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Thanks to Auronee's kind words, Sabrina manages to pull herself together quickly enough despite her failed efforts to find Gianluca.
Then a thought hits her like an anvil to the head.
"Wasn't Cladissa's proposal today? And wasn't Argor supposed to be there to publicly throw his support behind her? And wasn't I supposed to be there to correct any nonsense that might've happened? And didn't I just derail those plans?"
Turkey sticks her head in through a nearby window and utters a scree in agreement.
"I should go explain why we weren't there, shouldn't I? Or apologize. Well, regardless, I'm sure it went well."
After bugging Argor's staff for her friend's whereabouts, Sabrina learns that Cladissa is sulking in her room as if a demon ate Cole. It does not take a world-class intellect like Argor to figure out what happened.
Bokrug's Beard! What else have I ruined today?!
Yig's Champion sighs and hesitantly knocks on Cladissa's door.
"Classy? Anything I can do to help?" the bride of Hastur asks carefully. Obviously, "Are you okay?" would be a redundant question to ask.
After several minutes of lingering silence, Cole opens to door for Sabrina. He meows once at the druid and dashes back to Cladissa's lap. She's sitting in a darkened corner of her room, slouched and staring vacantly ahead. Her tail is coiled around a half-filled wine glass and is slowly swirling its contents.
Red-rimmed eyes look up at her after a moment. "Sabrina?" She looks at her drink and then back to her. "One head. I'm not seeing double, I'm seeing only one head!"
She giggles drunkenly, then her eyes work to focus on Sabrina. "So, how was your day?"
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...Glad to see that either I was wrong about Cole or that he saw merit in my remarks, thinks Sabrina upon seeing the Agathion trying to comfort his friend.
"I've also lost a few hundred pounds!" says Sabrina with a chuckle. "As for my day, it was exhausting. We can talk about it if you'd like. Alternatively, if you want, we can talk about something on your mind, Classy. You just seem like you could use some company. Well, bipedal company."
Sabrina gives Cole a thumbs up.
Cladissa's face grows dark, her bitter mirth drowned in a haunted countenance. Her burning eyes peer at Sabrina from the depths of loss and defeat.
With a flick of her tail, the wine glass sails across the room and shatters against the back wall.
"I was tricked. Led into a trap. Exposed as this," she rises and gestures at her body, tail coiling and wings spread.
"It's over. I failed, and everything's worse."
She brushes past Sabrina and walks over to a table where a long sword rests. She stops and studies it, running her fingers along its edge. "And Iomedae won't talk to me."
"Then what's the point?" she hisses as she throws up her hands. "I'm clueless. I'm lost. I have no idea what I'm doing; everything I do becomes a wreck. I thought having a divine patron would give me... something."
She uses the table to hold herself up but her head hangs limp, her hair cascading down over the weapon displayed there. "No. I'm not going to have a crisis of faith on my second day as an Iomedaean."
There's a lengthy silence after Cladissa slowly lowers herself down to her knees and leans her forehead against the makeshift altar. "Sabrina," she says after another moment, "don't feel bad about not being there today. It wasn't pretty. Just... go. If you see Argor, tell him I still appreciate his help."
"You know he'd have been there to help, if he felt it would have," a woman's voice says from the doorway. Imrizade takes a few steps into the room, an empty crystal glass in her hand. "Sorry for eavesdropping, but I noticed a bottle of fifty year old Galdurian missing and decided to track it down."
She pours herself a bit and has a seat on the bed, taking a sip. She puts a comforting hand on Cladissa's shoulder, "I didn't hear everything, but enough to take it things went very, very poorly?"
Cladissa can't muster the energy to lift her head up. She tries to find some levity but falls short. "You could say so. I don't-- I don't want to even think about it. It hurts. Everything, it's all gone."
She trembles and she grabs at the table to steady herself. "I banked everything on this. My reputation is ruined. I'll be a pariah. And it would have been worth it if only the reforms had passed."
