In the shadow of night, Argor ushers forward four glowing white orbs to illuminate himself. "Argor Blakros. I am here to speak with Sir Preston."
In the shadow of night, Argor ushers forward four glowing white orbs to illuminate himself. "Argor Blakros. I am here to speak with Sir Preston."
"You don't look like Argor Blakros....The church is closed to visitors. I sense no evil in you, so I will tell you this, I haven't seen Sir Preston. If you return tomorrow we may be able to make inquiries. For now, please go home, the streets are not safe for the good citizens of Absalom tonight."
"If you are aware of my name, then surely you are aware of the fact that both mine and my companions appearance changes somewhat frequently. This is a matter of the utmost importance. I trust your High Priest has the means of knowing his location and requesting his presence?"
The paladin just gives Argor a stony look. "The church is closed, sir. Whatever mission brings you here can surely wait until tomorrow. I am under strict orders, and will not budge. Out of courtesy, I will repeat myself, I have not seen Sir Preston this night. As far as I know he is stationed in Mendev, fighting in the Worldwound."
Argor sighs. "Very well."
Turning to Cole, he says, "They'll be too busy to deal with him tonight. It will wait until dawn."
He then returns to the manor.
Cole appears suddenly at Tolvan's feet before he takes off. "Why don't we stop by the offices of the Varlokkur before returning to the Heights? Sir Preston seemed incensed about your position as a lawgiver."
===========
Cladissa looks out the window at the passing night, wondering how she got her time so twisted around. But she was secretly glad, considering the urgency of their task.
She lays the objects connecting her to her dear friend, and begins the ritual to locate the real Imrizade Blakros.
Cladissa feels the spell connect to Imrizade, though the connection is tenuous, as if at a massive distance. She sees only pitch black darkness.
Cladissa tries to cast message through the mirror. "Imri! It's Cladissa! Can you hear me?"
"Nice try. Isn't that one getting old? You can't trick me anymore."
"Oh. Um, that's, well... Huh. Maybe not unexpected. Look, just... believe me or don't, I don't have much time. What do you know about your whereabouts, so just in case I'm real, I can do something about getting you out of there. Okay?"
"Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me a thousand times...I just don't care. How is this still entertaining to you idiots? Wouldn't it be more fun to just torture me to death? Want me to beg again?...fine....please, just let me die...."
"Oh, for goodness' sake! I'm glad you're resisting, but I'd really like to rescue you, so give me a little help! We figured it out! The attack on Absalom failed, and we all feel really bad about not realizing it wasn't you. Argor nearly died! He lost control of the serum; it was bad for a time. So give me some clues here. I'm guessing the shadow plane, but I'm going to need a lot more."
"Fine, I'll play along, if it'll shut you up. You know I don't know where I am. I haven't seen a single thing since you took me. I don't even know how long I've been here. Months? Years? Decades? I'm in a very small and very dark box, where you put me. There, you know everything I do. Now f@#+ off. I was having a very pleasant fantasy of drowning myself with my own urine before you interrupted."
Cladissa's voice becomes very sad, losing its urgency. "It's been two months and eleven days. Being a part of your wedding was one of the happiest moments of my life, but that has been irrevocably tainted. I can only imagine what it's like for Argor. I don't tell you this to make you despair, but to let you know that there will be nothing in all the realms that will stop us from rescuing you."
As the sun rises over a battle weary Absalom, Argor stands patiently once more before the main doors into the Temple of Iomedae, awaiting audience with the High Priest and Sir Preston.
As Cladissa speaks her final words, she feels the scrying spell end suddenly. Such an abrupt end means that someone probably dispelled it from the other end.
With the most pressing issues attended to, the Freaks decide to get whatever rest they can with the rest of the night. A few hours after they settle down, the sun rises over the ruined city.
As the sun rises over a battle weary Absalom, Argor stands patiently once more before the main doors into the Temple of Iomedae, awaiting audience with the High Priest and Sir Preston.
