"Ary will be fine. The army is in good hands," Ehren says confidently, with just a touch of bravado. It was hard for him not to worry, but he knew by now the futility of doing so.
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While the rest were out for awhile hunting dead cultists, Xanderghul gets something to drink, quietly mulling over things. He drinks whatever the Kellids give him, whether it be alcohol or water, and then takes a little walk around the town, observing the charred corpses of the dead Kellid hunters and the many dead tieflings, as well as the destroyed barricades. That aasimar woman had been a powerful mage - perhaps even more powerful than Xanderghul himself... but it had not mattered. In the end, she had fallen and they had won.
Still, it worried him. Xanderghul had no desire to see the Abyss grow, and if their servants who didn't even matter and wouldn't be missed had more power than Xander, he would need to learn stronger spells to compensate.
When the group responds, he returns to them to stand around and listen to them decide what to do. He doesn't say anything, though. He just rubs his temples, grumbling dissatisfactorily. He had a headache, and he just couldn't get that damn unicorn out of his head. The fact that it was there didn't help, but every second he closed his eyes was filled with nothing but blood and agony, things placed where they shouldn't be and the desecration of all that was beautiful.
Xanderghul softly exhales and massages one palm with the other thumb in an attempt to calm himself, but a bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face. He hadn't listened to most of the conversation about where they'll be, but he realizes now that they'd decided on staying. Good. He turns to Onsig and asks a question - "Where are the - oh, sorry. Ble allwn ni gysgu? Hoffwn i wneud hynny nawr. Dwi wedi blino. Mae'r diwrnod wedi bod yn draenio."
Onsig claps a broad hand on Xanderghul's shoulder. "Does ryfedd! Dewch, ar ôl yr hyn rydych wedi ei wneud i ni, fy nghartref yn eich cartref," he says as he ushers him out of the clan hall.
.........
The heroes elect to rest in Silvershore and wait for Commander Bishop's arrival. A few hours later, after the feast, the Clan-Lieges are gathered to judge the seven remaining cultists. The kellids stand in the center of town, with the seven guilty forced onto their knees, their hands and legs bound with thick, knotted rope. Some of them kneel there silently and stoically, while others, like young Kari, bow their heads and sob.
The five Clan-Lieges pace around them, inspecting their faces. A man of Clan Ysbryd-Chwerw ("Bitter-Spirit", in Hallit) faces the crowd. He is an imposingly large man, with short, dark hair and a grey-streaked beard. His face is streaked with blue war-paint, and strapped to his back is an enormous great axe.
"Daeth y saith eneidiau melltigedig gyda'u harweinwyr i losgi ein pentref i'r ddaear! I drais rhywiol ein merched! Rhwygo ein babanod o tethi eu mam! Ond rydym yn Kellid! Rydym yn sefyll yn gadarn fel y cerrig ger y llanw y Llyn o niwl a gorchudd! A chyda y cryfder ein cynghreiriaid, ffrindiau Clan Ferron, rydym wedi hindreuliedig eu drwg heddiw!"
"Ond yn awr, maent yn gofyn am drugaredd. Trugaredd?! Pa drugaredd y maent yn ei haeddu? Byddaf yn dweud wrthych - maent yn ei haeddu drugaredd marwolaeth glân. Mae'n fwy na fyddent wedi dawnus ni. Beth dweud eich?!"
"These seven cursed souls came with their leaders to burn our village to the ground! To rape our women! To rip our babes from their mother's teats! But we are Kellid! We stand firm like the stones bear the tides of the Lake of Mists and Veils! And with the strength of our allies, friends of Clan Ferron, we have weathered their evil today!"
"But now, they ask for mercy. Mercy?! What mercy do they deserve? I'll tell you - they deserve the mercy of a clean death. It is still more than they would have gifted us. What say you?"
Külə rests in the snow nearby, eyes closed, but his ears perked at attention, listening to the goings on around him. A pleased sneer curls onto his lips as the kellids cry out for blood, the crowd whole-heartedly agreeing with the clan-liege.
Ayavah sighs. She doesn't understand a word the man is saying, but from his tone of voice she can make a pretty good guess. She turns her head to Valaria and whispers "Do we have to be here? I don't want to watch this."
Another Clan-Liege, a frail old man with long grey hair - Arthugh of Clan Carreg-Fedd, speaks up. He is far more soft-spoken than the other Clan-Liege, yet the kellids silence themselves respectfully to hear his voice.
"Ffrind Clan-Liege Piersym yn siarad yn wir, nid wyf yn herio hynny. Ond rhaid i ni beidio ag anghofio bod heddiw rydym yn sefyll mewn barn, gan y bydd y Gwyrdd yn sefyll un diwrnod mewn barn ni i gyd i orchuddio ni yn gnawd newydd deilwng o'r eneidiau yr ydym yn trin o fewn ein hunain bob dydd. A pheidiwch unrhyw un ohonom yn tybio i gael y Doethineb y Gwyrdd? Nid wyf yn meddwl."
"A fydd unrhyw un yn siarad ar y rhan o'r saith eneidiau coll?"
"Friend Clan-Liege Piersym speaks true, I do not contest that. But we must not forget that today we stand in judgment, as the Green will one day stand in judgment of us all to cloak us in new flesh worthy of the souls we cultivate within ourselves everyday. And do any of us presume to have the Wisdom of the Green? I think not."
"Will anyone speak on the behalf of these seven lost souls?"
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Xanderghul tries to nap during the interim period of feasting that they have, but after a few attempts he curses and elects to just shove some food down his windpipe and grumble in the corner.
When the time for the judgment of their prisoners comes around, Xanderghul listens to the Kellids talk, a scowl never far from his face. When the call comes out for defense of the tieflings though, he looks around. He was sure that the time for mercy had come to an end... And normally, he would never stand to speak at a time like this.
Xanderghul grumbles, stands from his bench and walks to a spot near the tieflings. "I will." he sighs.
"Not if you don't want to," Val says softly, putting an arm around Ayavah's shoulder. "We can say you're not feeling well and go get some rest someplace else." Before she can, she hears Xan speak up and a small frown crosses her lips. She had expected Daisy or Isilme to speak up for mercy, but certainly not Xan.
After the others come back from the hunt, Hinagiku greets them, but she quickly leaves her companions to rejoin the prisoners. As expected, she finds that Onsigh and his men are eagerly binding the cultists. The monk, unwilling to let Kari and Ewis’ go unrewarded for not attacking her interposes herself, again, between the captives and the Kellids. Yet, she does so in a way only she is capable of, with calm and dignity, commanding, but not intimidating or defiant.
She points to the teenage girl and the pierced man, motioning that they should only be bound by the hands, and that she will be watching over them all night long exemple of hand signs.
During the night, Hinagiku is true to herself and barely sleeps, she stays by Ewis, Kari, and the other tiefling's sides. As promised, she takes their wills and last demands down.
"All, I have said I would take down your last wishes into account, convey any messages that need to be to your families, friends, or anyone. Even though most of you attacked me, I am still willing to do so.... but it's not because I want to stay true to my word... if these are your last hours, I wish to ease them for you."
Later, Hinagiku turns to Kari.
