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"Lady Starsong wasn't quite as direct about it, but I think that we're here to do something about the Worldwound. Maybe to finally stop it. Maybe just to stop this one assault, maybe to finally put an end to the Worldwound once and for all. I hope that we can succeed."
Val thinks about it for a moment. "Honestly, I probably would leave. I can stay in one place for a while, but I realized a long time ago that I'm never going to be happy in one place. I've let the lady's wanderlust take me for too long." Her face twists into the grimace. "Dorian was old when I met him. It's been forty years since we last talked. He's been dead for a long time now."
She falls silent again for a few moments. "Maybe he did have some reason to teach me. I don't really know. And it's a bit late to talk to him now. I do respect him though. And I think that your master respected you too. He took the time to teach you not just how to fight but to entrust you with his beliefs. He wouldn't have done that if he didn't think you'd understand him."
"Lets hope she cooperates enough to convince the mayor," Isilme thinks as Markus begins to speak with Daena. "It still makes no sense why he's so antagonistic. Inquisitor Corum is feeling defensive after having been made to look incompotent by Val and Ehren, but the Mayor should be a relatively neutral party."
When Ehren joins the questioning, Isilme takes the opportunity to study the mayor, watching his reactions to the interrogation and studying his demeanor in general.
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"Helha and Rione. Why did you target them?" Ehren suddenly asks, still troubled by the seeming coincidence. He tries to keep his expression and tone neutral. "And why defame us? Why not just kill us?"
Daena rolls her eyes. "I saw you guys roll into town with them." She grins. "Why kill a stranger when I can knife ya in the heart instead?"
She locks eyes with Ehren, smiling faintly as if she were recalling a pleasant dream. "They both struggled, you know. Kellids always fight to their last breath. I remember the desperation in Rione's eyes when she realized she couldn't win. Dagger to the hamstring and all she could do was crawl... and weep." Her fanged grin widens.
To the other question, she shrugs. " 'Cause if I killed you, you'd die martyrs. Heroes. What point is that? I want everyone to know the truth - there's no heroes in this f~&%ed up world. Just predators and prey. And you're the prey."
But he glances at Annabelle with obvious discomfort when she isn't looking. He probably just isn't comfortable with a vampire living in the fort next to the town.
But it makes sense. A good vampire is an impossibility - just as a good demon would be. Her very existence is a testament to Markus' extraordinary capabilities.
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"Sorry. I did not mean to bring back bad memories." HInagiku waits a few moments, and when she believes the wait has become awkward, she tries with a new topic of discussion.
"What part of Avistan is there left for you to visit?"
"The far north mostly," Val replies quickly, grateful for the change of topic. "I've never seen the Land of the Linnorm Kings, Irrisen, anything like that. Mendev is the furthest north I've ever been. How about you? Have you seen much of Avistan? Or Tian Xia for that matter?"
Ary sighs. "There you have it. An uncoerced confession. Is Annabelle free to go, now?" she looks over to the Mayor, looking tired.
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Markus frowns. "You're disturbed." he says. "And I'm sorry for the suffering that you must have gone through. But you're going to die, and you're going to stay dead, despite your best wishes."
"But your master... do you mean Shax, or something a little more.... tangible? A boss rather than a demigod."
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Ehren bristles at at Daena's confession. He had expected nothing less, but the woman's callousness caught him off guard somehow. His face twitches as he struggles to hold his neutral expression; anyone with even an ounce of insight could see right through him. A nerve had been struck, evidently. He had encountered many wicked things up till then, and had stomached all of them. But never such blatant remorselessness - not face to face. There were a few choice things that he wanted to tell her. That now she was a trapped predator, that she would have to gnaw off her leg if she wanted to escape. Instead he exercises his better judgment. Ehren breaks eye contact and shrinks back, letting the crusaders take over the interrogation.
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The mayor pales, taken aback at the dhampir woman’s depravity. He nods mutely at Ary.
Daena looks at Markus. ”My master gave me my mask. I’m guessing you’re the one who recognized it? Since you bothered to take it from me.”
She leans back against the wall and closes her eyes. ”Funny – the necromancer calls me disturbed!”
”And guess what, no one dies. Everything you do is pointless. I’m gonna die, and then I’ll go to the Abyss and become a daughter of Shax. And I’ll come back to this plane. And I’m going to kill – again, and again, and again… and there’s nothing you can do about it.” She giggles.
"Becoming a vampire would have just been a big 'ol f++@ you! to the cosmos. Either way, those women weren't my last victims."
"Alternately... we put the mask back on, and give you a little bit of blood for the next century or so. Every single day. There are really a lot of ways for things to play out." Ary shrugs. "Regardless of that... that's not really how Demons work. You don't just hop into a demon's head. In fact... all you'll be... is gone. Just the echo of you destroying yourself, and the mindless destruction you've sewn. Are you sure that's what you want?"
Isilme ponders the daughters of Shax, trying to remember if something comes to mind. She can't quite put her finger on it, but something about it sounds quite familiar. "Daughters of Shax... that sounds familiar. Are you sure one of Ai'sintar's lectures didn't cover that Ary?"
Daena giggles.
"Oooooh, is that a threat, golden girl? Sorry sweetheart, but I did my research coming here." she looks at Tobias Luin and grins. "Punishment is carried out here, by law, by popular vote of the tax-payers. These backwater hicks are gonna take one look at me and send me to the gallows." She seems excited at the thought - her eyes are dilated, and her voice quivers with anticipation. "Pity they won't drag it out. I came into this world through violence, and violence should be how I leave it."
"I wouldn't call it a threat. I just prefer you get to make an informed decision about how you feel on these things. Now... it's more 'pity'." she says with a grimace.
"Also, why do you find it strange that another person does the opposite of Shax for a living?"
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"Mayor Luin, please listen to this woman's words. I ask you to take them into account when considering what I am about to request."
Isilme pauses for a moment to allow him to ponder the woman's confession and desire to be executed. "I understand that it is the townsfolk who decide her fate, and that I cannot ask you to alter that fact. I ask that you delay the decision until tomorrow, and that we are given a chance to speak before those who will decide. I would like to argue that this woman deserves imprisonment for life before the townsfolk."
