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accepted members of society. It may
     have been that his own desperate situation made the knight more tolerant, for he found
     himself replying, “I am Arryl Tremaine.”
    “We are both outcasts, it appears.” Fen indicated the empty benches around them. “You
     hardly seem the type who should be here. Knight of Solamnia, yes?”
    “I am a Knight of the Order of the Sword.”
    “Thought that.” Fen glanced warily around, as if he expected someone to be spying on their
     conversation. “You need not tell me, but I would be interested to know for what reason you
     are here.”
    “I am innocent of wrongdoing. I came to the aid of a man being beaten. I did not know the
     bullies beating him were city guardsmen.”
    The half-elf gave him a sour smile. “Crime enough here, depending on the situation. Tell
     me about it.”
    Arryl did, leaving nothing out. After a day of having no one willing to hear his side, he
     was gratified to find a sympathetic ear. Fen Sunbrother listened, and as he listened, his
     expression turned dark and bitter.
    “I have all the luck. I am constantly allying myself with those who draw the ire of the
     mighty.” The half-elf took a bite of his food, grimaced, but swallowed it nonetheless. The
     food at the arena was designed to keep the men fit enough to fight; taste was not a
     priority. “You have brought the attention of the inquisitors down upon you. Worse, you
     have attracted the personal wrath of Brother Gurim.”
    “What have I done to the man?”
    “What have you done? It could be any number of things” Fen poked the gruel with his
     finger. The hole formed did not fill in when he pulled the finger out. “The worst part of
     being in the arena is not the possibility of death - it's the food.”
    Arryl did not smile.
    The half-elf shrugged. “There is something that you must understand, Tremaine. In Istar,
     the clerics are the law. Among the clerics, the inquisitors are justice. It is they who
     define the words of the Kingpriest and how those words affect the citizens.”
    “Would that they were as concerned with the word of Paladine as much as that of the
     Kingpriest,” said Arryl sternly.
    Fen's eyes widened, then he nodded in understanding. “You knights are very strong in your
     faith, not to mention vocal about it. You've been talking like that for the past few days,
     haven't you?”
    “What of it? I am within my rights - ”
    “In SOLAMNIA, you would be within your rights, but not here....” Fen shook his head.
     “Istar is another matter. A Solamnic Knight, one of the legendary warriors of justice and
     good, rides into the holy city and finds it not so holy. Small wonder that you incurred
     the wrath of Brother Gurim. To him, you are a threat to the order.”
    “For speaking out?” Arryl realized his voice had risen. He glanced around, but everyone
     else was working hard to pretend they had not heard him. “I am only one man! What sort of
     threat could I be?”
    The half-elf grunted, began eating his gruel again. Between bites, he muttered, “You come
     to a place few of your kind ever visit and you immediately question the ways of the
     priesthood. Those who rule Istar have long seen the Solamnic Orders as rivals, jealous of
     the priests' wealth and power.”
    Tremaine recalled Brother Gurim's words at the inn. I PRAY FOR THE DAY WHEN THE KNIGHTHOOD
     ONCE MORE TAKES ITS RIGHTFUL PLACE AS HIS HOLINESS'S TOOL....
    “Brother Gurim may even think this a plot by your kind to undermine the authority of the
     Holy One. That alone would be enough to have you executed,” added the half-elf.
    It was such a preposterous thought that Arryl could not take it seriously. He decided it
     was time to turn the conversation. “And you, Fen Sunbrother? What harm have you done that
     sentences you to the arena?”
    He had expected something on the order of thievery, but the half-elf shrugged and said,
     “I'm a 'breed.' A mongrel.“