”Miss Kari, you asked earlier on the battlefield who was the Master of masters. He is the one who was once named Irori. A mortal whom, through sheer force of will, pursued the road to perfection until he polished his soul and body enough to ascend as a god. He did not need to go to Absolom, or use any magic. Now, he is a patron to all who wish to perfect themselves, become strong, of will, heart, and body.” Hinagiku takes out her holy symbol and shows it to the girl. ”His teachings are those of growth, his holy books filled with words of guidance to help people learn by themselves….” Hinagiku goes on for a while concerning the teachings of Irori until she finally breaches the subject of death.
”As I said, I will defend the two of you when the time comes. However, in the end, the decision will be that of everyone. And, if it is not one born of anger, I will have to agree with it. Still, death is not the end. If you regret what you have done, may gods will welcome you into their realms. If redemption is something you have often heard, but never cared for, than there are other gods, kinder than those of the abyss, who might still show mercy. The Master of masters is one. If you simply wished you could have chosen another path, or had been stronger, lead a life where you could have live through all challenged, and gotten better, than the Master of master can intervene. If one sincerely wishes to things and prays to him, than he can take your soul, wash it of all its memory, and send it to a new body. It is reincarnation, where are soul is born again, as a child, and is given one more lifetime to accomplish itself.” the monk finishes. With luck, it would leave the teenager with some hope, and her soul would not be doomed. She then looks at the other tieflings, hoping they might be interested too.
Hinagiku is saddened by the pain she sees in the prisoner’s faces. She tries to catch Kari gaze, and give her a compassionate look, but it’s quite difficult under the circumstances. If they turned out to be sentenced to death, then the only hope was that her words, and maybe forgotten or new faiths, would resurface just in time to save their souls.
When the two Kellids speak, Hinagiku turns to Ehren for a translation. And, almost in unison with Xanderghul, she steps forward. She would also take their defense.
”Mr. Xanderghul, would you please translate what I say?” she gently says to the wizard standing next to her.
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"Wrth gwrs byddaf yn," says Xander with a wry smile, glad that somebody the others respected had stood up beside him. He certainly hadn't expected to be on the same side as Hinagiku, but his dreams and the unexpected actions of his compatriots had driven him here. "I've really got to learn some magic that helps bridge this language barrier we have. Of course I'll translate."
Xanderghul turns to the Kellid council, and he turns to his compatriots. He does't wait for anybody else to step up, not expecting that anybody will. "I'll start. Hinagiku's words will temper my own, and I can't talk while she translates."
He looks at the Kellids first, addressing them in their native tongue. "aelodau'r Cyngor - rydych chi yma i benderfynu a ni fydd y rhain saith brwydrwyr gelyn yn marw. Rhoddodd Isilme hynny'n iawn i chi pan fyddwn yn penderfynu peidio â lladd nhw ar faes y gad."
He continues to speak to the Kellids, walking a little circle around the tieflings while he talks about them. He's not sure whether they understand Hallit, and he's sure that neither Hinagiku nor Ayavah do, so he switches to Common after a bit. "Byddwch yn dymuno eu gweld yn marw oherwydd eu rhan mewn gweithredoedd sy'n mewn perygl i chi a'ch teuluoedd. Eu bod yn rhan o grŵp sy'n ymosod ar eich pentref, a oedd yn rhannol gyfrifol am y marwolaethau o dros ddwsin o'ch helwyr, ac mae'r rhain - y lleiaf ymosodol, y lleiaf selog, ac mae'r rhan fwyaf o ofn - yw'r rhai sy'n cael eu gadael. Rydych yn gwneud hyn am ei fod yn ffordd hawdd i gael y cyfiawnhad mae angen i chi deimlo'n dda am amddiffyn eich pentref."
He switches to Common, turning to address his party members and the tieflings. "You spoke of mercy until they attacked the second time - until these men and women rebuffed your generous offer of a possible survival. 'submit yourselves to us', you said, 'and there is a realm of possibility where we might let you live, but only if you change everything about yourselves'. What a joke that must have been to them. In what universe were you ever expecting to get what you wanted from them?"
He turns back to the Kellid council, switching back to Hallit. His headache pangs, so he massages his temple for a moment while he talks, his eyes closed but his mouth never stopping. "Rydych eisoes wedi dewis i adael dynion a'r menywod hyn yn byw. Rydym yn wynebu nhw ar faes y gad. Cawsant eu harfogi. Ac rydym yn dewis i gwestiynu ein gwerthoedd eu hunain, er mwyn ei adael am ddiwrnod arall pan allem eu gweithredu lân. I poenydio nhw am ddiwrnod gyda'r posibilrwydd o eu goroesiad, tra'n cymryd i ffwrdd oddi wrthynt popeth gallent fod wedi ei wneud i helpu eu hunain."
He switches back to Common, not addressing anybody in particular, but just standing in the center of the room, massaging his temples and shouting, "But just be f#@&ing consistent! If you want to be Good, then be Good. If you want to offer redemption, don't do it at the end of a sword, or with the threat of death attached. It isn't kind, it isn't Good, and it certainly isn't noble to say 'do what I tell you, change yourself, or you will die' to a prisoner of war. It isn't noble and it isn't kind to hunt crippled enemy combatants in the snow, seeking further bloodshed where no more is necessary."
He opens his eyes, takes his hand off of his head and looks the bitter-heart man directly in the face. "Os ydych am fod yn flin, gyfeirio eich dicter yn y ffynhonnell gywir. Nid yw'r saith tieflings yw'r gelyn. Maent yn unig symptomau. Byddai eu lladd yn ffordd hawdd i deimlo'n dda am eich hunain. Os ydych yn ddig am y rhai sy'n ymosod arnoch, sy'n cymryd eich cartrefi a'ch hawl i ffwrdd, does dim angen edrych ymhellach na'r Worldwound, sy'n tresmasu ar garreg eich drws. Edrychwch dim farther nag y Archwiliadau'r Mendevian, a oedd yn dwyn eich cyfrinwyr a'ch shamans oherwydd eich bod ofergoelus. Peidiwch â mynegi eich pŵer yn unig pan fydd yn hawdd. Peidiwch â chymryd dial yn unig ar y ddiymadferth. Ac os nad ydych yn gallu dod â eich hunain i wneud hynny pan fydd yn anodd, peidiwch â gwneud hynny o gwbl."
"And if you're going to kill them, f&*+ing do it the first time."
He sighs, gestures at Hinagiku, and steps back.
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Despite the language barrier between them, Onsig and his hunters back down respectfully when Hinagiku refuses to let them bind the legs of Kari and Ewis.
Later, during the feast, Hinagiku's assurances that she will carry out their last wills does little to ease the cultists' minds. They simply do not want to die. However, a few of them speak up, speaking of family or friends as far away as the Mwangi Expanse, their voices filled with regret and not getting to see their loved ones one last time.
"I have no family. No last will. No nothing. Didn't run because there's no point. Stupid, would rather die by the blade than starve to death in the snow," Ewis grunts. He is mostly reticent, only responding to Hinagiku or anyone else when asked direct questions.