Imrizade tries to soothe Cladissa by gently rubbing her hand across her back, trying to avoid bumping into her wings, "Change takes time, especially change as big as what you were proposing. It was an ambitious measure, to say the least. No offense, but I'm surprised it got as far as it did. You know how long slavery has been a normal part of Absalom?"
She pats her on the shoulder and stands, "Come over here. Sit in the floor in front of me and let me braid your hair. My mother always did this for me when I was upset, and it was amazingly relaxing." Imrizade steps over to a chair and sits, dropping a pillow on the floor in front of her feet.
Cladissa pushes herself up to move in front of Imrizade, intrigued by the gesture. "My old hair could break combs. My mother, well, she would tell me of the great man that she would find for me to marry." She closes her eyes as the Lady Blakros's fingers separate the silky strands, discovering that the sensation was truly pleasant.
"She would tell me of the strong children I would have with him, and how Father's legacy would be restored once Galt becomes peaceful again," she continues. "It... was comforting, it its way."
Imrizade smiles to herself at Cladissa's words. "Marrying and having children has always been an important role for the women in my family, too. Had it been up to my parents..." Imrizade trails off.
She continues her work on Cladissa's hair, adding "I know Argor wasn't the most prestigious of suitors, but he caught my eye, and whatever he said to Aunt Hamaria must have made an impression. But I wouldn't have had it any other way, if it were left up to me. He's always tried to do what is best for us, to make our lives better. and he's never done anything to harm me, though he did scare me last night when...well, I'm sure you both know how disturbing it can be. I just hope...hope it doesn't..."
Cladissa reaches behind her and gives Imri's knee a squeeze. "Argor's not going anywhere. I'm the one who gets her throat ripped out. And paralyzed. Poor Bentley got flayed and decapitated. Argor just... nothing bad happens to him. He's got the serum figured out; I'm sure it's just a small setback for him."
Imrizade shakes her head, "Oh, I'm not worried about him, like that. He's made it perfectly clear," she pauses before acting all stern and emotionless, "I'm going to live forever!" she adds in her best Argor impersonation, before giggling.
"But no, the serum...it got the better of him this time. It was horrific to watch. Have you...have you not seen him since last night?"
"No, I was... busy." The bitter despair threatened to seize her again, seemingly grown stronger in the few moments that she was able to distract herself from it. She doubles over, clutching at her stomach for a moment while she tries to collect herself.
"Sorry. No, but Reginald told me he had an episode with the serum when he turned me away from your wing. So, he's different from before? He didn't regrow his... carapace, did he?"
She absentmindedly rubs the hooves that are her feet now.
"Carapace? No...nothing like that. You'll just have to see," I rizade replies, obviously confused by the carapace remark. "But yeah, it's not him I'm worried about," she adds as she absentmindedly rubs her own stomach.
"Not him? Then who? Everyone else seems pretty good with their mutations. Even Sabrina's back to looking like she did before the injection. I'm only like this because of what the demons did to me. There really hasn't been anything major since Nyug's explosion."
Imrizade, realizing that she is subconsciously superimposing her own concerns over Cladissa's stressful turn of events, quickly changes the subject, "Oh, just being silly is all. So how are things with Sir Preston? Is he taking you to the festivities this week?"
A surge of the old giddiness rises and quickly dies. She deflates once more with a sigh. "Probably not. It's probably best that I'm not seen with him. Or with anyone, really. Not after this morning."
Imrizade gives Cladissa's hair a playful tug, "Oh, shush. You HAVE to attend the Passions! They can be such a blast! It will be the perfect thing to take your mind off of this whole mess. In fact, come on, girls!" Imrizade says as she finishes her braid work and stands, "We're going to find you both the perfect dresses for the big event! We'll show them that they are messing with the wrong woman when they cross Cladissa!"
She picks up her wine and steps to the door, turning back, "Come on! Up and at 'em!"
