Shaking with fear and desperation the party appears upon the steps of the Cathedral of Pelor where half a second ago Zaila was reading from a scroll of Teleport. They were safe, some place familiar, some place quiet, but still bleeding beaten to within an inch of their lives.
Zaila Fanter jumped as a voice from above called out, "It's them. They've returned!" It is the voice of an acolyte making preparations for morning prayer. Again more emphatically, "They've returned! Ring the bells, they've returned!"
And ring they they do.
Tredora Goldenbrow emerges from a hallway, struggling to maintain a level of excitement appropriate for the high priestess. Soon she is surrounded by others who approach with healing words, beacon's of hope, restorations spells and even needle and thread to mend the worst of the torn clothes of Chaotic Gold. Armor is removed, oils and ointments are applied. It is good to be safe.
"We must get you to Lord Jarmaath," said Tredora, "He will be dying with anticipation." and they began the walk, a chill breeze in the air far more welcoming then the hellish winds that fell from the inner sanctum of the Fane of Tiamat.
In the street, curious citizens in night clothes peeked from windows, ducking back in to yell for their families to awaken.
Late night drunkards offer cool metal of a tankards half filled with ale that feels refreshing in your hands.
Bakers emerge from their shops, warm loaves hastily offered to heroes, warming their hands and filling their bellies.
And finally, Lars Ulverth at the Keep of Triboar, "How fared you, Thorne," said he, "You look like you faced a dragon or two."
"Indeed we did, captain" said Thorne, "Bryllin Stoneheart's axe plowed right through one"
Jarmaath emerged mostly dressed. Servants fussed and fumbled about him, but they could not take their eyes off of the party. Eventually, Jarmaath waved them away where they stood, still staring from the sides of the room.
There followed the news of success, even if Azarr Kul and Wyrmlord Ulwai Stormcaller had survived, their ritual was foiled and such rituals always require not just any lunar event, but one that occurs only every several hundred years. Elsir's Vale would be safe from the infernal army and would have time to rebuild and the party would have time to rest and recover under the roof of the keep and with the full hospitality of the Lion of Triboar.
On awakening from sleep they visited Immerstal the Red's magic shop Red's Magics and Sundries to find the wizard himself running the shop. He explained that he had taken an unplanned shopping trip to Waterdeep shortly after Nameroc freed his enslaved Gynosphinx Alandri. It wasn't the invading army that had him worried, but the fact that he'd exhausted his spell slots fighting them and not at all looking forwarding to confronting his former 'employee.'
In his shop, they tried on armor, played with amulets, rings and potions making many fine selections and enriching the wizard appropriately. A few things they found better prices for at the Cathedral, but the wizard had his first good day since the Battle of Triboar. They spent so much money and so much time shopping with Red that Velorian was sent to find them.
"My dears," said she, "the feast awaits. If you will follow me."
Once outside they confronted by a riot of decorations. Banners in the colors of Elsir's Vale hung everywhere, small flags flapped in the breeze. Young women and men approached to hang garlands of wildflowers and herbs around the heroes necks, while children chased through the streets shouting, "No you do it."
Suddenly, one child, bright-eyed and positively vibrating with excitement pressed a doll into the hands of, Pimzin Teabottle. It had gold coins for eyes and otherwise the appearance of a halfling. To Zaila, a doll wearing purple with a tiny lute, and a dwarven doll with an axe and tall elven figurine with a bow. The last one came carried high in the air, or as high as the little one could reach. He made screeching sounds as he flew toward's Nameroc. It was an Eagle.
All of this while Velorian's Actors in colorful outfits sang and played instruments to honor the heroes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~'
At the hall, long tables groaned under the weight of the celebratory feast. Boar glistening with glaze, golden crusted loaves of bread and platters of roasted vegetables, brightly colored fruits...delicious.
Later, after much libation and celebration. After every speech, even the speech from Iormel Cowell who was forced to eat his own words along with the delicious pies on hand. After all of this Gundren Rockseeker and Rolf Axehaft approached.
"It is good tidings I bring, heroes. Good and worthy tidings," spoke the dwarf. "Our joint venture in the Lost Mines of Phandelver has produced its first revenue and after expenses it's produced 5 coins for each of you. It's not much, but it beats the alternative."
At this point Bryllin Stoneheart began asking questions of Gundren about Settlestone and Mithril Hall. She was anxious to follow the words of Dumathoin and make haste to the hall.... to deal with the Usurper, to defeat Osric and Beatrix Gemdelver.
Gundren lit his pipe and began telling the story. "Mithril Hall is not always as it was today," he said, "Once Bruennor Battlehammer ruled and it was a magnificent place. I'll be happy to see the hall of ride of the Gemdelver's, but exercise caution." The story he told is contained within Curse of Mithril Hall