Kari, on the other hand, is more talkative. "Ummmm, I have no one you can get to. Daia si tata... er, I mean, my mother and father.. they are up north with Warlord Brae-Hagen. I... I hope they're okay."
She listens attentively as Hinagiku speaks of the Master of Masters. "A man... become god? That's amazing. I've never heard of him, before." She frowns. "There is so much that I do not know. My family travelled a lot, when I was young, we mostly kept to ourselves... people don't trust us Varisians in many places, you see. Then my parents said that we should go north, to serve in the great War, the War that would bring a New Age. They... they said that my birth was a sign our family was blessed. And so when I came of age I was brought here to serve."
She closes her eyes. "Do you think if I pray to the Master of Masters, that he'll help me? Daia meia, my mother, she always said that life feeds on life... the strong consumes the weak... one must be strong to survive. I-I guess I was too weak. I deserve to be reborn as a larva, to feed the strong." Her eyes well up with tears at the prospect, and she sniffs. "But maybe starting over... starting a new life where I don't have to mean anything, and I can just be a kid... that would be nice."
"I guess... if you see my parents... you can tell them I'm sorry I failed them. I couldn't live up to their expectations."
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Hinagiku nodded with a faint smile to Xanderghul’s response. In her old human self, Hinagiku would have paid no heed to the fact that they were unlikely allied in this battle. However, with her new kitsune blood still influencing her thoughts, the monk became quite aware of it, enough that a slightly crooked smile appeared on her lips, bigger than Xanderghul had ever seen (still pretty subtle).
Then, will he discourses, she watches, unsure as to whether he was asking for the prisoners to be granted mercy, or not. All she could tell was that the trial had set flame to something inside of him. Then, once he is done, she steps forward to join him at the edge of the crowd.
”Thank you.” she says to the wizard before turning toward the assembled people of Silvershore. ”To all I haven’t met, I am Hinagiku, or Daisy. I am sorry that I cannot speak your language, but hope that my actions on the battlefield earlier today will lend me credence.” she continues, bowing to the crowd. ”I won’t ask for pity or mercy from you, like priest from Mendev might, I know you are not people of Mendev, but of Sarkoris. What little I know from the faith of the land, is what Mr. Ehren, here, has told me. You respect the land, and I can tell you want justice. I understand, however, if you execute these people, only more harm will come to the land. Their souls, tainted by their recent actions, will only leave and feed the horde which has been on your doorstep for generations. Stronger onis… demons.” she pauses, reflecting on her own words. ”Still, I think there is still hope for them. I believe that they can change their life, and when they do they will no longer pose a threat, their souls no longer the food of demons.” she continues, her voice as composed as usual. ”Some are even still young, a mind that has not yet have the time to mature and make its choices. Wanting justice, I understand, and the price of lives is high. You want to make them pay? What about serving your? Prisoners for a time. See if they can serve the land, show them what a proud people you are, your strengths, the strength of the Green. Who knows, you might inspire them. ” Hinagiku waits one more time, trying to find the strength to finish he speech… it was truly hard not to ask for complete mercy, not to have the time to try to help each and every of them, to try to please the Kellids too. She had faced similar, yet much less critical, problems in her youth, listening and helping in her hometown, but this was so much more. ”And, if you truly do not believe they should live, simply stave off their execution. Give their soul a chance, and in one year’s time, carry their sentence.“ she stops, hoping the prisoners would not feel that she had betrayed them.
Xanderghul accurately translates for Hinagiku, trying to keep his voice impassive so as to preserve her own emotional emphases. He hopes that the two of them have enough perspective to sway at least their friends, if not the Kellids themselves.
It really peeves him when other people are as stupid as everyone was being.
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Isilme listens to Xanderghul and Hinagiku speak before stepping up herself. First she addresses Xanderghul directly, thinking his view of the situation too binary for her tastes. "While I appreciate your sentiment, Xanderghul, there has to be a solution between the mindless zealotry of the Burners and granting mercy to all who beg for it."
Looking around at the other group members before setting her gaze back upon Xanderghul, she continues. "It is a fine line to walk, and it is easy to say 'stay consistent', but it is much harder to do so unless your only goal is to slay all those who commit crimes without question. In such a world, we would not know Anevia, nor likely Aron, Annabelle's brother." Isilme looks at Külə, hoping the message is reaching him as well. "So there is good reason to grant those who have fallen, regardless of the reason for it happening, a chance to atone and move on with their lives."
"On the other hand, sometimes we do not have that luxury. Had we attempted to take prisoners during the fights against Empiri or Mangvhune, it would have risked the lives of the townsfolk of the village directly, as combat is chaotic enough that they likely would have had chance to escape and go after those hiding within the twon while we were distracted. To be consistent in a choice to grant mercy is a fine ideal, but the realities of the world require us to decide in a case by case basis."
Walking between the prisoners and the Clan-lieges, Isilme raises her voice so all those gathered around can hear clearly. She begins repeating herself in both Hallit and Taldane so all present can understand her. "People of Silvershore... Clan-lieges... There is something you should know before you make a decision on the fates of those before you."
"Our army came upon a cultist army at the remnants of the Bridge of Ahari. We were able to catch them mostly off-guard, and routed the majority of their forces. At the end, we had nearly a dozen prisoners left. We could have slain them there and called it vengeance for those who they had injured or slain. However instead we offered them mercy in exchange for what knowledge they could provide us." Though Ary had been a tad bit overeager to grant them autonomy, the truth was that Isilme felt they stood a good chance of actually moving on from their pasts.
"That knowledge was what allowed us to make it here in time to aid you in the defense of Silvershore. While some of your brethren died defending the town, the casualties would have been much greater had we headed here with the army as we had planned to do. Many of you today owe your lives to cultists who no doubt have committed evil in the past. And hopefully they will do more good in the future." This was an important point, and one she waited to see sink in among the Lieges, as well as to Külə.
She turns and gestures back towards the cultists, pointing at them while fixing her eyes upon the various Lieges in turn. "If given a chance, these standing before you might also save your lives one day, or the lives of someone you know and love."
Ayavah turns and gets ready to leave... but stops when she notices Xanderghul preparing for a speech. She raises her eyebrows, clearly surprised at this turn of events. She had been with the heroes long enough to expect this sort of thing of Hinagiku... but definitely not Xanderghul.
Clan-Liege Piersym crosses his arms and scowls through the majority of Xanderghul's speech, while Clan-Liege Arthugh wears a wry smile. Külə heaves a sigh and rolls over so that he is no longer facing the crowd, giving no sign of his thoughts other than whisking his tail back and forth irritably, as if he were being pestered by a fly.
"Nid oes gennym yr amser na'r bobl i warchod bagad o addolwyr cythraul," scoffs Piersym. "Dulliau y gaeaf. Rhaid i ni edrych i fwydo ein hunain."
"W-wait!" interrupts a man with a heavily scarred face, and a curled, insectoid claw for one arm, reminiscent of Jeslyn. "You said that you let some live for information? I can give information. If that's what it takes for us to live, I'll tell you everything I know."
Kari stops sobbing, her eyes wide with fear. "Wait! Shut up, Graffin! Don't you dare!"