The thought of going out into public and pretending made her sick to her stomach, which suddenly pitched and roiled with the wine she'd consumed earlier. "No, I can't!" she cries as she hugs herself tight.
"Don't you get it? Roald was there! He told the council I raped him! That I was tainted by the demons! And then they took away my illusion, and saw me like this! They believed him! It was horrible! I can't go out in public, not like this!"
She pulls away, shaking her head vehemently. "Imri, Sab, thank you for trying but it's worse, worse than you could imagine. Just... just let me be alone for a while."
Imrizade sighs and shrugs, "Okay. I was just trying to help. I have something to attend to anyway. Have a good evening, ladies," she replies before heading off back through the house.
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Something about Sabrina and Imri's conversation causes the High Priestess of Yig to fall quiet.
"I'll respect your wishes," Sabrina says after a long time of silence. Before departing, the druidess adds, "If you need anything, just let me know, Cladissa. I'm here for you."
She then takes her leave.
"Argor, do you have a moment? It's about... yesterday."
Damnit woman. Can a man study his new tomes on Astral Prjoection, Gateways to Outter Planes, and the Thermodynamics of the Plane of Fire in peace?
Or knock?
Argor folds his hands over one of his new books and replies, "Certainly."
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"...Oh, you were reading. Uh, sorry. Someone left the door open, so I thought..." Sabrina stops herself in mid-ramble and continues, "So, uh, given how crazy that whole situation was, what exactly did you end up reporting to you superiors?"
Given the nature of the subject, Sabrina quietly closes the door to ensure privacy.
Argor looks at her with a perplexed expression, "I reported that a dangerous Cult of Hastur was located within the city. During my initial investigation, their presence was confirmed, and they became hostile upon attempted apprehension, choosing to fight to the death rather than surrender. To the best of my knowledge, the entirety of the cult was eradicated."
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Sabrina nods in understanding.
"Sorry if that was a silly question, but I was genuinely curious how exactly you would report such a thing," the druidess replies with a light smile. Argor can tell that she is being truthful there. "Anyway, I just wanted to follow up about yesterday. In particular, I want to know where we stand. You did learn some rather... heavy things about me."
"I did. I learned that you trust me, and that, in turn, I can trust you," Argor says bluntly. "Everything else is inconsequential. It would be wrong for me to judge you and allow your choices in the past, choices that had no impact on me, to negatively impact our relationship. Wouldn't you agree?"
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Sabrina studies Argor for a long time and then nods in agreement.
"In the spirit of that trust, if you ever want to know anything else about... Hasturia, please ask. While I am 99% you know everything now, I am working on hazy memories, and I was barely in my right mind yesterday, so... there might've been something that slipped through the cracks. While I'm sure all the details were revealed, it's just... maybe something was not as clearly stated as you would've wished, and I don't want you to think the worst if it does get said later."
"Understood. Was there anything else on your mind, Ms. Henderson?" he asks.
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"...There is. I want to apologize if I've ever... come across as shunning you," Yig's Champion admits uncharacteristically sheepishly. "When I was still settling in, I learned about a... past event that happened between you and Cladissa. Given my... history, I was... worried about you learning more about me and... well, something similar happening between us, and it incorrectly colored my perceptions. After everything you've done for me, it's become quite clear that I was... wrong to think that way."
Argor closes the book in front of him.
"Yes. That. It was a vengeful prank gone awry, in response to an insult leveled at me. It was small and petty, and I often wish I had handled things differently, even if just the slightest amount. But the past is the past. I have tried, on more than one occasion, to make amends, mostly unsuccessfully. Ever since Gianluca's, well, let us call it what it was, his rude assessment of my character based entirely on a divination. There was likely a reason the mage empires of old did not consider divination a true school of magic. But I digress. Cladissa's and my relationship are like the tides of the Inner Sea, it has highs and lows. It has become more and more evident to me that any further reparations I try to make to amend our relationship are for naught, and my time and focus will better be served elsewhere. I still am as cordial as is appropriate to her, and offer her assistance in her endeavors, but I have deduced it to be folly to expend too much of my time and energies in attempting to rebuild that trust."