The temple appears to have been turned into a temporary hospital. Clerics, angels and archons have wounded laid out in every available space, and are tending them under the watchful eyes of paladin guards. It takes Argor over an hour of frustrating red tape, showing his signet ring and waiting to see progressively higher ranking clergy until he is finally ushered into the waiting chamber outside the high priest's office. Genedair the Faithful emerges with the help of his two acolytes. The nonegenarian looks completely exhausted and can barely walk. Behind him is a tall muscular, bald, humanoid creature who has emerald skin and two pairs of shining, white-feathered wings. It wields a massive greatsword and looks like it will tolerate no trouble.
Argor recognizes the being as a powerful Planetar angel.
Genedair looks at Argor warily. "You look different from the last time I saw you, my lord Blakros. What is it that is so urgent you come demanding audience on such a dark dawn?"
"I need to speak with Sir Preston, and I would like you to witness the conversation. During the battle yesterday, some information came to light that left me a changed man, though the paladin likely does not know as such and may be acting in ways that would prove detrimental to the cities and her people's interests. He will not come for me, this I know. But a summons from you would not be ignored."
Genedair looks at Argor as if he were daft. "I assumed Cladissa would have told you...Sir Preston was called to serve in the fifth crusade a couple of weeks ago. He should be in Mendev by now commanding soldiers against the demons. I have not spoken to him since his departure. What makes you think he would be doing anything to harm the people of Absalom?"
"During the battle, some form of teleportation brought him back here. He fought alongside us for a large part of the fighting. I can assure you, he is here."
"That is surprising, but you still have not answered me fully. Why would a paladin of impeccable record like Sir Preston act against the people of this city? I warn you, speak truly or my friend here will know you false." Genedair motions to the planetar behind him.
"He is not aware his actions would do so. He thinks he is acting on their behalf, and had things not significantly changed last night, he would have been."
"Pardon my frankness, lord Blakros, but if you continue to spout riddles at me this meeting is over. I have no time for wordplay when innocent citizens are lying in droves below awaiting care. This is your final chance, explain yourself fully and clearly, or leave my temple at once!"
The acolytes look a bit taken aback at the man's tone, but quickly hide their surprise.
"Yesterday, at the final battle of the attack, my companions and I slew a demon-lord. In his consort was a shapechanger, a doppleganger to be precise, who had infiltrated our ranks by pretending to be Imrizade Blakros. Upon learning my 'wife' had been a spy for the terrorist organization this whole time, while the true Imrizade was their captive...it broke something inside me. I was in shock. A summoned creature of mine, a dinosaur, acted according to its nature in my stupor and killed the creature. The creature's act broke me completely, and I...well...to be frank...I devolved into an ooze-like-state. My companions endeavored to save me, and in so doing, managed to not only restore my mind and body, but also cleanse my soul. Scan me if you wish," he says as he holds his arms out to his sides.
"Sir Preston considers me a murderer, and in a way he might be right," Argor says forlornly. "But I am a new man, and I come here seeking his," he turns to the angel, "and the Realms of Heaven and Elysium's forgiveness. If he insists on pursuing legal action for the dispathment of a spy and traitor, so be it. But if he is willing to allow me to atone for my sin in private, then I can move on with the task that is far more important than my own legal defense, and that is the rescue of an innocent woman."
"However," Argor adds, "if he insists on his current stated course of action, he risks limiting my resources significantly, in both any efforts I may make towards her rescue, as well as any good I may do the people of this city with my newfound outlook on life."
The planetar speaks in a deep voice. "If evil tainted you, I would have killed you upon sight in this holy place. Your soul harbors no more darkness than any man."
Genedair nods. "The future of your position sounds like a matter for the Varlokkur and the legal system. I have no control over what the Varlokkur do with you, or frankly what Sir Preston does, so long as he does not violate his oaths or shirk his duties."
"Your soul is another matter. If you wish to cleanse your soul and conscious, I'm sure something could be worked out here at the temple. It would require a serious commitment to redemption. There is magic which could aid you in your quest to become righteous, but traditionally is accompanied by a quest to prove the dedication of the supplicant. You would also need to commit yourself to Iomedae in order for your atonement to be performed here. Such a thing should be well considered before it is attempted. In any case, I will not have time to deal with such matters until the city has returned to some semblance of normalcy. In the meantime I suggest that you think about whether you are truly ready to dedicate your life to good. If I hear from Sir Preston, I will tell him you were here; and if he allows, send a messenger to inform you of his presence. Now, you must excuse me, I have given you all the time I can at present." Genedair offers his hand for Argor to kiss.