Mayor Luin frowns at the dhampir woman, and nods.
"Sure. It is much too late to hold a vote right now in any case."
Daena's smile falters a little. "Ooooh. It's alright. I'll outlive this s**$hole of a town anyway."
Inquisitor Corum frowns. "Well, aren't you a loose-lipped one. I only have one question for you, seeing as you're so eager to confess your guilt. Who wanted you to slander these people, and why?" She gestures to Ary and her squad.
Daena giggles. "My master was hired - by Aponavicius, Mistress of Drezen. I'm guessing whatever they did in Kenabres made her very angry." She smirks. "Not that we need an excuse to serve the Blood Marquis, but it is always good to get paid to do what we do naturally."
The Inquisitor looks closely at her for a moment... then looks away, satisfied.
"Does your lot have any further questions for her? Otherwise, I am finished here. Commander Wardroxan needs a report."
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"Two things, Inquisitor," Isilme says to Inquisitor Corum.
She turns her attention to the Dhampir, then looks back to the inquisitor. "Firstly, the quasit is still roaming free. It may very well attempt to free her, and we've all seen how effective it is at causing problems. I'm certain you'll agree that extra precautions should be taken."
In the most polite and friendly tone possible she addresses Daena. "Secondly, I just remembered about the Daughters of Shax thanks to Ary. Babaus, how could I have forgotten? We traipsed over a half-dozen of your vaunted 'Daughters' after foiling the plans of Areelu Vorlesh in Kenabres. Should you find yourself in the form of a Babau some hundreds years from now after your withered and doddering self passes away, please feel free to seek us out. Quite a few of us will still be around, and I am certain any one of us would be happy to send you to the abyss a second time for old times' sake."
"Shall we depart?" she says, looking at the others.
Ehren nods stiffly and without waiting heads out the door, not sparing Daena another glance.
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Inquisitor Corum nods to Isilme. "Good thinking." She turns to Tobias Luin.
"Mayor Luin, if you please, we should guard this prisoner at Fort Portolmaeus for security purposes. She is unlikely to escape from there. We will release her for your town's judgment at your request."
The halfling seems agreeable. "Yes... yes.." He shakes his head and turns to Ary. "Thank you so much for your help." He turns to Annabelle. "I'm sorry for the confusion."
Annabelle grins sheepishly. "Yeah, yeah. It's alright. I'm just glad it's over." She follows the heroes out his door and out to the main street. Inquisitor Corum emerges behind them, dragging Daena roughly along by her manacles.
The group reforms and heads to Fort Portolmaeus. Annabelle hugs Hinagiku along the way.
"Thank you so much for busting me out of there, guys." she gushes, as Blossom appears out of nowhere at her side. She hops onto her horse and rides along with the group back to the Fort, happy to be out of Dawnton.
Once they arrive, Inquisitor Corum drops Daena off in the Fort's dungeons, then leaves to give her report to Commander Wardroxan, with Captain Bishop and Lieutenant Markus in attendance (along with any other members of the group who wish to attend.). Annabelle, for her part, retires to her room.
Ekira reiterates the day's events with honesty - recalling that her day was spent mostly interrogating Otto, then taking Rione and Helha's bodies back to the Fort for interrogation with Speak with Dead. Afterwards, she wandered around the Beer Garden looking for anyone suspicious, and questioning festival goers about Annabelle.
After Ary and Markus give their report Commander Wardroxan seems relieved.
"I'm thrilled that Annabelle wasn't the killer. I have to admit, I had my doubts at first. It really seemed like it was her. But I remember meeting the girl when she was freshly trained, and she struck me as an honestly good person."
She gives Ary a commendation for her group's good work - it is worth 2,000 gp. She dismisses Inquisitor Corum, but asks Ary and her group to stay behind.
"You all need to get your rest. Do you need anything from me?"
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Relieved at their success, and in good spirits, Isilme pulls out her flute and plays a cheerful tune on the return to the fort. ”Thank you Starsong for your help tonight,” she thinks, not entirely certain that they would have managed what they did without quite a bit of luck. She smiles when Annabelle thanks them, ”Of course, dear! Hopefully you never doubted that we would see to your freedom.” She watches Hinagiku on the walk back as well, noting she seems a bit more relaxed? No, perhaps open would be a better term. Isilme moves up along side her during one of her lulls in playing. ”Hinagiku, would you have time to meditate with me this evening? Or perhaps tomorrow if there is time? I would love to learn from you, and perhaps I can come to better understand myself as I am now through it.”
Once in the fort, she follows Ary and Markus, feeling she should be there for the report to the commander as a crusader under Ary’s command. She remains quiet the entire time, just listening the Inquisitor’s, as well as Ary’s reports on the murders and apprehension of Daena. Hearing it discussed in detail reminded her that they had lost Rione and Helha again, but she is thankful Ehren had thought to take Edgar into protection given Daena’s confession that she’d stalked them merely because they had been associated with the group.
When everything finally winds down for the evening, Isilme heads to a quiet spot on the parapets and begins to write in the journal in which she’d begun her story. She sits for the better part of an hour attempting to resume it before finally setting the quill to the parchment. Instead of continuing, however, she begins setting down her thoughts on the previous days at the fort, feeling the need to commit something to paper, even if it is not her story. When she finishes she sets aside the quill and leans back, staring up at the night sky. She recounts the stars quietly in celestial, its melodic nature and her rythmic pacing making it seem more a lullaby than a recitation. Before too long she closes her eyes, still recounting their names for a brief while before drifting off to sleep, her journal still open in her lap.
One often asks ‘Where should I begin?’ when pondering how best to recount such a day, but truly such a question is moot. One begins, as in any proper tale, at the beginning. In this case the beginning was not so much the start of an adventure, and one that I am certain all of us could have done without, but as the prologue. Were I anyone else, I would have counted the past two days as a pleasant return to normalcy. However nothing I have lived since returning, nor in the decades before I vanished could be described as anything of the sort. So instead I will describe them as simply pleasant, or perhaps delightfully mundane.