"No, you shut the f!&& up, I'm not dying for this bullshit!" he snaps back.
"B-bi pil ugh uti pirúmb ish ai bol il retashul igh bi bol shúshakhul," quotes Kari, struggling against her bonds. "I... I don't want to die either, okay? But I'm not a traitor! I'm not!"
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Isilme seems happy to be diplomatic. Val is not nearly so nice. "F*ck you Xan. F*ck you and moralistic, better than thou bullsh*t, Mr. 'kill all the prisoners'. A wonderful lesson in consistency you are, refusing to show mercy at all, then next time talking about sparing everyone and using it as an excuse to try to what? To shame us into accepting your way of thinking? Truly, the world knows no better moral compass than the man who would change his beliefs in a day just so he can try to lord how much smarter than he is over everyone else. Morality isn't some coin that you can flip every time you have to make a decision, and you insult everyone who tries to honestly support justice and freedom, you degrade the very concept of Good, with your childishly simple view of right and wrong."
"Rydym yn cynnig achubiaeth ar y pwynt cleddyf oherwydd eu bod yn dod atom gyda llafnau a ffaglau, gan geisio sarnu ein gwaed a llosgi ein cartrefi. Nid yw hyn yn rhyw stori tylwyth teg lle y gallwn ddod iddynt gyda gwên a chyfarchion gyfeillgar ac yn disgwyl iddynt wneud unrhyw beth ond taro ni i lawr. Oherwydd eu bod yn cael eu gyrru gan y chwipiau o gythreuliaid a sibrwd melys yr Abyss sy'n addo bŵer neu chyfoeth neu beth bynnag y corneli tywyllaf calon dyn dymuniad. Felly, rydym yn ymladd. Rydym yn ymladd a byddwn yn eu lladd mewn brwydr ac rydym yn teimlo dim cywilydd yn hynny. Ond pan fydd y frwydr yn cael ei wneud, mae gennym ddau ddewis. Gallwn fod mor fwlturiaid dyddyn casglu..." She glares daggers at Xanderghul, her eyes shining with their own internal light.
"Pwy skulk ymhlith y meirw a rhwygo allan y gyddfau o ryfelwyr gostwng ddiymadferth mewn rhyw arddangosfa dirdro o 'dda'. Neu gallwn fod yn ddynion. Ordinary dynion, marwol sy'n cofio bod y foes rydym ymladd dros ein goroesiad yn aml ddim gwahanol. A gallwn gynnig help llaw iddyn nhw sefyll ac i gyfrif am eu camgymeriadau. Oherwydd eu bod wedi cyflawni troseddau. Daethant i ladd at y dyn olaf ac i hawlio tir hwn yn enw eu meistri. Ac mae'n uchder ffolineb i anghofio hyn y mae rhywun wedi ei wneud yn y gorffennol. Ond rydym yn dal i gynnig y llaw, oherwydd ei fod yn un mor ffôl i ganiatáu i rywun ond yn cael ei ddiffinio gan eu gorffennol. Ac os ydynt yn cwrdd y cynnig hwnnw gydag ymgais i yrru dagr drwy ein calon, yna felly y bo. Os ydynt yn dewis ceisio ffoi yn ôl at eu meistri yn hytrach na rhoi cyfrif am yr hyn y maent wedi ei wneud, felly y bo. Dyna yw eu dewis i wneud." Val's voice rises as she talks, addressing the whole room rather than just staring daggers at Xanderghul.
"Ac mae'n eich dewis, fonheddig clan-benaethiaid, er mwyn gwneud yn ogystal. I mae gennych hawl, hawl o bawb, i benderfynu ar eu cyfreithiau eu hunain, eu ffordd eu hunain o fyw. Nid ein lle i fynnu eu marwolaethau mewn rhai arddangosfa dros-selog o gynddaredd cyfiawn, nac yn ein lle i fynnu eich bod yn eu sbario yn rhai dros yr arddangosfa uchaf o drugaredd a gostyngeiddrwydd. Oherwydd ei fod yn eich pobl y maent wedi niweidio, eich tiroedd y maent wedi ymosod. A beth bynnag y croesgadwyr eraill yn ei feddwl, nid ydym mor rhyfygus ag i gredu y dylai eich pobl yn dilyn ein ffyrdd. Os ydych yn galw eu marwolaethau, yna nid yw'n ein hawl i addo iddynt y byddant yn byw os ydynt yn ildio. Ond mae'n ein hawl i wneud ple ddifrif i chi. Maent wedi gostwng yn hyn, mae'n wir. Maent wedi niweidio dy bobl. Ond nid oes neb yn cael ei eni drwg. Waeth pa mor galed i chi roi cynnig, waeth pa mor ffyrnig ydych yn ceisio i gael gwared arni, ni all unrhyw cythraul yn llwyr ddinistrio potensial unrhyw dyn am byth. O fewn pob brigand blackhearted, mae golau. Felly, yr wyf yn gofyn i chi, os gwelwch yn dda, arbed iddynt. Heb fod allan o rai galw hunan-gyfiawn ar gyfer rhywfaint o gysondeb mympwyol, ond oherwydd fy mod yn dal i gael ffydd yn yr enaid marwol. A dynion a menywod hyn yn haeddu'r cyfle i ailddarganfod y da y tu mewn iddynt."
"Who skulk among the dead and tear out the throats of helpless fallen warriors in some twisted display of 'good'. Or we can be men. Ordinary, mortal men who remember that the foes we fight for our survival are often no different. And we can offer them a hand to stand and to account for their mistakes. Because they have committed crimes. They came to kill to the last man and to claim this land in the name of their masters. And it is the height of foolishness to forget what someone has done in the past. But we still offer that hand, because it is just as foolish to allow someone to only be defined by their past. And if they meet that offer with an attempt to drive a dagger through our heart, then so be it. If they elect to try to flee back to their masters rather than account for what they have done, so be it. That is their choice to make."
"And it is your choice, noble clan-chiefs, to make as well. For it is your right, the right of all people, to decide their own laws, their own way of life. It is not our place to demand their deaths in some over-zealous display of righteous fury, nor is it our place to demand that you spare them in some over the top display of mercy and humility. Because it is your people they have harmed, your lands they have attacked. And whatever other crusaders might think, we are not so presumptuous as to believe that your people should follow our ways. If you demand their deaths, then it is not our right to promise them that they will live if they surrender. But it is our right to make an earnest plea to you. They have fallen far, it is true. They have harmed your people. But no man is born evil. No matter how hard you try, no matter how furiously you try to stamp it out, no demon can completely destroy any man's potential for good. Within every blackhearted brigand, there is still light. So I ask you, please, spare them. Not out of some self-righteous demand for some arbitrary consistency, but because I still have faith in the mortal soul. And these men and women deserve the chance to rediscover that good inside them."
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Prior to returning to the hall, Anevia had retrieved all of the arrows she could, before gathering every weapon she could manage from the battlefield, making quick circuitous trips - many more than she would normally need to, filling her arms to the brim with weapons, and then depositing them at the gates. Metal was always valuable. Maybe the Kellids wouldn't want it, but the Army, when it made it here, could definitely use it.