The high priest shuffles slowly back into his modest office with the aid of his acolytes. The planetar gives Argor a nod and follows them in.
Argor offers the man a respectful kiss on the hand, given the man's station. He then makes his way from the temple. He flies to his office at the Sanctum, and begins the casting of a Sending spell to Preston.
::Sir Preston, we need to speak. I've spoken with Genedair. Meet with me at the Vault of Abadar? You can kill me if you must.::
::Hooosh dish?::
Realizing Sir Preston sounds drunk, he begins flying around the city in search of an intoxicated paladin.
_________
Cladissa will report to everyone about her contact with Imrizade. She'll want to make preparations for an excursion to the Plane of Shadow, but will put that on hold when she learns of the devastation that the invasion caused.
Cladissa then volunteers her time helping the wounded, preferably using medicines and bandages supplied by donors and hospitals, but when in a pinch she uses her own webbing.
Realizing Sir Preston sounds drunk, he begins flying around the city in search of an intoxicated paladin.
_________
[dice=Diplomacy (Gather Information)]1d20 + 25
Argor finds several drunk paladins, though none of them are Sir Preston. He quickly realizes that in a city this size, he's going to need a better strategy.
During the course of the next day more news emerges about the details of the attack. There were several firebombings around the city, and there is a growing pile of black dragon heads in front of the Grand Lodge. It appears Agrinixia sent a good deal of her children and relatives to aid in the attack. At last count there were fifteen of the foul things being subjected to the rubbish and curses of the passing populace.
Around noon a huge crowd gathers in front of Verde Heights, cheering and waving banners with messages of thanks. Word of the Freaks' heroics has clearly spread through the city. The crowd quickly takes on a celebratory mood, with bards appearing from the woodwork to sing tales of the Freaks' bravery and to entertain the crowd. Enterprising merchants set up temporary food stalls and small awnings from which to hawk miniature carvings of the Freaks and other frivolities.
Elsewhere in the city, mainly around the temples, there are vast crowds of mourners. The casualty numbers are in the hundreds and rising as more rescue work is carried out. Work crews have already begun clearing away rubble and starting the long work of rebuilding. There are too many bodies for the municipal graveyards so special mass burials are being arranged outside the city for the less well-off victims of the attack.
Argor sends out another message to Preston:
::A friend in need of finding you. Where are you currently located?::
::"Haim in da mud, frieghd. Wif a pig. In da Puddles. Hai don' haf any frieghds thou."::
Argor immediately sets off for the Puddles, looking for Sir Preston laying in the mud with a pig.
Argor is in luck. He begins a methodical search of the Puddles district, scanning from the air in a grid. After about an hour he spots a man in the mud next to a public house, amid the establishment's supply of pork on the hoof. Upon closer inspection he discovers it is indeed a very dirty Sir Preston. There is an empty bottle in his right hand, an almost empty bottle in his left hand, and a third empty bottle between his legs. He appears to be passed out at the moment. A rather large sow lying on her side forms his pillow.
Argor lands outside of the pig pen, and calls out, "Sir Preston, can you hear me?"
Argor will use his mage's hand to give the sow's tail a tug in order to startle it awake and force Sir Preston to waken.
"Sir Preston, I would like a word with you, if you do not mind. It is something of dire importance."
He will begin using his prestidigitations to cleanse the man's attire to their usual resplendent state as best he can if and when the paladin begins to emerge from the pig sty.
He wakes, looking bleary. He is not wearing his armor, and is armed with only his longsword. His clothes are plain workman's attire. He struggles to make out Argor's face as his eyes refuse to focus. "Huu're ewe?"
"A friend," Argor says. "Come. Let us get you sobered up so we can talk."
Argor will then lead Sir Preston to a carriage, which he hires to take them to the Temple of Abadar.