Each day I spent time checking on Cynosure. After our trek through the worldwound I have become especially fond of him, and try to bring him an apple or some other treat when I visit. Given how dangerous it is out there, I worry he may soon meet an end like the horses who had born our wagon. If he does, I believe I will ask Markus not to animate him, so he may rest peacefully. Perhaps then he’ll dream of the fields of Elysium as I do.
I digress, however, each morning I have accompanied the patrols out, using my music to allow us to make better time. Riding Cyno has become easier with each trip out, and the other riders have given me pointers as well, so I feel as if I have learned quite a bit. When I roamed the world I never would have considered riding one of these creatures for a moment. I was as fleet as they were, and I always took great joy in feeling the earth beneath my feet. I wonder how much this new form is changing the way I see the world, or how I see those important to me. What would you say, Elan? That I should embrace the change, this new adventure before me? You would be right, of course, but it nevertheless remains tinged with sadness. Or what of Ai’sintar? Would it bring you joy or sadness to know he is on my mind now in much the same way you were when we first met? Before I awoke these questions never would have bothered me, but for better or worse I am changed.
Apparently tonight my writings have a wanderlust that matches my lady’s, as my digressions continue apace. The remainder of these two days was spent telling tales to the soldiers, something the Commander had suggested after I recounted tales relating to the Brimoraks and Schirs in her presence. It was quite enjoyable, and both Hinagiku and Valaria came by during meals to join me for a while. I also spent a significant amount of time training in swordplay with Val. She is truly adept with those star knives, I doubt even Elan would have been able to best her in a duel. It is difficult getting used to how she fights, however, and I have much still to learn if I wish to be able to defend myself as she does when pressed.
This final day began exceedingly early in the morning. We were informed that there had been a murder, and that it had been committed by a vampire. Thus Annabelle was the prime suspect. Sadly, the two murdered were Rione and Helha, whom we’d only just saved from meeting their ends at the hands of the vermleks in Bedir. To make matters worse, her sword was found at the scene of the second murder, and a bloody shirt was left within her trunk. It is clear now, that she had not fed at all since being born, and we are lucky that in the end it that she was not responsible for the murders in a fit of bloodlust. Such an act would likely have destroyed her mentally and emotionally, apart from the obvious death sentence it would have entailed. It appears she and Markus have finally worked things out, however, as I was asked to help clean up after her first true feeding.
Thankfully Ehren thought to get Edgar and keep him close at hand, which in retrospect appears to have been the right choice. It’s clear that Daena sought to kill all three of them, as she mentioned having seen them with us when we arrived. We investigated the site of Rione’s murder, but Orug was quite uncooperative. Add to that my own eagerness to attempt to outsmart him when I briefly suspected his complicity, and we got little out of the site, as he shooed us all away shortly after we’d arrived.. We had better luck at Otto’s farm, however, and though he was inebriated and hostile, he allowed us to search. Ary’s exemplary skills at tracking discovered that Helha’s body had been dragged to the scene, and we were able to find that she had in fact been murdered elsewhere and moved here after being drained of blood and stripped. The evidence there was certainly a sign things weren’t as they seemed, but I wonder if we would have had enough evidence to exonerate Anna if that had been the end of our investigation.
Fortunately for us, the dhampir, posing as Inquisitor Corum came to round us up. Suspecting something was amiss, I asked of her something which the Inquisitor would have known to be an outright falsehood. The others soon caught on, and before the Dhampir knew what was happening we attacked. Starsong was on our side tonight. Daena was fearsome in battle, and the terrain favored her flat out. She might have slipped out of our grasp entirely if I had not managed to hamstring her as she attempted to right herself when Hinagiku knocked her prone. Furthermore Radiance was in rare form tonight, and Ary laid two blows so terrible that, had I been in the dhampir’s place, would likely have slain me where I stood. Eventually subdued, we returned to the Mayor’s, where we discovered that Valaria and Ehren had had an encounter with Daena’s accomplice, a quasit named Torvil. If not for Ehren’s quick thinking, and Val’s marksmanship, it might have ended poorly for both them and Annabelle. With the quasit exposed, however, the Inquisitor realized that she had been played, and relented to some extent.
After Markus and Ehren interrogated Daena, eliciting an outright confession of her deeds and goals, the mayor was swayed enough to consider Annabelle innocent, and Daena the guilty party. I asked the mayor for an audience before the townsfolk tomorrow so that we might plead for them not to execute Daena. She is convinced that her death will be rewarded by ascent into the form of a demon, and while skeptical myself, I have no interest to grant her her desire. I hope my lady grants us the words to sway the townsfolk tomorrow. I have seen the anger that courses through the town, and should we falter for words, they will likely execute her without thinking twice. Had Markus not discovered the purpose of the mask she’d been wearing, she likely would have been executed and arisen as a vampire, a truly terrifying proposition.
And so the tale ends for now. I have tried to continue the story I wish to give to Li’an one day, but somehow my muse eludes me still. Three nights I have attempted to set thoughts to paper, and three nights the pages have lain blank. For now I shall continue to recount the days as they pass, and record those things that I find of interest. I can see why Li’an enjoyed keeping a journal. Perhaps at some point, when my muse returns, I will continue the story.
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"Yeah... I'm relieved, as well." Ary nods, slowly. "I haven't been paying her as much attention as I should be. It's easy to forget what people are, when you get used to who they are." she says with a small shrug. "The fact that I couldn't vouch for her, personally, was a mistake on my part." she says, with a small grimace. "I'll have to see about spending more time with her... both as a friend, and as her captain." Ary says.
Honestly, though... Ary just wanted to pray, sleep, and then pray again, so she could get started on the next day. She didn't feel quite right having skipped prayer, even if her lady had allowed her to succeed without having taken her time to do so.
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Markus agrees with Commander Wardroxan - "I agree, it did seem like a vampire, and it seemed too convenient that there was more than one. But I knew it wasn't her, which was...confusing."
