elmo's table.

            Elmo sighs. "Here comes a sobering blow... I apologize in advance."

            The young man approaches Elmo and leans down to speak softly in his 
            ear. "May I speak to you in private for a moment, Captain?"

            Addressing the man but keeping his eyes at the group around the 
            table, Elmo replies. "No, my good cleric I am afraid you may not. 
            You are free to speak in the company of my friends here, however. I 
            trust their confidence with anything you would have to say to me. In 
            fact, you are even welcome to pull up a chair and have a drink if 
            you would like. I do not wish to interrupt our fine evening 
            otherwise."

            The man looks slightly ruffled, but as if he expected little less. 
            "The Canoness would like to speak with you about a matter essential 
            to the safety of the town. She will receive you immediately at the 
            Church."

            Elmo barks a laugh and looks up at the cleric, obviously feining his 
            excitement. "She will, will she? How gracious of her. And at such a 
            late hour. I must be truly blessed!"

            Eliciting little reacion, he continues more seriously. "You are such 
            the proper messenger, Calmer, as always. Let your mistress know that 
            I will address her concern tomorrow morning in my office. I am 
            entertaining guests tonight."

            "She insisted that she speak with you tonight. She will not be 
            pleased with such a reply, Captain."

            "Remember to duck when she swings her holy cudgel at you then, my 
            friend. Good night."

            Calmer sighs and stalks away as Elmo turns back to the group. "Sorry 
            for the interruption friends. As you can tell, I am not on the best 
            of terms with the Church. I will pay for that tomorrow, surely. I 
            deal with Y'dey barely a handful of times a year and suddenly she 
            expects me at beck and call. HRUMP!" He shakes his head.

[Awaiting cue from party (question about Y'Dey)]

            Elmo grabs his drink for a sip and replies, "The Canoness thinks all 
            her matters are of the utmost importance. This is not the first time 
            she has been overzealous about the safety of our community. She 
            flies off the handle sometimes as if I am supposed to report every 
            odd tidbit that surfaces about town to her. I am sorry it has 
            tainted our evening."

[allow general conversation]

            Suddenly all sound in the room quickly dissipates as the door to the 
            Inn is opened. Framed in the doorway is a middle-aged woman finely 
            dressed in a luxurious white silk dress, certainly not meant for 
            travel. Her short, graying hair frames a surprisingly smooth face, 
            while her bright blue eyes suggest deep wisdom beyond what her years 
            would suggest. With a smaller version of the same symbol that Calmer 
            wore on his breast, there is little doubt that Canoness Y'dey 
            herself has come to deal with the matter this night.

            Elmo sucks in a breath and mutters. "By all that is hallow and 
            green... What is this all about?"

            Then, to the group, "Please, friends, allow me to abuse your company 
            a while longer while I deal with her." His gaze then affixes on 
            Y'dey, but he does not rise to meet her.

            Obviously unused to seeing the high cleric in the Inn at such an 
            hour, the conversations only slowly rekindle. Vesta, the exceedingly 
            friendly and warm woman who has been acting innkeep for her father, 
            Ostler Gundigoot, peers out from the kitchen at the change in noise, 
            notices the Canoness, and hurries over to greet her. They exchange a 
            few pleasant words and Vesta points at Elmo. Y'dey leans in and 
            whispers something to Vesta and then turns to stride over to the 
            table, her serious look replaced by a warm and inviting smile. With 
            barely a pause, she grabs a chair from a table along the way, places 
            it across the table from where Elmo sits, and joins the group 
            without invitation. 

            Now at this close distance, the astute notice that her eyes hold 
            little of the emotion of her smile. Instead, they struggle to 
            contain the anger invoked by Elmo's rebuff. As she begins to speak, 
            her congenial tone is laced with icy undercurrents.

            "My good Captain. Calmer conveyed that you wished to receive me in 
            your place of business. I am often confused as to where that 
            actually is, but I assume that with the amount of time you spend in 
            the Wench, you must work here occasionally, no? In any case, I 
            certainly do not wish to interrupt your no doubt desperately needed 
            entertainment. Please let your friends here continue while I consult 
            with you for a short time." At this plea, Vestra arrives, as if on 
            cue, with a fresh round of drinks for the table and a glass of water 
            for the Canoness.

            Elmo ignores the barbs aimed at him and replies, "As I told your 
            ever-faithful messenger, I have little desire to hold private 
            council with the Just Servants of the Club this evening. If you have 
            something to tell me, do so here and be brief."

            "Unfortunately, my words are not for all ears. Are you sure you wish 
            to subject your companions to them?"

            "What are you playing at Y'dey? Get with it!"

            "Very well. I am sorry your good host is so very bull-headed when 
            dealing with me, but that is his scar to carry, I suppose." Elmo 
            scowls deeply at this comment.