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Sabrina nods in understanding and thinks over what to say next.
"I think she's more willing to bury the hatchet than you may believe. That said, I understand why you settled on this approach. I'm... trying to support her as best I can too. I suppose we'll see how the dominos ultimately fall."
Yig's Champion thinks things over before nodding.
"I suppose that's it, Argor. Again, thank you for your assistance yesterday. If there's nothing else, I'll leave you to your reading."
Sabrina gives the Wordy Wizard a kind smile of gratitude and takes her leave.
Cladissa remained in her room the rest of the night and well into the morning, wallowing in grief and self-pity. Cole managed to distract her with teaching her some new magic spells, but even that didn't last long.
Grabbing and tugging at the unfamiliar braid that Imrizade left in her hair from last night, Cladissa ventures out from her room late in the morning to finally put some food into her stomach. She couldn't bring herself to raise her illusion, even though she moves through the estate shoulders hunched and mindful of the stares from the servant staff.
She finds a quiet corner in the kitchen and eats slowly, still not having much of an appetite but forcing herself anyway. Ms. Fecht appears and begins doting on her, and though she tries to appear grateful, Cladissa still was not in the mood to be comforted.
She eventually returns to her room and crawls back under the covers of her bed.
The sun was still shining but from a different position in the sky when she is awoken by a knock on her door. She rises to Ms. Fecht telling her that Sir Preston had returned.
A little life returns to her and she quickly throws on a robe as she rises. She hurries downstairs to see him.
Her rekindled hope fades as she sees him. He stands in the entrance foyer rigidly. His face was lined and gray, jaw set tightly as if he had taken a knife wound and was trying to hide it.
Cladissa begins to tremble. "What?" she asks, though she was terrified of his answer.
"Cladissa," he begins stiffly, but his voice breaks and he has to swallow. He closes his eyes, not able to look at her. "I'm being sent back to Mendev."
The news paralyzes Cladissa. Every fiber of her being suddenly wars with each other over whether to scream, break down, wail, or simply explode in absolute despondency. The result was a mental paralysis that had her locked and staring incredulously at Sir Preston.
Only when a familiar-looking squirrel falls from a tree does her apoplexy break.
She blinks eyes that had already run out of tears. "Why?" is all she manages to squeak out.
Preston's voice sounds bitter and hoarse from yelling. Speaking like he is quoting someone else, he says, "'Given the ever-present threats that succubi represent when combating demonic influence, it sends the wrong message to new recruits to have a training captain in a relationship with one -- or someone who appears as one.'" He shakes his head and slumps helplessly. "I'm sorry. This is the last thing you need right now. I tried, I tried. Please believe me. I tried."
Cladissa staggers under the crushing weight of this latest blow. She squeezes her eyes shut and hugs her shoulders as she begins to sink down.
Preston steps forward and tries to take her in his arms but she shrugs him off violently. she screams suddenly at the top of her lungs.
She begins pacing frantically. "It's all, 'get used to it, Cladissa,' or 'embrace it, Cladissa, don't let the demons win.' Well they bloody well have!!!"
Her rage shifts instantly into desperation and she grabs Sir Preston by the tunic, leaning into him pleadingly. "Say no. Stay with me. Don't go. You can refuse, right? Just tell them you won't go?"
Preston's face is anguished as he places his hands over hers. "Cladissa, I've sworn an oath. Oaths. To Mendev, to the Crusade, to my soldiers. To Iomedae. I can't forsake them."
Cladissa finds new tears as they begin streaming down her face. "And what of your oaths to me?"
"They wouldn't be worth anything if I was willing to break my word."
Cladissa buries her face in his chest and sobs.
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The squirrel continues to helplessly watch Cladissa suffer and suddenly feels a strange sensation in her chest. A pain, but not... personal pain. A pain for... someone else.