When she asks if they need anything, Markus purses his lips and hesitates. "I suppose if we needed anything, it would be...trust. Ekira Corum doesn't trust us. Many Crusaders don't trust each other. We've got people like Mr. Sazomal, betraying what we stand for. I can fight for a long time but I know we'd all feel better to feel a little less alone."
Commander Wardroxan frowns.
"Well, I trust you. I imagine you trust each other, or you wouldn't be a team. But try to understand - a lot has happened in these past few days, and your lot is at the center of it. That means attention, both good and bad."
She gestures at Ary, "That sword you wield, Radiance. Its bearer, Yaniel, was ex-communicated from the Church - yet her resolve never wavered, and she is remembered as a great hero today."
She scratches her head. "Ah, I'm no good at this, I'm not a paladin, I don't give speeches. What I'm saying is, try to keep focused on the good you do. Because your group has eased a lot of suffering by coming here."
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Val walks back to the fort in silence, feeling drained but extremely satisfied with the results. As much as she thinks that the inquisitor needs to swallow her pride, at least the commander is a reasonable human being. "Rest would be wonderful," she says. "I have been up since before dawn and haven't been able to relax all day since I was trying to keep Annabelle safe while she was wrongly imprisoned. I need food, to thank Lady Starsong, write in my journal, and then a solid twelve hours of sleep. Preferably in that order."
Assuming she's able to get something for dinner, she heads off to find a quiet place where she can view the night sky. She looks up and takes a deep breath. She begins to dance slowly, an almost somber waltz-like dance instead of her usual wild abandon. It feels more appropriate today. The names of stars and constellations roll off her tongue until she can't come up with another word. She makes her way back to their room and collapses on her bed. She slowly digs out her journal and begins to write, filling in the last few hours in slow handwriting. She barely finishes and manages to tuck her ink and pen away before she falls asleep with her journal still on her pillow.
At least I got to spend some time with Isilme. She’s been trying to get me to teach her some of my moves. Well, my sword moves. She could probably use some of my other moves too if she wants to catch Aravashnial’s eye. Well, once he gets his eyes back. Argh, I must be tired if I’m thinking about that kind of thing now. I digress. She’s got quite a bit of talent for dueling, though she’ll take a bit to get into form. Still, she’s starting to pick things up quickly. Hopefully she’ll be capable of a few of my more precise tricks in the near future. It will be very interesting day when she gets the tricks down. Never thought I’d be passing these techniques down to someone else. Does it still count as passing them down if my student is older than me?
That is when sh*t went bad. We were all woken at an utterly ungodly hour by another bigoted inquisitor who apparently had evidence that Annabelle had committed murder. Really? Really?! Needless to say, I punched her in her smug face. I will not apologize for trying to beat some sense into a hard-headed b*tch who needs to learn why racism is wrong. She can kiss my fist. And did so, I’m pretty sure. I just wish I’d actually broken her jaw. Then I wouldn’t have had to listen to her spewing vitriol every time we met. Apparently, there was evidence that a vampire had killed two people in town. Because clearly the vampire that is both a crusader and has been cleared by the church of Pharasma is going to commit murder. It’s not like there’s a demon lord of vampires or other undead in the Worldwound or anything. Gods help whoever has to be in charge of these fools.
I refused to let Annabelle go to the jail alone where someone could try to attack her while she’s helpless and locked up. So I stayed with her while the rest of my companions went to investigate the crime scenes and find the evidence we needed to prove Annabelle’s innocence. Probably smart, otherwise I would have broken my hand beating some sense into these hicks. I also got the chance to see Annabelle feeding. I think we’re a lot more similar than most people think. Having the urge to drink someone’s blood until they run dry isn’t that much different from the desire to rape someone until you’ve pulled their soul out through their crotch really. We talked for a while, swapping stories. I hope that I helped her come to terms with what’s happened to her a little more. You can’t change who you are more often than not. But you can make who you are something to be proud of. Dealing with her hunger might be something that takes a great deal more effort, but I have faith in her. She’s a good person and she has a strong will. She might even be stronger than me. I know that I couldn’t deal with my own problems on my own at first… If Annabelle doesn’t have a goddess to help her, then I’ll do everything in my power to help her while I can.
Ehren made his way back with word that things were coming to light and it looked like they were finding evidence that could clear things up. Somehow, something managed to get my dagger from my belt and run off with it. That’s when one of the prison guards ended up murdered with my favorite starknife in his neck. Because framing just one of us wasn’t enough. I managed to clean up my knife before anyone showed up, but I once again forgot that luck is only on my side when it feels like it. That had to be right about when Inquisitor B*tch decided to come back. With some rant about how Iomedae had spoken to her about how we were evil and guilty and all that nonsense. Now, I’m the last person who would say that the gods don’t talk to their servants. I’d be a bit of a hypocrite if I didn’t think that Iomedae might pay her a visit. But forgive me for thinking that she’s being tricked when I know we’re innocent. Oh, and just to screw with us more, Annabelle’s cell was opened by someone invisible, making it look like she was trying to escape.
Thank gods for Ehren. He managed to reveal that there was a quasit hanging around the inquisitor and whispering in her ear. You know, I’ve said this once today, but it bears repeating. If a belief leaves you vulnerable to a demon whispering in your ear, then your belief probably has some pretty fundamental flaws in it. I hate when people seem to miss the very obvious moral lesson of the moment. I’m certain that Inquisitor B*tch isn’t that stupid. Fairly certain in any case. I drove the demon off with a few well thrown knives. One managed to bounce off a wall and I may have injured myself a little bit… Being blind is rather terrifying. I’m glad that Ehren is as good of a healer as he is.
The rest of the gang made their way back with a dhampir in tow who was revealed to be the murderer. I’m thrilled that we managed to resolve that quickly. Inquisitor B*tch still owes Annabelle an apology for blaming her based entirely on prejudice and a knee-jerk reaction. There’s this lovely thing called ‘innocent until proven guilty’ that they love down in Andoran. More people could do with learning from that kind of idea instead of playing junior Grey Gardener and executing anyone that they feel like. But I’d just rather leave this place behind and not have to deal with any of them anymore. If I have to deal with them too much longer, I think I’m going to actually stab someone. I think I owe Hinagiku one. We might not have spoken much but there's something... kind of soothing about having a chat with her. Maybe her calm attitude is contagious or something. And it was nice getting a chance to swap stories with our newest party member. Argh, I need sleep.