            The cleric reaches into a pouch at her side and pulls out a small 
            device, a single string, taut and suspended between two connected 
            wooden posts. She places it on the table, plucks the string, and a 
            single, clear note sounds.

            "Now our conversations will be only our own and will not leave the 
            table," she proclaims. Eyes and heads turn around the room toward 
            the table, but most are quickly returned at a glance from Y'dey.

            Then, standing up, she says. "I would normally ask permission for 
            this, but again your host forces my hand toward rudeness." Elmo 
            rolls his eyes.

            Before anyone at the table can interject word or action, she grabs 
            the symbol around her neck and motions with her other hand while 
            chanting, "Lord of Justice, unveil wickedness."

[Y'Dey casts detect evil]

            As quickly as she began, it is over, and she sits down. "As I 
            suspected. Again, I am sorry for the intrusion, but my information 
            must not tip the wrong hand."

            Elmo is clearly fed up with the melodrama. "Are you dense, woman? 
            What in the abyss has the Lord of Law brought to light that 
            requires such delicacy?"

            Satisfied at her preparations, Y'dey unloads her news. "It has come 
            to my attention that our good friend, the head of the congregation 
            of Lathander, has been sitting on some rather important information. A 
            traveler of his faith saw ochre-robed folk on the east road last 
            week."

            "In any case, I find it quite disturbing that such a serious 
            situation has been hoarded by Yether, presumably to gain some 
            stature for his Temple. We must move to probe this matter 
            immediately, Elmo. We cannot let this happen again." A fire of 
            determination briefly replaces the anger in her eyes.

            Elmo shakes his head and smiles broadly. "Yether has not been 
            sitting on this information Y'dey. He told me a week ago, the day he 
            heard. I did not inform you because there has been nothing of 
            interest to report. This is what has been plaguing you tonight?" He 
            chuckles.

            Her composure slipping slightly at this revelation, she retorts, 
            "Valid or not, I should have been informed of this immediately, 
            Captain! We can afford no mistakes when it comes to those evil 
            clerics. They have brought the area to the brink of destruction 
            twice already!"

            "I intend to make no mistakes, Y'dey. I have a network of good 
            contacts keeping watch over the countryside near the town. You know 
            this. They have not been able to follow up on any of this report. 
            You know we have had a few supposed sightings of these types of 
            persons over the last decade and none have turned out to be true. 
            The stories of our trials and exploits travel far now and folk can 
            see what they want to see occasionally. You know better than anyone 
            that you cannot trust everything you hear."

            Not fully satisfied, she presses Elmo for more. "So none of your 
            recent information has turned up anything odd? What of the 
            moathouse?"

            "Jaroo assures me that the moathouse continues to be safe. There is 
            even a treasure-seeker staying here at the Inn, Chatrilon I believe 
            his name is, that has been there within the last week and found 
            nothing to report. Delian and Spugnoir have also reported nothing 
            interesting within the last week. Our peace appears to continue, I 
            am happy to report."

            Sensing a hole in his explanation, she follows up, the icy tone in 
            full force back in her words. "So, you have not actually been out of 
            town yourself to investigate this? Instead, you're relying on a 
            growingly senile druid, a stranger, a crazy trapper, and a wizard 
            who never stepped a foot inside the Temple. I see you are thorough 
            in your vigilance these days. I pray you did not spill a mug with 
            the effort."

            Elmo's face fills with rage. "And you know surely know better 
            sitting in your holy building with the mace of judgment up your ass? 
            I am no longer an agent free to explore at my whim, Y'dey. I cannot 
            disappear from town for days in this post. I didn't see you riding 
            out on one of your steeds to fight the hobgoblin raiders, did I? My 
            incompetent network of contacts sure botched that up didn't they?"

            Y'dey rises. "No, they didn't. But hobgoblins are no comparison for 
            the evil that has shaken us before. If you have no desire to 
            investigate this further, I will send Terjon when he returns from 
            Verbobonc. Though it is but a hobby for him, he at least enjoys 
            ranging still." 

            She reaches to grab the string, which oddly enough is still 
            vibrating. Elmo's hand shoots out to stop her from across the table 
            and their eyes meet with the intensity of wild emotions. "I will 
            deal with the matter, Canoness." 

            "I doubted you not, Captain." A small, genuine smile graces her 
            face. 

            She grabs the string while addressing the rest of the table, "I am 
            sorry to have ruined your pleasant evening. I had no intention of 
            involving others with our burdens. I hope you will forgive me, 
            knowing the situation at hand." Then, with little ceremony, she 
            strides out of the Inn.

            "I deeply beg your forgiveness..." Elmo grabs his mug and takes a 
            very long drink.

[with thanks to Matt Haffner]