Perhaps for the first time in decades.
She looks to the sky and frowns.
She probably swore an oath of loyalty to you. She's destroyed countless Evils. She just tried to improve the lives of hundreds, if not thousands of people. Is that not enough for you, Inheritor? You see it fit to let me live and even prosper, but Cladissa is worthy of no help?!
The random, selfish little squirrel angrily grasps the dirt beneath her paws.
This is why. This is exactly why I almost destroyed this broken system. He might've had other plans, but my intention was to make a world where Good people like Cladissa wouldn't suffer so... needlessly.
Cladissa's sobs fade, and for a while she just lets Sir Preston holds her. She lifts her head eventually and wipes her eyes.
"Okay, hang on. I learned a new trick." She grabs onto the paladin and readies a spell, but interrupts herself.
"No, wait. I should be better dressed for this. And I'll need my sword. Cole would probably help, too." She points a finger at him. "Don't go anywhere." She turns around and starts toward her room.
Preston looks uncertain, but relents. "Cladissa, I've tried. The decision's been made."
She spins while walking and bites back, "Have I anything to lose at this point?"
Cladissa runs back to the waiting paladin, Cole dashing alongside her and the longsword slapping against her thigh. She again doesn't bother to put up her illusion.
"Now, I've never tried this, so, just... hold on. I'm sure it'll work." She gulps anyway as she pictures the confessional within the Seventh Church, then casts her spell.
She blinks as she looks around at the interior of the peaceful chamber, the spell having worked. "Piece of cake." Whew.
She grabs Sir Preston's hand and tugs him toward the door. "Let's go see the priest."
Cladissa and a somewhat reluctant Sir Preston (and a squirrel hitchhiker) step from the confessional and into the interior sanctum of the Seventh Church. Several acolytes and other petitioners turn their heads at their sudden appearance, eyes going wide. As Cladissa begins to follow the same route they took to reach the cathedral's interior, Preston grabs her arm and pulls her into an alcove.
"Has it occurred to you that you're more likely to get a sword through your gut than anything else walking around like that?" he asks in an urgent whisper, gesturing at her demonic form.
She pulls her arm free. "I'm seeing the priest. Nothing's going to stop me. Now are you with me?" She turns toward the main chamber to see a number of acolytes about to confront her. The ring of longswords leaving their sheathes echoes in the high-vaulted ceilings. "I just need to have a talk with Genedair," Cladissa announces to the nervous priests, then begins striding deeper into the cathedral.
"How dare you taint these halls, fiend!" shouts one of the bolder acolytes. He raises his sword above his head as he begins to rush her.
With a glare from Cladissa, the acolyte who spoke collapses before he takes a step, snoozing peacefully. Another comes up from the side and tries bring his sword down on her in a wide, vicious arc. The sword is suddenly deflected by Preston's forearm, the blade ringing off his vambrace.
"I can't believe I'm actually assaulting the Seventh Church," Sir Preston mutters as he blocks another blow and twists the longsword from the assailant's grip.
Cladissa sidesteps one swing, then levels her hex at him. The man collapses to the ground, snoozing quietly. "This wasn't how I was expecting my first days as an Iomedaean to go either," she responds.
A fair-haired woman, clad in unadorned but serviceable armor, appears with sword and shield at the ready. Calling out to Iomedae to smite the demonic intruder, her sword blazes in holy power but fades when it's leveled at Cladissa.
"Not. Evil." the witch responds as the sword smacks her in the shoulder, though the attack's promised energy fails to discharge against her and what would have been a nasty wound for an evil creature, for Cladissa it turned out to be a minor scratch. Yet another shouts a loud challenge with his sword raised. His charge is unceremoniously ended when Cole materializes in front of him and his boot catches on the silvanshee sending him sprawling.