"Don't worry. I get it. If we worry about what people think of us, we'll drown in hate. It's best to just keep swimming. Doesn't make it any less terrible when they start unraveling what small successes we manage... least of all because of us." Ary responds.
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Hinagiku hugs Annabelle back, relieved to see her somewhat more joyful, and, once she leaves her side, happy to see her ride in the night.
On their way to the forth, she subtly makes her way to Valaria in order to finish answering the tiefling's last question. She could not allow to leave an inquiry unanswered.
"Please forgive me for interrupting our conversation. To finish, the only traveling I did was from Kurihara to Mendev. We crossed the ocean by the crown of ther world, and arrived to Avistan using boats to cross the lake of mist and veils, and finally arrive in Mendev." she gives a small smile before fading into the background.
That is, until Isilme approaches her. After hearing her question, she nods.
"Yes I will have time tonight. I will first need to pray to the master of Masters, you are welcome to attend. Then, we can try to search your being for its state." she pauses and looks at Isilme with a gentle smile. "Are you ready to receive the answer though?"
Once at the fort, Hinagiku watches as the other give their report or talk with the commander. She keeps silent the whole time and waits until ethe reunion is over. The she leaves to eat a little at the dining hall before returning to their barrack, where she waits for the others.
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Ehren struggles to stifle a yawn when they return to the fort, the long day spent cooped up in the mayor's house having taken its toll. Valaria had it worse, he was sure. Still, he is rather insistent on being present at the meeting, despite being under no obligation to do so. At the very least, it helps take his mind off of Daena's depravity.
"The chance to do more good is all I need," Ehren says, smiling wanly. He glances at Valaria, sharing her sentiment. "Preferably after a good night's rest."
Having already eaten, the druid retreats to the bunker after the meeting ends. He tries to keep himself distracted, to focus on the good they accomplished. He even brings out the wardstone shards again, idly inspecting them without putting any real work behind anything. Try as he might however, he cannot take his mind off Helha and Rione. No one truly dies, Edgar had said. They just took on new shapes. Ehren knew that as well as anyone.
But that just wasn't good enough for him anymore.
"So long as the answer does not involve another fifty years trapped in a blade, I think I will manage," she answers Hinagiku with a laugh. "I would be honored to see how you pay your respects to the Master of Masters though."
Isilme catches up with Hinagiku in the barracks after the report. "いまは私が準備います," she says to the monk.
"Don't worry. I get it. If we worry about what people think of us, we'll drown in hate. It's best to just keep swimming. Doesn't make it any less terrible when they start unraveling what small successes we manage... least of all because of us." Ary responds.
Commander Wardroxan looks at Ary, relieved. "Ah, good, you caught my meaning. That's true. but you're strong." She grins. "Now, not to be the hypocrite, but you should get some rest. Dismissed."
The heroes all eventually unwind, get something to eat and retire to their bunker.
Well, except for Ary, who like the Commander, stays awake.
And Annabelle.
Annabelle doesn't understand. She watches everyone drift off to sleep, one by one, but not Ary... and it's getting pretty late. Even Hinagiku is asleep. She approaches her.
"Eeeeeey Cap'n!" she says softly. "Watcha doin' up? Didn't you say you were tired, earlier?"
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1 Rova 4713
The next morning is cold - a chilly 4°F - but that's normal so far north. A kellid would laugh and say he was sweating.
What isn't normal are the strange, red clouds. The crusaders worry its an omen, or worse, a sign that the Worldwound was finally snaking across the wardstone border.
In any case it's cold enough that the group needs protection from the weather to be outside for any amount of time - so the crusaders outfit the group with black fur cloaks.
Annabelle doesn't need a cloak, but she takes one all the same, as she doesn't want to stand out anymore than she already does. After all, word spreads fast, and even though her name was cleared of murder, it was now public knowledge that she was a vampire.
No one openly confronts her - to do so would be to insult their Commander's judgment in having her here - but people generally avoid her or, worse, whisper and point when they don't think she's paying attention.
It's a miserable experience for the vampire, so she hides in the group bunk for the rest of the day.
At noon, the villagers gather in the square in front of the gallows. They form an enormous, angry mob. Tobias Luin stands with Daena - Inquisitor Corum is there to keep the prisoner restrained.
"Daena Krune from Ustalav, do you admit to murdering Helha, daughter of Ennet, and Rione, wife of Orug?" Tobias Luin asks.
Daena grins. "Aye." Her eyes snake across the crowd until she picks out Edgar. "Some meddlers kept me from killing that one over there, too. So sad."
The crowd erupts into a fury.
Tobias Luin frowns. "Now, now, settle down," he soothes the crowd, as several people begin calling for her death immediately. "A crusader, Isilme I believe, wanted to have some words for you before we collectively come to a verdict."
---
Ary sighs. It was going to be a long morning. And that was before they met with the crowd.
She whispers to the others "You know... the crazy is really giving her the edge on the 'getting executed' thing."
Annabelle giggles. "Okay, weirdo. Anything to keep me from dying of boredom. I mean, I'd go riding but, last time I tried that I got framed for murder so I think I'm staying riiiiiight here."
She digs out her chalk from her bag, and follows her out to somewhere where they could draw a mural.
She picks the mess hall. Because Annabelle didn't go to the mess hall anymore.
"Hmmmmmm, how about Iomedae? Wearing a Mendevian tabard?" She starts sketching a larger than life-size depiction of her on the wall.
It's way off from what Ary saw. She draws her much too tall and Amazonian. And without the scars. And she looks more Mendevian than Chelish.
But of course that's not Annabelle's fault. She's imitating a popular depiction of her seen around Mendev - she didn't have the privilege of meeting her in person as Ary did.
"Well, that's the outline," she says, as she finishes. "Whatcha think?"