While everyone is busy addressing one group or the other, Anevia sits with the prisoners, translating for those who don't speak Hallit in a hushed tone.
When things heat up, she pauses, though.
Anevia raises a hand. "You're both focusing on the wrong thing in what Xanderghul was saying. He didn't say 'spare them all or kill them all'. He said 'don't not shoot them when they surrender, then shoot them the next day.' He's saying it's pointless to keep them alive if ultimately you only plan to kill them. I mean... it's one thing if you plan to give them a real trial. To find out what they did, why they did it, and then decide - but without a flock of inquisitors, that's going to be near-impossible. We don't have the magic for that. So you have to make the decision when you spare them on the battlefield - and you did. You chose not to kill them, then. Why did you stop? Because it was wrong to kill a man who was unarmed? Because it felt good in the moment to just not kill? Because you felt you could vindicate some, but now you're unsure of which you can save?" Anevia asks, giving a shrug. "I think everyone here made the decision to let them live in that moment. I killed some that attacked us, and I killed some who ran - not because of malice, but because as little information gets out about us as we can manage is better." she says, not picking sides, but instead trying to clarify from her position of neutrality - playing arbiter rather than flame-stoker.
"It's also kinda worth noting that the ones who ran were very probably gonna be killed by whoever they reported to, unless they were smart enough to just flee.
Xanderghul crosses his arms and rolls his eyes. Valaria had gotten pissed at him, sure, but he had awoken the fire in her heart. Some people were just too easy to manipulate... And Xanderghul doesn't care about what people think of him.
He knows he's right.
"I think that if you're going to kill them, you kill them. If you're not, then you don't. You don't waffle back and forth, like one extra stab wound makes their lives that much less worth it. Don't degrade your own beliefs like that."
"You already decided to spare these men and women. You have had many, many chances to see them dead if you wanted them to die. Why is it an argument? If you want to kill somebody, you just do it." He nods at Anevia when she describes his position. "What the girl said."
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"Except that is what he said. If that wasn't what he meant then perhaps he should think before he speaks instead of acting like he's the only voice of reason and expecting us to bow before his wisdom." She turns to the archer and takes a deep breath. "Because I don't want these people to die. And I do think it's immoral to kill them after they've surrendered. If it was my choice, I would spare them all and give them the chance to make something better of themselves. Because I value other people's lives. But, rather ironically considering your words, you seem to have missed the point of what I am saying. My point is that it's not up to us whether these men live or die. It's up to the people who they attacked, the people whose land we currently stand on. But for all his wisdom, he seems to have misunderstood that our intention the entire time was to spare those who surrendered and then do everything in our power to convince the clan-lieges to agree with us."
She turns back to the clan-chief and bows her head. "Ymddiheuriadau am ein ... anghytundeb yn eich presenoldeb. Nid ydym bob amser yn gweld lygad i lygad ar y materion hyn. Os bydd y gofal a bwydo carcharorion hyn yw eich prif bryder, hoffwn awgrymu cyfaddawd. Yn ein galluogi i fynd â nhw i ffwrdd unwaith y bydd y fyddin yr ydym yn cyd-fynd yn cyrraedd. Gellir eu hanfon i garchar croesgadwr neu ynghlwm wrth manylion cosb o ryw fath yn hytrach na gofyn eu marwolaeth. Ac os ydynt yn siarad y gwir, mae llawer mwy o fywydau, fel rhai eich pobl, gellid ei arbed."
Xanderghul throws up his hands. "It's only up to them because you let Isilme give it to them, knowing fully that the Kellids would decide in favor of death. You're just deceiving yourselves."
Xanderghul rolls his head around, his eyes lolling. "Unless, of course, your plan was to give the decision over to the Clan-Lieges and then swoop in and save the day from the vicious natives, magnanimously convincing them to spare the lives of the poor, helpless prisoners. Without telling any of us that was your plan. Well, if it was your plan, great job. You look super merciful right now."
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"Remarkably, I am capable of realizing that other people have the ability to make decisions of their own," Val says. "And I am not so arrogant as to believe that I am automatically entitled to have my way whenever I desire it. Because, and this may come as a surprise to you since you have trouble with thing like humility, I actually recognize that demanding the clan-lieges do as I say and refusing to allow them to have a say in what happens to the prisoners is really f*cking arrogant. It's no wonder that the kellids think the crusaders are invaders when people waltz in to their towns and tell them which of their laws they are allowed to enforce and which ones they're not. But no, clearly the oh so wise Xanderghul knows best. Next time, we'll simply slit all their throats where they lay on the battlefield instead. That's a much more reasonable course of action than talking things over with the people who are in charge of the town they attacked. I'm sure all of them would be very thankful that we decided to execute them ourselves rather than trying to give them a chance to live once they surrendered.
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"Do you think the locals have any popping corn?" Anevia asks conspiratorially of her captive audience. "I mean... poor taste, sorry. I... don't think it's all going to be bad for you lot... just... they get this way a lot. Especially the pink one. She's -really- passionate. About everything. Hopefully you guys get to hear her tell a story while she's drunk."
She then turns to Kari, pointing, and keeping her voice low. "I have no idea what you said, but it's not really 'being a traitor' when the ultimate plan is for the bad guys to make you bug food or lock you in an infinite maze - at best. I get where you're coming from, but your loyalty is much better spent on someone who thinks of you as a whole person" she says, pausing to move her pointed finger from Kari to Hinagiku, "Like our foxy friend over there, as opposed to a disposable part of the whole. Don't get me wrong, being a part of something bigger than yourself is great... but you can still be you, without having to be all... hive-minded."
She then turns her attention to other man, "And... Graffin - I can't really speak for the Kellids. Again, the pink one seems to have already decided not to be in the middle of it, but any information you can provide will save lives. Might not be yours, but... what kind of legacy do you want to be remembered for?"
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Ehren stood near the front of the crowd, initially content to let the Clan-Lieges pass judgment on the cultists. Having calmed down somewhat over the course of the feast, it became easier for him to realize just how much his frustration had colored his sense of judgment. He was introspective enough to realize that he, too, could be quite vengeful. And so, either for the cultists' sake or his own, he had every intention of keeping his peace. The truth was, he already expected them to be spared; his friends had a way with words, and he already knew that Isilme and Hinagiku would advocate for mercy. Perhaps that is why he is so surprised to see Xanderghul step forward first.
The druid frowns throughout the wizard's speech; it was amazing how he managed to be both inflammatorily patronizing and somewhat sensible at the same time. Not that he agreed with everything he said. More predictably, the mention of a moral quandary ignites yet another disagreement. Ehren glances around uncomfortably, well aware the fact that a good number of the villagers could not even follow their argument. How was it that all five of them (even Xanderghul) could advocate sparing the cultists, yet still manage to squabble about morality in front of the entire village? Were they so different that they had to argue, even when there was something they actually agreed on?
I suppose I am no better, Ehren thinks humorlessly, letting out a defeated sigh. Even after having food and drink, he could still taste blood in his mouth. He glances at Külə, who he had found himself agreeing with not so long ago. The pain he had felt in the unicorn's soul... small wonder that the creature wished agony and death on those who had wronged him. For a moment the druid stops, thinking back on the immeasurable pain he had felt in his short lifetime. Most of it was not even his own. Very quickly, he comes to the conclusion that he did not wish it on anyone else.