With a diving tackle, Sir Preston throws her assailant off while Cladissa sends another hex at one of the acolytes moving to wake someone else. He joins the other in dreamland, then Cladissa turns to run toward one of the vaulted archways. Touching her holy symbol at her neck, she whispers the words she heard the day before that allows her to bypass the magical wards placed across the threshold. "Blessed is the Inheritor, who is my honor and strength." She steps through unharmed, then turns to stick her tongue out at the acolytes trying to regroup and wake up. She taps the holy symbol resting on her breast, then moves further in the cathedral.
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Unnoticed during all of the chaos, the random squirrel tightly grips the fabric of Sir Preston's backpack and peaks her tiny head. For a moment, she considers revealing herself to assist Cladissa and Sir Preston, but she finds it difficult to overcome her natural reservations about fighting the dedicated followers of perhaps the most active Good deity. Lacking nonlethal means to fight them only further complicates matters...
Perhaps if Sir Preston and Cladissa really need the help of a random squirrel...
However, they seem to have the situation under control, so...
The random squirrel continues to watch.
Cladissa sprints down the hallways, making several turns until she finds herself in Genedair's inner sanctum. The wizened old cleric is sitting at a bench with a bowl of soup. His shaking hand bringing the ladle up to his mouth for a noisy slurp doesn't pause at her sudden appearance. His eyes flick in her direction, giving her an expression that shows he was not surprised to see her.
She steps in front of him, hands balled into fists, trembling. "Sir Preston stays," she tells him.
Genedair the Faithful arches an eyebrow as he sets down his spoon. "Oh? And when did you touch the Starstone and gain divinity such to change the will of Iomedae?"
Cladissa shakes her head. "Don't give me that. You're scared of the demons, and sending him away is the easiest thing you can think of." She dares to smirk.
Genedair gives her a look that unsettles her. "No. I didn't want to do this. But it is the will of Iomedae. And as you have sworn to her service, so too must you accept this."
"Her will?!?" Cladissa asks incredulously as the sanctum begins filling with guards, paladins and clerics with longswords at the ready. "I just swore myself to her and this is her thanks? To send away the one man I'm beginning to love?"
The old priest waves his hand, which causes all those brandishing longswords to relax somewhat. Then he levels his gaze at Cladissa. "I warned you about this. I asked you directly. Were you swearing yourself to Iomedae for her sake, or were you simply trying to gain the favor of a suitor?"
She falters. "I-- I-- It shouldn't matter. It's done."
"Oh, but it does matter. Very much so. You've sworn to trust Iomedae. Can you? Will you do what she requires of you? Even if that means letting Sir Preston go?"
Cladissa sees herself losing this argument, so she desperately tries to change tactics. "But there has to be another way! He's being transferred because of how I look! I can change! I can look however I want!" She punctuates that by summoning up her old catfolk look.
Genedair shakes his head. "The knowledge is out. Enough will know that beneath the vision of Cladissa lurks that of a demon."
She squeezes her eyes tight, hating this debate. "But I didn't do this! Not on purpose! Demons made me this way!"
Genedair's face becomes sympathetic. "I know. But again, this is Iomedae's will. You must abide by it, just as Sir Preston must. She is a goddess who tests her faithful. You must demonstrate that your devotion to her is greater than your devotion to him."
The eyes on Cladissa become too much, and she turns to look at the array of people crowded in and just outside the sanctum. She sees Sir Preston, face lined with concern. A few others also show empathy, but most seem ready to smite her then and there.
"Please," she says, turning back to Genedair. "There has to be another way. To be both? To keep him and stay true to Iomedae? What would you have me do?"
The old priest just looks at her sadly.
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The random squirrel tumbles out of Sir Preston's backpack.
She starts to indignantly chitter at the assembled servants of Iomedae; however, after a few seconds, she realizes that no one speaks Squirrel. As such, Squirrelina shifts back into Sabrina and stands.
"Enough!"
Yig's Champion starts to channel her inner Argor Blakros.