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"You're a lot better at the art thing than me, so I'll let you handle most of the work. We'll put up two murals, opposite one another. One will be how they'll see Iomedae... and one will be how I see her in my dreams. If they're opposite each other, there's a chance they'll stick around." She says, pulling out a few pieces of chalk they might be able to use to get the skin tone, right. "But they're both getting their scars. Because she got those scars the right way." she says, looking up to Annabelle with another smile.
Once they're ready to start on the outline of the real Iomedae, she moves over to the empty space and closes her eyes. She pictures Iomedae as best she can, and moves her hands to where she remembered her head-level being. "She was this tall... and this was the rough outline..." she says, focusing on the image, with her eyes closed for a second, and moving her hands... occasionally opening them to make sure the image in her head matched up with where her hands were.
Annabelle grins. "Okay, sounds good to me!"
She mulls over Ary's words as she helps sketch the Iomedae from Ary's dream.
"More like the Bishop girl with the gorgeous hair and green shield," she jokes. She looks at Ary's outline.
"Ah, no way, there's no way I'm taller than Iomedae!" She chuckles. "She's the warrior goddess!"
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The morning is cold, but Ehren is more or less comfortable with his new cloak on. Not that he would admit it if he weren't.
"It is what she wants," he remarks indifferently. Coming from Daena's mouth, the confirmation that they had saved Edgar's life does not sound so comforting. "But that does not mean it should be denied to her."
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"They -say- it's a weakness to have hair like this in battle, but I'm telling you... the Demons think twice when they see it. For one split second, they remember their mortality, and wonder if it's okay to hurt something this magnificent." she says offering another sly grin.
"Honestly, though... yup. Tiny. But Fierce. Like, look at Li'a... Isilme. You wouldn't think they were dangerous either, would you? It's not always about size... and in some cases, being too big can be pretty bad." she said, then after a moment's thought, "Though... to be honest, I'd always imagined her at eye level... not looking up." she says with a shrug. "But that's kind of the point, yeah? Even if they think yours is Iomedae, when they look at mine, what are they going to see? I'm hoping they can look past the exterior to see the warrior she is... or maybe look past the warrior of yours to see the person inside. Maybe that one's more important." she says with a small smile, and a wistful sigh.
"She was Chellish back when the area was the homeland of Aroden... before all the devil worship. Someone should really reclaim her homeland, you know?"
"I'd agree." she offers back, "But for the fact that we have enough powerful enemies without counting her among them. You know?"
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On the way to speak to the crowd, Isilme prepares herself to give as effective a speech as she possibly can. Pausing for a moment, she calls upon her runic magic to embolden herself, briefly tracing the rune upon the back of her hand.
Isilme moves up alongside the mayor and bows graciously before the crowd. She inhales once, then exhales, her breath visible in the frigid air. She inhales again and begins to speak loudly and in a clear, passionate tone to the assembled crowd. ”Gaeh saer aeuokl vlog saerr vlaeqok, ol vlor gaeh saer or; kair aeuor gaedro wlak kor ig ko gou,” she says in flawless Hallit to those assembled before her. ”A proverb of the Sarkorians and one all should heed, rendered in the common tongue it goes: With his ears let him listen, and look with his eyes; thus each wise man spies out the way.”
She pauses for a moment to let it sink in, then continues, ”I say again that this wisdom should be taken to heart by all, and certainly you, the citizens of Dawnton, should be especially familiar with it. I mention it because I need you all to be the wise men today, to listen and look at what is before you, so that the right decision is made.” Isilme looks about the crowd, trying to judge if they have calmed down some. She gestures with her hands to quiet them if they are still speaking amongst each other and then continues.
”This woman, Daena, murdered two of your friends, of your family. I see the anger and resentment within you, and I feel it as well. Though we only met Rhione and Helha a few days ago, we felt their loss too. Perhaps not as we would the loss of a family or a friend. It would be dishonest to claim that. No, what we felt is the powerlessness and despair of losing someone you fought to save. We wished nothing but for their lives to continue on peacefully. The power that allowed us to save them in Bedir failed us here, however, and for that failure you have my deepest apologies. Justice among your people would demand she die for the murders she committed, and I cannot fault you for wanting to repay her for your loss,“ she says, her voice taking on a sadder tone.
”Before you decide her fate, however, you should listen so you can see the woman before you for what she is. She is a worshipper of the demon lord Shax, who trades in lies and murder. She was dispatched here solely to turn you against us, and chose to do so by murdering those who had arrived here at our sides, Rhione and Helha. She came here prepared to die, for her masters had given her a mask that would have granted her life as a vampire when she was executed.” She looks around the crowd again, making sure they understand. ”Even now, deprived of her mask, she believes that her lord Shax will grant her the form of a demon when she dies. She relishes the thought of death, of coming back to murder even more than she has already.”
”Tell me, if death is what the a killer desires, is it justice to grant it to her? To give her a chance to be rewarded for the deeds she has committed? I do not believe so. No, the proper course of action today is to deny her her desires, to ensure that she is never granted an opportunity to harm anyone again, and to force her to live with her actions for the rest of her centuries long life. People of Dawnton, I ask you to quench your rage to see true justice served to this demon worshipper. I ask that you remand her to the crusaders, that she may remain imprisoned for the rest of her natural life beneath the fort.”
”Another saying comes to mind as I end my plea: Boot ko xoqiraers uoslk kidro o saso kiqov, ” she says, ”Fear the reckoning of those you have wronged. This woman does not fear death, she exalts in it. Give to her the thing she fears most, a life imprisoned, separated from her masters and allies, with naught but the voice in her head for company.”
”Wlou ko kakl vaqa ot taqor oqou, / Wlou ko kiqokl baed ot soor gaeh rorra, / Wlou siqo biqosot gaeqo oqou ot lookl, / Ol, oqiso od, wlou taexoqo wlaqo o kirs.”
May the flowers fill your heart with beauty,
May hope forever wipe away your tears,
And, above all, may silence make you strong.
She bows once more, then turns to the mayor, saying ”That is all I have to say, thank you.”
