Tural doubles over, howling with laughter.

"Commander," she calls out, "what's the protocol for reporting strange curses of unknown origins, again?"

"Bewildering effects suspected to be magical and/or enemy action are to be brought to the attention of the ranking officer." He sips water. "I have noted this one."

(Tural had just made his save against that fit of laughter and now he's being forced to roll again. With disadvantage. It's very unfair.)

"Thank you, sir! I'll keep you updated." She rolls her eyes and casts Prestidigitation.

"My handwaving! It's contagious!"

"Another one for the commander to note! That's Select Blai Artigas, by the way, I don't know if you met earlier," she says to Tural.

Tural pulls himself together, a bit regretfully. "Ah, no, not yet! A pleasure to meet you." He bows respectfully.

Select, huh. How - what - 

Does this person have a rank. "Starsong" is a ridiculous surname and it would be way better if he were obviously some kind of cleric or officer with a rank so that it could be omitted. Alas. "Mr. Starsong, welcome to #11."

"Thank you! It's a pleasure." His curiosity is killing him, but he can't just ask the man "so, how are you finding your new God"...

Blai would agree that he can't just do that if posed the question of whether you can just do that. He's got a thin remaining spiel for welcoming adventurers: "Please let me or my second-in-command First Arcane Grec know if you or your party require anything you're not getting," and then he doesn't really have more things to say in this situation. He eats his stew.

Venn gets herself a bowl of stew, and then she and Tural will trade adventuring stories from the last year and a half, in a way that makes it clear that anyone who wants to ask questions or just listen in is welcome to.

She takes a break to do her midday healing song, when the time comes.

Ahh, it really is good to see her.

Tural and his wizards ("incidentally, I know you know Fayn is an arcanist - what is even the point in keeping that joke running when he's not even here") have picked up a gnomish cleric, apparently - she's currently napping in one of the fort's guest rooms. (The ranger they used to travel with lost an arm and retired.)

"What kind of cleric?"

"Ah, she's a Desnian, Select."

"Probably unlikely to wrangle any empowered converts even if she can be convinced to preach, up here, then. Alas."

"She wouldn't mind, and, ah, strange things do happen, but - probably not, yeah." Venn just smirked at him while nobody else was looking her way, she knows how curious he is,

Who, her? Nooooo.

Something sure is getting communicated there but he doesn't know what it is. He nods politely and clears his empty bowl.

Eventually Tural's party is ready to head out. (He did finally get a quieter conversation with Venn, and. gosh. It's very her! He wishes her luck.) He'll say goodbye and give Venn a (much shorter) hug.

Awww, that was such a pleasant surprise. 

She drops by Blai's office again the next time they're both free.

That's actually not till the next day since they're doing patrols in opposite directions most days now but here he is! "Hello, Venn."

"Hi, Blai!" Hug?

Hug! "Our neighbors appear to still be holding up acceptably."

"They had some badly wounded men on my side, but we got there in time, and I got them all fully healed. I'm really enjoying having Exquisite Accompaniment, it helps a lot."

(As usual, she's very relaxed-happy in his arms! ...today she also seems a biiit sleepy.)