"I can't believe what I'm hearing! Iomedae's will? Iomedae's will?! Did The Inheritor herself descend from Heaven and personally issue the order to send Sir Preston back to the demon pits? What nonsense! It was probably someone in this room who made the decision and then just labeled it 'Iomedae's will' to shut down any argument!
"If her appearance means so much to everyone, is there nothing here that can help Cladissa change it? In the seat of Iomedae's power? Within spitting distance of where your goddess ascended? I understand that Iomedae is limited in acting directly, but that's why she has her earthbound agents. Surely someone here has some power or spell that can help Cladissa! By the Divines, you all can undo death itself but not help Cladissa?! From where I'm standing, it sounds like only Sir Preston has actually tried to help her!
"Cladissa swore her allegiance to your goddess; she committed entirely herself to your cause. Out of the kindness of her heart, Cladissa tried to improve the lives of hundreds, if not thousands of people who suffer a massive injustice every moment they live. And yet, the day after she took her oath, no, mere hours later, most of you saw it fit to just throw her to the buzzards! I thought Iomedae was the Goddess of Justice! How is that Justice?!"
Sabrina grits her teeth.
"If Cladissa is really the monster she was accused of being, why would she try to help so many people? Did it occur to anyone here that perhaps Roald was lying in order to preserve an Evil institution that benefits him? Cladissa here is the single most selfless, kind-hearted person I know; she would never do those Evil things Roald accused her of!
"Just like your goddess, Cladissa has faced and defeated countless Evils. She has done so much Good simply because it was always the right thing to do! And no matter how much opposition she faces, no matter what Evil tries to strike her down, Cladissa gets right back up and keeps going! I can't think of a better example of a servant of Iomedae!!!"
Having finished her Argorian rant, Sabrina silently glares at seemingly each and every individual in the room before settling on Sir Preston and Cladissa. Upon seeing them both, her expression softens considerably. Without saying another word, she quietly walks over to her fellow Pathfinder's side and, if allowed, tentatively but gently takes her hand as a sign of support.
::...You deserve so much better, Cladissa::
After recovering his senses from the last combat, Grommesson painfully shrinks down to his Blakros form within a few seconds. To avoid the butchered dinosaur he lingers behind a bookcase that contains an interesting tome of royal genealogies. Eventually, he follows Argor to meet Dreng and home to Verde Heights.
For the first couple of days, he secludes himself in his room. Even his meals are delivered to a closed door. He struggles with the blackouts when his life is threatened. He only admits his mother Anja who he describes his experiences as much as he can remember.
=======================================================================
Afterwards, Anja Blakros leaves a message for Argor Blakros to attend her at his earliest convenience. Eventually, he finds her in the sitting room in front of the fireplace sipping tea. She stands when he enters and offers her hand for him to kiss. "Ah. My dear Argor, thank you for meeting me and your generous hospitality in general."
Then, she settles back on the sofa. "My baby Grommesson has told me of his harrowing experience following you and your, um, Fr... fellow Pathfinders. He told me that my poor Grommesson becomes a huge ogre and blacks out when threatened. How can we cure him?"
The random squirrel tumbles out of Sir Preston's backpack.
She starts to indignantly chitter at the assembled servants of Iomedae; however, after a few seconds, she realizes that no one speaks Squirrel. As such, Squirrelina shifts back into Sabrina and stands.
"Enough!"
Yig's Champion starts to channel her inner Argor Blakros.
"I can't believe what I'm hearing! Iomedae's will? Iomedae's will?! Did The Inheritor herself descend from Heaven and personally issue the order to send Sir Preston back to the demon pits? What nonsense! It was probably someone in this room who made the decision and then just labeled it 'Iomedae's will' to shut down any argument!
"If her appearance means so much to everyone, is there nothing here that can help Cladissa change it? In the seat of Iomedae's power? Within spitting distance of where your goddess ascended? I understand that Iomedae is limited in acting directly, but that's why she has her earthbound agents. Surely someone here has some power or spell that can help Cladissa! By the Divines, you all can undo death itself but not help Cladissa?! From where I'm standing, it sounds like only Sir Preston has actually tried to help her!