Annabelle laughs at Ary as she adds scars to the image. "Absolutely. It distracts 'em long enough for you to stab 'em through with that golden sword of yours."
She tilts her head as she adds in her face. It's much closer now, but of course, not perfect. "Chelish, huh? Didn't know that. I guess I don't really envision Chelish when I think of paladins, y'know?" She carefully draws in her brow - she looks serious, determined.
"So.... how about now?" She glances across to her first iteration of Iomedae - the first looks like an idealized warrior goddess, scarred, but beautiful and tall and strong. The other, much more human - a fierce war general who had seen many battles.
"Huh. Pretty different, but also similar. I like it."
"Yup... I don't know when exactly it was. Surprise, History isn't my thing. But somewhere along the line, Cheliax fell apart. It was in the wake of Aroden sacrificing himself to close the Worldwound the first time it opened. There was this huge fight. Thrunes wrecked... damn near everything. I don't know much beyond that. Just... Devil worship with the whole lot thinking that was somehow okay." she says with a shrug. "I'm sure it'd make more sense if I was from there. But... other places in the area stuck with Aroden, kind of. That's where Iomedae gets her title. She Inherited Aroden's position in a way. At the very least, most of the folks in my church agree that as a Paladin of Aroden who had ascended to Godhood, it'd make sense to just make the shift."
"That's about right. Try to remember. All your heroes are Human. Mostly. 'Cept the older gods, I guess?" She says, looking from the Mural to Annabelle. "You're not much taller." she says with a grin.
Val wakes up feeling much better the next morning. Getting her journal and things tucked away, she heads out the next morning to find some breakfast before they deal with the murderer. She hesitates to leave Annabelle alone in their rooms, but she needs to make sure that nothing happens at the judgment. "We'll be back soon," she promises. "Just... keep your chin up, okay? The crusaders don't realize that you're going through a lot dealing with this."
She listens to Isilme's speech with a smile. "And I thought I knew how to work a crowd."
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"That's a good point, too.." she says to Ehren via message. "Their intent is to punish... not just to do what they always do. It loses the meaning when all it is is a ritual. Or maybe it gains meaning when all it is is a ritual... at least to Shax..."
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Isilme is beautiful and otherworldly on the stage – while at first some of the more boisterous kellids protest her arrival, soon the entire crowd is held enthralled by the aasimar’s speech. Some start to cry, reflecting on the people they’ve lost since Armasse. The Sarkorians in particular are surprised at her eloquent Hallit – so few crusaders bothered to learn their tongue, despite building fortifications on their lands.
While she talks, a small entourage of crusaders approaches from the distance – a group of what appears to be four crusaders on horseback, accompanied by a blonde halfling woman on a pony. One of the horses is wearing magnificent barding – the rider is no less intimidating – a Mwangi knight of Iomedae with a dignified yet stoic expression and green eyes. They approach and stop a distance away, listening to the end of Isilme’s speech with interest.
At the end of her speech the people start muttering amongst themselves. The mayor gives them an opportunity to think it over, then after a few more moments, he queries the crowd.
”Daena Krune is guilty of the murder of Helha and Rione, our very own kin, by her own confession! Those who call for her execution, say ‘Aye!’”
A smattering people call out for her death – notably Orug amongst them.
Afterwards, he asks, ”Those who call for her lifetime imprisonment, say ‘Aye!’”
The response he gets is far greater – a clear majority.
”It is decided! Daena Krune will live the rest of her years in Fort Portolmaeus, until she dies of old age.”
Daena groans, snarling, ”When I get out – and I will get out – I’ll kill every single f@+~ing one of you backwater d&+!$~&s. I’ll flay your flesh from your bones for the glory of –“ Inquisitor Corum muffles her and grabs her roughly around the arm to take her back to Fort Portolmaeus.
As the crowd starts to disperse the knights approach the heroes.
The mwangi knight salutes Ary. ”Captain Bishop, greetings. I am Ser Jorsal of Lauterbury.. I apologize for your wait. I’ve been looking to talk with you and your group for some time.”
He gestures to the halfling girl beside him. ”This is Nurah Dendiwhar, Worldwound historian.”
The halfling is dressed in mostly green, and she has long, braided blonde hair and a wide smile. ”Hey there!” she chirps in a high-pitched voice. ”Splendid, splendid. I have so many questions about what happened to you. There’s a lot of… conflicting accounts. Shall we head up to somewhere more private, at the Fort?”
She wheels her pony to circle around the heroes, appraising them with interest.
”Hmmmmm,” she says, as she starts to shade the murals in, giving them shadow and depth.
”I didn’t know all that. Funny how that stuff isn’t mentioned in the Acts, right?”
After awhile, she finishes the murals, just as people start to pour into the dining room for breakfast. She murmurs a quick prayer to Shelyn under her breath, offering her work up to her goddess.
That everything was now different for her became quickly clear – she overhears a pair of people whisper about how could a vampire create a mural of Iomedae? Weren’t the monsters repelled by holy symbols?
She considers saying something, but she thinks better of it. She turns to Ary.
”Ah, sorry, Captain. I think I’m gonna go get a bath. Thanks for keeping me company. I really appreciated it.”
Valaria approaches soon after, offering her some support. She gives the tiefling a sheepish smile.
"Nooooo big deal, right?" she says, half-heartedly, before twirling on one foot and heading for the stairs as quick as she could move.
Ary provides a short salute as she sees the Crusaders riding in. "Of course. As long as there's nothing... more specific... that we should be doing?" she looks to the Commander. While she's well aware that Ser Jorsal outranks her, by a large margin, it's still her base.
Commander Wardroxan's eyes widen and she shakes her head vigorously. "No no no," she titters, obviously a little intimidated by the Sword-Knight's presence. "They've helped plenty. I can certainly spare them for as long as you need,"
Ser Jorsal nods, giving Commander Manaria a reassuring smile. "That is very well, as we have new directives for this group. But that can be handled later. Miss Dendiwhar needs to transcribe their account."
Isilme ignores Daena's taunts, but cannot help but smile slightly at the hand that the dhampir had dealt herself. Feeling rather pleased with herself she joins the others when she sees the knights approaching.