"Credaf fod pawb arall wedi siarad eu darn," he starts suddenly, stepping forward and looking to Valaria and Xanderghul, and then to the Clan-Lieges. He looks Clan-Liege Arthugh in the eye and nods. "Hyd yn oed fel gwas y Gwyrdd, ni allaf honni i wybod ewyllys y byd. Ond efallai mae yn gorwedd posibl yn y saith eneidiau na ellir eu gweld yn hawdd. Maent eisoes wedi cael ei addo i'r Affwys, ond mae siawns y gallant dal i gael eu hachub."
"Even as a servant of the Green, I cannot claim to know the will of the world. But perhaps there lies potential in these seven souls that cannot be easily seen. They have already been promised to the Abyss, but there is a chance that they can still be saved."
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"A trial is irrelevant, Anevia. These are not criminals, they are prisoners of war. Their guilt is not in question. We stopped because there was a chance that they might be shown mercy, but it was not our decision to make. If you are suggesting it is cruel to have given them any chance at mercy at all if they might yet wind up dead, I suspect they will disagree with you, as must I."
Isilme raises an eyebrow at Xanderghul, but otherwise remains impassive. "If I had been certain the people of Silvershore were certain to kill them, I would not have made such an offer. Please do not insinuate otherwise. I have no issues with killing those who merit it, in combat or outside it." Isilme pauses for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. "In truth, if any of these cultists had deserved mercy, it was likely Edmure." His sincere concern for his family made her wonder how he had found himself here."My Lady Starsong, perhaps I erred in not giving him a chance to redeem himself in this life. Guide his soul in its journey beyond, that he might find a path to a kinder place than the abyss." Returning her attention to the matter at hand, she continues speaking to Xanderghul. "The people of Silvershore, however, have the right to decide the fates of those who attacked them. We did not defeat these forces without them, we could not have saved the town between the six of us."
Instead she focuses on the two prisoners who had been arguing. "Graffin? That's your name?" she asks, moving over by him and the one who he'd been arguing with. "And Kari?" she says. She looks at the girl, judging the sincerity of her beliefs. "Be aware that most of us here understand abyssal just fine. Quoting the dogma of a Deskari worshipper openly is not exactly the wisest move in this situation."
She turns her attention back to Graffin, realizing that the information he had might give them an advantage, as had the information they'd obtained at Ahari. She kneels down, placing a hand upon his insectoid shoulder. "Graffin, I will do everything in my power to ensure you are allowed to live. Please share with us what you know. There is no shame in trading such information to try to save your life when doing so might also save the lives of others."
"If it's not our decision to make, and we believe in the Kellids' decisions so much, why are we all standing up to stop them from doing what they were planning on doing the whole time - executing the enemies who tried to kill their children?" says Xanderghul, his look transitioning to 'very annoyed'. He looks between Isilme and Valaria, who seemed Abyss-bent on proving him wrong. "The appearance of respect is not respect."
He scoffs. "Actually, it's done. I'm done."
"No point in making Valaria any more emotional than she is," he says, before simply walking back to his place and sitting down.
Clan-Liege Arthugh nods at Ehren. "Rydych yn siarad yn ddoeth, offeiriad ifanc. Dewch, Piersym, Arryn, Arior, Cothi. Byddwn yn ystyried yn breifat yn y Neuadd Clan. Byddwn yn dod i'r amlwg pan fyddwn wedi dod i benderfyniad."
He smiles at the group - the fact that they're bickering openly doesn't upset the kellids at all - indeed, if anything they wonder why they aren't settling it with their fists (the most logical way to end a heated kellid debate). "Diolch i chi am eich safbwynt. Yr wyf yn credu eich bod wedi rhoi rhywbeth i feddwl amdano ni."
The Clan-Lieges leave for the Clan Hall, each acknowledging the heroes with a nod or smile as they move past.
"Thank you for your perspective. I believe you've given us something to think about."
Kari locks eyes with Anevia - they're pink and puffy from crying. "Do you have family? Well I do. And for me, they're all I've got." Realizing there isn't anything she can do to stop Graffin from talking she just hangs her head and sobs - she's cried enough that no tears come, only her body shudders with despair.
"Our leaders won't just let this place go. They need it, to establish a supply line to untainted food," says Graffin. "Warlord Brae-Haegan was going to send reinforcements to pull supplies once they've secured some of the northern holdings... You see, a third went to the Ford with Commander Andora... but another third, with Brae-Hagen, went to secure the old salt mines in the north. Then the rest went with Warlord Jorsal, to take the castle."
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Anevia shook her head, opting to ignore Isilme and Valaria's need to focus on being right over hearing what she was saying. They were all ultimately agreeing, she'd just tried to clear up the biggest source of frustration she could see, and hadn't been heard. She hadn't even made her own opinion known, really.
Instead, she focused on the more important thing. "Yeah. I have family. I've had a lot of families. The first ones I had were in Nidal. Liars and cheaters in a land where not doing the right thing, which was usually the wrong thing - but not lying, cheating, or stealing - got you tortured to death, at best, and probably tortured after death by things that just really like piercings. Turns out, pissing off the people in charge there... not such a good idea. That's why I'm not in Nidal anymore. I don't really know where that family is... but very probably dead. Very hopefully dead... given that there are worse things than living. Like being trapped in a situation you don't have an answer for. Not that I'm suggesting one kill themselves to escape that sort of thing. But wishing you were dead is as good a reason as any to leave, I'd think." she shrugs a little.
"So... I ran away. I'm honestly still being hunted. Changed my name... changed a lot of things. They can still find me though, as evidenced by a few weeks ago. But I've got a new life now, with new friends, and a new family. I'm not at all suggesting you abandon yours. Little brother or sister or something? Do what you can to save them. I'll even help. But... if you're more talking about a cult or a guild, then you're part of that family by choice. And you can leave at any time. One person isn't gonna be missed by the hive. But every one of these guys back here are gonna remember you, no matter what you do here." she says, pointing back at her companions. "The pink one or the gold one are probably gonna write a story about you, or at least tell one. So... again. How do you wanna be remembered?"
Ehren eyes Kari with a frown, seeing that it was not faith, but fear that ruled her heart. How many among the rank and file were true zealots?
"Mantarin," Ehren says when he hears Graffin's summary of the enemy's plan. "The mine once belonged to the Crusades, but it was abandoned after the fall of Drezen."
"What of Fort Vilareth?" he asks Graffin, recalling the message he had sent earlier. While Mangvhune's escape already almost guaranteed that news of their presence had spread, he still did not relish the idea that they had possibly relayed important information to the enemy. "Has it already been taken?"
Xanderghul rolls his eyes and sighs. "Gods damn it," he whines. "Aren't we ever going to be done with all of these little skirmishes? We're sent on a secret mission with a very small force, and there's a whole region with absolutely no military support that we end up having to babysit."