"Cladissa swore her allegiance to your goddess; she committed entirely herself to your cause. Out of the kindness of her heart, Cladissa tried to improve the lives of hundreds, if not thousands of people who suffer a massive injustice every moment they live. And yet, the day after she took her oath, no, mere hours later, most of you saw it fit to just throw her to the buzzards! I thought Iomedae was the Goddess of Justice! How is that Justice?!"
Sabrina grits her teeth.
"If Cladissa is really the monster she was accused of being, why would she try to help so many people? Did it occur to anyone here that perhaps Roald was lying in order to preserve an Evil institution that benefits him? Cladissa here is the single most selfless, kind-hearted person I know; she would never do...
Genedair's normally calm demeanor shifts as anger rises in him. "Ms. Henderson, I presume?" The high priest doesn't allow Sabrina time to respond. "I am the high priest of Iomedae in Absalom. I am not in the habit of lying, nor do I allow random people to intrude into my office uninvited...Guards!"
A moment later, half a dozen veteran looking paladins stream into the room. They draw longswords and await orders from Genedair.
"Escort this interloper out of the temple, please. Then make sure that she does not return." The paladins close in with Sabrina warily. They apparently know the reputation of the Freaks already.
"Come along, miss. There's no need for trouble here," their captain says to Sabrina, his voice soothing.
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Yig's Champion glances briefly at Sir Preston and Cladissa and then closes her eyes and calms down.
::While fulfilling their wishes is rightfully expected, any deity who claims to be 'Good' should also provide for their followers and servants. Remember that Cladissa::
Sabrina lets go of Cladissa's hand and allows herself to be escorted away without further word.
Cladissa gasps and stands mute when Sabrina appears in her defense. She has a momentary fear that the opinionated druid would be struck down, but everyone in attendance pauses as she speaks.
Sabrina's speech brings a smile on her face, though deep in her gut her stomach sits uneasy. She could feel her resolve crack even as Sabrina heaps praise upon her; the cleric's words eating into her.
Cladissa accepts her defender's hand when she steps forward to stand next to her, but Sir Preston doesn't move. His head and eyes lower, his mouth moving in whispered words of prayer.
Then Genedair summons the guards. Cladissa gives Sabrina's hand a squeeze, then lets go. "Sabrina, please go with them. It'll be all right." ::Thank you. You tried, but, I think he may be right::
After Sabrina is escorted out and Genedair addresses her, Cladissa hangs her head. Fresh tears begin to fall. "I guess that's it, then, isn't it?"
She stands that way for several minutes, as the remaining acolytes and attendants slowly file out until it is just Genedair and Preston with her.
"You may say your goodbyes in the confessional, but Sir Preston must be on his way soon. My child, you may remain there as long as you like. If you truly accept the Inheritor's guidance, she will not lead you astray."
She nods, and sullenly follows the paladin back through the cathedral to where she and her passengers first arrived. When the door closes, they embrace fiercely.
"I can't-- I won't--" she tries to say as she pulls the brooch off her breast and pushes it into his hands. "I would have given you my heart," she finally whispers.
He pushes the brooch back to her. "This isn't the end, you know. I will follow Iomedae's guidance, and trust that she'll lead me back to you."
Cladissa looks at him, searching his face, memorizing each line and chiseled feature on his face and gazing deep into his eyes. "I'll be here. I'll trust her." She glances over to the image of the Inheritor. "She'll give me the strength to keep going."
He smiles, tears beginning to well in his eyes. "I know. As hard as this is, I'm so proud of you."
Cladissa kisses him fiercely, attacking him as her heart breaks. Their tears mix as they pour down their cheeks, making their passionate kisses taste salty. She squeezes against him, using hands, wings and tail to press her body against his. He responds, his strong hands exploring her soft, yielding body...