Isilme salutes the knights as they approach, although she is quite relaxed in her stance as she does so.
She looks the halfling up and down for a moment, pondering her name.
"Oh, Nurah Dendiwhar, of course! I remember you now, although I don't believe I ever saw you in person. You began your studies of the Worldwound during the third crusade, yes? I recall great things were expected of you, and I seem to recall you lived up to them. It is a pleasure to meet you," Isilme says with a smile and a bow.
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When Isilme comes back to their chambers, she finds Hinagiku sitting down in the lotus position. Noticing the entrance of her ally, the Tien woman stands up and invites her to approach by slightly bowing her head.
”Thank you for speaking my language of my nati… of Minkai, but I will use Taldan so that the others might understand us. Normally I would first meditate on my day, to clear my mind of troubling thoughts that might have arisen since my last meditation. However, it would take too long to teach you. If you are interested, I can show that to you later. Instead, I will do my daily obedience to the Master of masters. First, let us sit. ” Hinagiku quickly falls back into the lotus position. ”Extend your spine as much as possible to make your back as long as possible. Now, we will braid our hair. With experience, this becomes a ritual, quickly attuning oneself to meditative thoughts.” Hinagiku undo her braid, and starts braiding again, quickly and with the skills of someone who had done it many times. ”As you do so, breath deeply, with your stomach. When you are done, start anew. All the while, contemplate the hidden mysteries of the world. Let yourself be absorbed by questions you have asked yourself. Do not formulate answers, let them come to you.” Hinagiku falls silent, breathing in and out for the next half an hour.
Slowly her breathing changes and she whispers to Isilme.
”Now, normally I would read a book I have never read before. However, I do not have one. What I suggest is that we discuss a topic. You may ask me questions about one topic that I know, and I will ask you about one topic that you know. Please go first.”
Once she is done answering, Hinagiku asks her own question, still in a whisper.
”Could you please explain to me the investigation that took place today. What was the significance of the button? Why visit the site where the people had been slain? Why examine the bodies?”
Finally, once they are done, speaking, Hinagiku reaches for Isilme’s hand. She does not touch them yet, leaving a small distance between them.
”Now, we will do exactly what we did when we were braiding our hair, but while we are touching. Are you ready?” she asks looking into the aasimar’s eyes. Once she receives her permission, she gently grabs both of Isilme’s hands. As soon as she does, their soul’s connect and Hinagiku stares deep within her comrades core. She lets the feelings invade her, not focusing on any, waiting for knowledge to invade her, for the sensations to make sense of themselves.
Val has absolutely no idea who the knight is, though Ary's recognition is more than enough to satisfy her. The halfling on the other hand, she recognizes immediately. "I had a chance to read some of your work before," Val says with a smile. "You've written quite the collection so far."
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"Honestly. If you're looking for a story... Isilme and Val are the folks you want to talk to." she says with a small smile, "It probably helps that they're familiar with your work. All I'm good with is 'bear' and 'demon' and 'demon bear'." she says with a nonchalant shrug. "Do you have any suggestions for where we can speak in private?" she asks the Commander.
Commander Wardroxan fights hard to not appear flustered. ”Ah… yes… we have a meeting room. Right this way.”
Nurah grins with pleasure at having been recognized by the two women. ”Read my works, hmmm? You have good taste!” she winks.
”Hopefully you enjoyed it, as I have a feeling your names will be in the next one,” Her eyes glimmer. ”Ah, the opening battle of the Fifth Crusade and the last stand of Kenabres… Come, come, I can’t wait to hear the firsthand accounts.”
Ser Jorsal, Nurah, and the three attending knights lead the heroes up back into Fort Portolmaeus. After pausing for a moment to be screened, they proceed into the fort to meet in the war room. A crusader is sent to fetch Annabelle – as Nurah is especially curious about that story.
Annabelle emerges and slumps herself into a chair next to Markus. She glances at the crusaders glumly, already aware that she was to be put on exhibition once more.
Ser Jorsal introduces himself and Nurah once more. ”Right, well, as you should know we have been sent by Crusader-Queen Galfrey herself to receive your accounts of what happened in the Grey Garrison during… the incident.”
Nurah pulls out a water-stained journal filled with haphazard scraps of paper pinned in at random intervals – some of which folded up so that they could unfurl all the way down to the ground when opened fully. She flips to an empty page and pulls out a quill and bottle of ink. She grins.
”Okay. So I’m sure you know normal crusader protocol is to have the person in charge rattle off the report but I’m really interested in hearing each of your perspectives. And I already have a general idea of what happened, we swung by Kenabres and spoke to a few of your colleagues – Commander Irabeth for certain, and two of the Riftwardens left in Kenabres… ah… Aravashnial and Quednys. Oh, and a boisterous Empyreal Guardian named Hrut… So no need to go from the top.”
”A good historical account takes multiple perspectives into accord, after all! Now, first, some general information. Please correct me if I’m wrong.”
”So from what I understand Khorramzadeh attacked Kenabres on Armasse with the goal of disrupting the Crusader force long enough for Areelu Vorlesh to corrupt the wardstone with a Nahyndrian Crystal, correct?”
”Your group was sent into the Grey Garrison to destroy the wardstone before this task could be carried out. You succeeded… but in doing so somehow destroyed the entire wardstone field. We have reports that the menhir even along Ustalav’s borders have gone inert, and we can safely assume that the entire border defense is gone.”
”But the interesting tale came from Aravashnial… he claims that the field infused itself into your group.” She taps her fingers on the table. ”None of our experts think that makes any sense. The divine magic that powers the wardstone should have harmlessly diffused into the field. It goes against all logic that it would have channeled into yourselves.”
She tilts her head. ”So, my first question is, how do you feel? Did the experience permanently change you? I’d love to hear from each of you on this. I want to know if the experience is the same for each of you, or if it is slightly different…”
”My second question is, I want an account of what happened when you destroyed the wardstone. Please, spare no detail. I want to know everything!”
”Finally, I have an account that Areelu Vorlesh personally addressed you. Is this true? What did she say? What did she do?”