He lets out a disgusted groan. "So if we do nothing about this.. Brae-Hagen, he's going to take the mine and then he's just going to come back and destroy Silvershore. Have I got that right?"
"Great."
"Can you tell us anything about Brae-Hagen and his men? Is it another hundred-seventy-five?"
"Now you are being deliberately obtuse for no reason other than your inability to possibly admit that you're wrong," Val says flatly. "It's not disrespectful to disagree with someone. If anything, understanding someone who has a different belief or point of view than you is more respectful because you actually took the f*cking time to think about how they feel. But reasonable human beings, rather than arrogant bast*rds like you, are capable of actually talking out their differences in opinion and reaching a conclusion that everyone can be happy with rather than just forcing their will on other people."
Val groans as the cultists reveal their information. "We don't have time for this. If we don't get back on track soon, the window for our mission is going to close and we're going to be out of options. We need reinforcements to secure this region and drive them back, otherwise we're going to spend days, if not weeks, trying to fight off multiple armies and losing men and supplies every time."
"I'm not a human being." is all Xanderghul says to Valaria's last outburst, following it up with, "And insulting me isn't an argument. Just because you hate me doesn't make you right."
"It's a turn of phrase, not a literal statement," Val says with a roll of her eyes. "No it doesn't, but that doesn't mean that my actual argument isn't valid."
"No." he says, "What makes your argument invalid is that you didn't listen to me." He waves a hand in her general direction while the other itches his scar. "Besides, it's relevant. You're insulting me for thinking differently than you do."
"I'm insulting you because you're suggesting that tyranny is a moral decision right in front of me and I'm offended. I left Cheliax to get away from that kind of thinking and now on the far side of the continent six decades later and I have to listen to it again. From someone who I thought was my friend no less!"
"Do you do yoga?" asks Xanderghul, a mischievous smile spreading over his face.
Another eye roll. "Does this diversion have a point?"
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Xanderghul's grin breaks out into a full-on smile, and he laughs as he tells his joke, "Because boy, was that a stretch!"
He spends about 25 seconds laughing, before he looks up and asks, "Tyranny? What in the Nine Hells? I'm talking about self-determination and sticking with your values!"
"No. My parents," Kari murmurs. She follows Anevia's finger to Valaria and Isilme and frowns for a moment. "Gold one? Who's... oh. I'd say that's more of a dullish orange, but okay." She sighs.
Graffin answers, "I don't know what happened to the Ford, Commander Andora split off from us awhile's back... We left our encampment together then split ways. They had lots of men, though. I can only imagine they were successful. Then again, Hormond spoke of this place like it was easy pickings, so who knows."
"Warlord Brae-Hagen's group is mostly demons... dretches and schir. The cultists there though... they're planning on some elaborate ritual. They plan to tear open a rift into the Abyss and summon a bunch of abyssal dragons to ride. Then it'll be easy to keep tabs on our holdings. But there's some kind of stone they need to mine first, before they can complete the ritual."
"I wouldn't f$*+ with Brae-Hagen though. They say he's half-balor."
Brae-Hagen is a powerful magus, known for weaving spells with devastating attacks using his shortspear.
Isilme skips the argument, knowing that there was little to be gained in arguing the situation.
"If this is true, we have no choice but to move quickly. This is not a 'secure the region' situation. This is significantly worse. Having abyssal dragons at their disposal would allow them to strike at us with relative impunity."
Standing up, she turns and heads for the clan-lieges, catching up to them as quickly as she can.
"Arglwyddi clan, os gwelwch yn dda gwrando am eiliad. Yr un a enwir Graffin wedi rhoi gwybod i ni y bydd cyfran o'r prif ran y fyddin oedd yn dwyn y pennawd gogledd yn dychwelyd yn ôl yma. Maent yn bwriadu defnyddio chi a'ch tref i roi iddynt fwyd, ac yn bwriadu atgyfnerthu'r dref unwaith y byddant yn ei gymryd. Mae hyn yn cyd-fynd yn dda gyda hyn y mae ein sgowtiaid wedi gweld, a'r hyn y mae'r carcharorion eraill wrthym, fel dogn helaeth o'r fyddin dan y pennawd i fyny i'r gogledd i sicrhau rhyd Vilareth a'r castell i fyny i'r gogledd. Rhyw ran ohonynt yn cael eu harwain i'r hen fwynglawdd halen yno cyn dychwelyd yma. Hyd yn oed yn waeth, wrth wneud hynny efallai y byddant yn gallu galw am ddreigiau demonic at eu cymorth. Pe na baem wedi cael gwybodaeth hwn, mae'n debygol na fyddem wedi gallu paratoi ar gyfer ail ymosodiad gan addolwyr Demon. Yr wyf yn gofyn i chi ystyried, o leiaf, rhoi Graffin arhosiad o'ch penderfyniad hyd nes y byddwn wedi amddiffyn yn erbyn y ymosodiad. Os, fel yr wyf yn amau, ei eiriau yn wir, gall dim ond wedi arbed llawer o'ch perthynas agosaf."
"You said that we have to be consistent. But the only way to do that is to ignore anybody else's beliefs and force them to do what I think it right. Which is tyranny. Which isn't morally acceptable. Which is what I've been saying the entire time. Self-determination doesn't mean anything if I force my beliefs on other people. Other people's self-determination matters just as much as ours."
Xanderghul drops the argument as well, contributing to the conversation about the enemy forces. Important things come first. "Sounds like we're dealing with rift drakes," says Xanderghul, taking a moment to explain their capabilities. "We don't want our enemy to be summoning a bunch of these, obviously." he says dryly.
"As for Brae-Hagen... He doesn't intimidate me. Am I supposed to be scared of the washed up son of a dead general? One who practices magic as a hobby alongside his formidable combat prowess wielding a stick with a pointy end?" Xanderghul shakes his head. "No, his death will just be the last embarrassment of a man never able to escape the shadow of his father."
Hinagiku watches as the Clan-Lieges leave the room, returning their nods. However, it does take her a few moments to understand that that are leaving the room to deliberate on the fate of the prisoners.
Turning back to her companions, she watches Xanderghul and Valaria argue, before the conversation changes to the state of the enemy army. She had hoped no one would promise better treatment for information... this would only show their prisoners that being useful would keep them alive, setting a path quite different to that of redemption. Not devling on the matter, Hinagiku listens to the others discussing strategy. She could not add much to the plan, just keeping up with details tended to overwhelm her. However, there were some things that were obvious, first, they were not numerous.
"Mr. Ehren, do you think there is any chances the warriors of Silvershore would join our troups? That might be the help we need to push back the invasion of theses lands."
"Rift drakes... those are the battle hungry ones, right? Really violent. They could be a problem if the summoning works. We're really not in a position to deal with squads of dragon riders." One eyebrow goes up. "Well, I suppose it's to our advantage that he's not going to be running to his father for help. But I wouldn't count anyone who has balor blood out of a fight."
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"Mmm, yeah. They spit acid balls, too. We really don't want these guys engaging our army. This is something we need to disrupt, or take out ourselves." Xanderghul blearily rubs his eye. "Just... not today. If it happens today, we're doomed. Sorry, world. I was too busy sleeping to save you."
