Celeste's workshop felt small with dragons inside.
Vorthraxx had dropped his humanoid form for something more comfortable. Owen kept his, unwilling to crowd the space further.
They had cleaned the blood off in the back room using water from a barrel kept for quenching metal.
Celeste worked at her main bench, organizing tools. Her hands had stopped shaking but the nervous energy needed an outlet.
"Tell me about your church," Owen said.
She didn't look up from the hammer she was inspecting. "Which part?"
"The part that makes clerics run in fear when they see you."
"The Church of the Radiant Arbiter." She set the hammer down with more force than necessary. "They teach that balance must be maintained. That pride comes before the fall. That dragons—" She glanced at Vorthraxx. "No offense."
"None taken. I've heard the doctrine."