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"No, that's foxy that's orange." She sas before tracking her eyes. "Errr. Is there something about aasimar that makes their hair change colors or is this one just not so good with them?" Anevia asks, whispering through the link.
She also snerks in response to Xanderghul's joke.
Ayavah anxiously stands there, well aware that her opinion on the matter had been beaten to death already, but still uncomfortable at seeing the group fight. She looks relieved when the group finally moves on to the matter at hand - the cultist armies still gathering to the north.
Meanwhile, the Clan-Lieges were in the middle of serious, hushed discussion when Isilme barged in...
"-ond y rhai a oedd yn rhedeg yn sicr i redeg eto - -- oh, Isilme, yw e? Beth ydyw sydd eu hangen arnoch?" says Clan-Liege Cothi.
The Clan-Lieges listen to Isilme's news with grave expressions.
"Mae'n ymddangos ein bod wedi dathlu cyn pryd," says Clan-Liege Arthugh with a sigh.
"Os oes unrhyw beth y gallwn ei wneud i helpu i ddileu pla hwn gan ein tiroedd, siarad, a byddwn yn dod," adds Piersym.
"Mewn unrhyw achos, yr wyf yn credu ein bod wedi dod i gasgliad. Dewch ymlaen," says Arthugh, using his staff to help him stand.
Clan-Liege Arthugh leads the other Kellid leaders out of the Clan Hall and back before the seven bound cultists.
"Rydym wedi dod i benderfyniad. Oherwydd eich diddordeb yn y carcharorion a bod eich apêl er mwyn rhoi cyfle iddynt ddangos eu gwir botensial, byddwn yn caniatáu i chi fynd â nhw i wasanaethu yn eich fyddin wrth i chi awydd. Os byddwch yn gwrthod, byddant yn cael eu lladd, ac eithrio ar gyfer y dyn a datgelu gwybodaeth am symudiadau y gelyn. Bydd yn cael ei farcio a'i anfon i ffwrdd i alltudiaeth."
The cultists frown, unable to comprehend, until finally one of their number - a dark-haired woman with an insectoid mandible protruding around her mouth says "He says they'll let us live. If we go with the crusaders."
"Oh, thank the gods." The cultists look visibly pleased. Kari smiles, her shoulders sagging with relief.
Külə huffs, standing up from where he is laying and trotting off towards the outskirts of town.
Meanwhile, back with the army...
As the heroes wrap up their first battle in defense of Silvershore, Ary is approached by Ser Ilivan of Erages, riding on his white steed.
"Commander," he salutes, his breath puffing in front of him in the cold northern air. "We're twenty minutes off from a large encampment of cultists. The encampment is large enough that I believe that the majority of the army has already left - tracks were found in the direction of Silvershore. We estimate at least a hundred total remain at the camp, mostly humanoids, but there are a few dozen schir among them, as well as a lone vrock flying overhead. Most troublingly... they appear to be positioned in defense of a set of large summoning circles that they are constructing in the center. The schir make it difficult to rely on invisibility to get closer to determine exactly what it is that they are trying to summon. Your orders?"
"It has to be prevented. This close to the wound, any lesser demons they'd have easy access to, especially with as much preparation as they've had time for. I figure this is something nasty that they've got planned." Ary says, looking towards the horizon that Ilivan had returned from. "I'd like to go around, so that we can get to the defense of Silvershore more quickly... but..." she pauses for a moment, "I have to have faith in my friends. Silvershore is only under attack by a roughly equal force, against locals who know the lay of the land. As long as they let one of the Kellids lead their own people, I've no doubt they'll be able to fight back and win."
She pauses again, "We'll go ahead and cure the soldier's fatigue, and then march forward. Spread the cavalry to either side to force the Schir to separate or lose their flanks." she says, nodding to Captains Cobelen and Halse respectively.
"Is there any terrain that our archers can take advantage of?" she asks of Ser Ilivan, knowing that he'd likely already noted if there was any nearby. "If not, keep to the back of the infantry, and regardless, focus on any enemy spellcasters you take note of. Wenduag, Lann, please go with Ser Ilivan. 'Belle, I'd like for you to come with me, and we'll try to engage the Vrock as soon as he engages us. The rest of you, I'd like to stick with your respective squads, you know your men's capabilities far better than I do."
Ser Ilivan shakes his head. "No, Commander. It's all flat from here until we approach the Wolf Hills that border Silvershore."
Wenduag frowns. "Commander, I can send some of my men to work with Ser Ilivan, but some of us will need to stay back to guard the prisoners. It seems..... imprudent to leave them unguarded. A battle may be the distraction they were waiting for to escape. I do not trust them as of yet."
Annabelle, meanwhile, isn't here. She is sitting in the wagon with Ledsa, awaiting Sosiel to come protect her against the morning sun. Ho hum.
Ary then looks over to Aron, "Any chance you've got any ideas that will let us take out the circles from afar while they're distracted, just to make sure they can't use them?"
"Soon, we'll be facing the enemy army that stands between us and Silvershore. Much of my army will be busy with that, and you will likely note an opportunity to escape. I would like to strongly suggest against doing so as I can only guarantee your safety for as long as you stay within my sight, and within the areas I've suggested you stay. Anywhere else, and you'll be treated as the enemy, and likely slain by archers. I would prefer to avoid any unnecessary deaths... so I've come to ask that you not try to flee. It's ultimately your life, and your choice, however."
The tieflings nod agreeably.
"Yes, Lady-Knight-Ma'am. We'll be good, ma'am."
"Wait," interrupts another. "So... you're unbinding us? Are you leaving us to be unarmed in the middle of a battlefield? We'll be slain instantly!"
"That sounds good to me as well, Wenduag. Like I said, you know your people better than I do. If you think it's better to send them with Ser Ilivan's men, then do so. Likewise if you'd like to keep an eye on the prisoners." she adds, offering a small smile.
Markus trudges up to Ary, reslendent as usual. This time, he wears a black peacoat over a red vest, and a black tie in the collar of the black and silver striped dress shirt underneath. He wears sensible leather boots, though, and a pair of bloody gloves hang from a belt loop. His lips are pressed into a line, but the look is determined rather than upset.
"Commander, I've instructed the clerics to spread the men out before channeling to remove their fatigue. Do you have any additional orders for me and my men? Do you need me for anything?
"Other than to use your wasps to disrupt the rituals as best you can, no. Anything else you're able to do, is at your discretion."
Markus bows his head. "Of course, Ary. Using the wasps instead of any soldiers is a smart move. Their loss is less important."
"I also think that I can cripple the enemies' ability to charge, and hopefully a portion of their army... but only if I can get within forty feet. Ideally, forty feet of the center of their forces, but that's a bit of a tall order." he explains, toying with his Crusaders' Cross. "Because of this, I think I should be near the front lines during this battle. I'll make sure to assign my clerics to different squads and leave their mid-battle decisions up to their own discretion, because I won't be able to effectively direct them if I'm to use all of my own resources to aid in the battle."
"That sounds good to me. Problem is, if you're within forty feet of their center, there's not really any reason for them to charge, is there? We'd practically be in the middle of the melee, yeah?"