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"So your pure legion death squads here have been looking for us, and find us now with weapons drawn, because of who we are. The cleric of Norborger down below here was pretty anxious to kill us simply because of who we are not. You people need to make up your damn minds. We are here to help and we have been greeted with nothing but people and things promising to kill us for it. Were it not for the oath I took as an agent of the Pathfinder society, I'd just turn around and leave you all here to die in your filth and plague for your stupidity and arrogance."
Papasteve Cyrus lets his frustration get the better of him, but he does not draw his weapon. The words he spoke earlier ring in his mind as he prepares himself to fight for his life and the lives of his friends.
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"I must say," the old man begins, turning slowly to look at each of him companions and then back to the Pure Legion members before them. "I am very intrigued to see you before us, and also to know that you are already looking for us."
Adjusting his posture slightly, the old man seems oddly relaxed. "I can only assume you will want to imprison us now... but before we proceed those... inevitably violent events... would you be so kind as to tell us how you knew we were coming?"
"Call it a last request of a doomed man," Ibid laughs a little under his breath, but still genuinely want to know how the Pure Legion is already waiting for them.
"I can't put my finger on it, but it seems that everyone in the god forsaken country knows far more about our arrival than we do..." he sakes his head with a sigh, resigned to his fate that a fight to the death is surely coming.
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"Not gods forsaken," Lort corrects Ishbaad, "For the gods have not forsaken Rahdoum, it is Rahdoum who has forsaken them. That is no reason to let people suffer, though, when the gods are willing to help - before leaving once more."
Other than that brief insight, Lort lets the others do the talking.
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"Friends, there is no reason to fight. Our goals are the same... the protection of the fair people of Rahadoum. We only want to help, but as my friends say, we have been met with nothing but hostility.
"Why can we not just sit down over a beer and discuss how we will help your people? We shall do no proselytizing... We are not missionaries. We only want to help the poor suffering folks of this land. "
"I mean, really. Why cannot we just all get along?"
The Captain takes a towel to his pants, sopping up the tea as Masur shrinks away towards the back of the courtyard, teapot still in hand. "Well, quite simply, you've been betrayed by your own people. We already knew of your arrival due to this." the man says as he pulls a parchment from his pocket and tosses it at the feet of Lort.
The brown paper is embossed with wax containing the seal of someone surprising, as Cyrus can attest to.
Lort picks up the letter and reads it aloud. "The package you seek will be coming in through the sea tunnels. Use this ring to follow the book to them. The Shadow Lodge thanks you for your efforts."
"Conveniently, it came with this." the man says as he holds up his hand, showing a ring bearing the same emblem.
"Me and my men here are Pure Legionnaires. Surely, you cannot think that honeyed words will simply suffice. After killing off any holy men, the rest of you would have fetched me nearly 1,500 GP a head, though I'm sure I'd take 1,500 for the holy men as well, provided they left the country." the man says with a knowing smile.
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"So, it looks like you've got us between a rock and a hard place, Captain. However, your motivations sound less 'pure' than the name of your organization. It sounds like you are suggesting that we buy our way out of this, paying you and your Legionnaires to look the other way, while we slink out of the country, abandoning our mission of peace.
"It also sounds like we were set up, for motivations I know not why. However, I think it comes down to this, my friend. My half-orc friend and I will not simply lay down our arms and allow ourselves to be executed, nor do I expect that our friends would allow that to happen, either. So, apparently, you have a choice. Either you can get the hell out of our way, and let us complete our mission, or you can take up arms and try to capture us. The decision is yours, but do not believe that we will lose a moment's sleep over such as you. Attack us, and you face the consequences of that action.
"Make your decision. You fate is in your hands. Pray that you make the right choice, though I don't know who you would pray to. I know that the Accidental Hero guides my hand. Who guides yours?"
Gunari's hand goes to his rapier, as he summons the blessing of Cayden Cailean to enchant his armor and blade.
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Lort looks over the note and listens to the revelation that it was someone within the Pathfinders who betrayed the group to the Pure Legion.
"What?!" he cries, more angry than incredulous, "There will be a reckoning for this! Indeed there shall!"
The gigantic half-orc turns his attention back to the Captain, "And YOU! I was prepared to accept that you were the legitimate authority here and that you were in the right. But, some of your order have proved unreasonable and most inhospitable. Your actions here, looking the other way for money, prove that you are corrupt and not worthy of the office you hold. As such, I will shed not one tear - not one - if we are forced to spill your blood in order to pass.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is this: get out of our f%#*ing way before I carve through you like a scythe through wheat!"
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"Amenophaeus? And the Shadow Lodge? But... Why would they set us up like this? What purpose does this serve? That is the Sapphire Sage's seal on that paper!" Cyrus says incredulously, clutching his chest from the apparent betrayal. In a flash, his Wakizashi is in his hand, and a dark cloud passes over his face.
He pulls a book out of his pack that was given to him by his faction leader and throws it at the captain as hard as he can. While he doesn't have half the strength of his half-orc friend, his frustration and unnatural aim guides his throw true.
The spinning of the book end over end causes the book to flap open and closed as it passes through the air, fluttering like a wounded duck. It bounces off the captain's armor harmlessly.
"That ring he bears, that bears the emblem of the sapphire sage, is magically tied to this book. That is how they knew where we were. We were betrayed."
Cyrus seeths, murder in his eyes.
"You should have thought twice before dealing with the shadow lodge, fool captain. I will enjoy bringing your corrupt heart to my treasonous leader and throwing it at his feet."
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"Amenopheus!?" Amaranti cries, quite surprised of this revelation. "Cannot be! He good man! Not betray us!"
The wizened sage might no longer be the leader of his faction, but there was a time when Amaranti followed his lead. And any accusations of him betraying the Pathfinder are just absurd. Amaranti is a devout servant of Tahonikepsu, and he will defend the honor of the Scarab Sages. A red tint of anger rises on his cheeks, and his grip on his lance tightens.
"WHO SEND THIS LETTER!? Stand aside, captain of Pure Legion! We complete mission, then go back home and find who send letter. Stand aside, we not be stopped now!"
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"GO ON, LITTLE MORTAL. DRAW YOUR SWORD. I CANNOT WAIT TO TASTE YOUR LIVING FLESH!"
The great worm stretches upwards, staring the men of Pure Legion from the heights. It doesn't care about betrayals or missions, it only looks forward to feed. The thought of feasting on so many mortals makes the hundreds of tiny teeth twitch in its gaping mouth. But it knows it's masters will, and it will not attack without being ordered.
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The old man looks on in shock at learning of their betrayal. Of course it made sense to him after processing the revelation, but that did not stop it from stinging deeply and angering him beyond measure. "We have been betrayed," Ibid states the obvious and shakes his head in exasperation. "Our anger rises. We've already risked so much to help your people, only to learn that our struggles were a set up."
"Having learned that we have been betrayed," he says, tightening his grip on the longbow in hand. "We are not in a position to back down."
"Lower your own weapons and walk away. There is no need for us to fight this day, because you will die if our conversation escalates to that. We will find who betrayed us, and lay waste to anyone that attempts to stop us."
"Walk away and live," his eyes look coldly on at the Pure Legion soldiers, at that moment not caring if they flee or choose to die.
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Cyrus seeths while waiting for the corrupt pure legion to respond.
Amaranti must be right. Why would Amenopheus betray us? It cannot be. I've heard stories about Grandmaster Torch. His hand is in this for sure.
"If he doesn't give us the ring, I'll just cut it off his hand." Cyrus spits in response to Finarin and Lort.
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"Ha!" Lort does not doubt that his companion would do just that, "I would like to see that... but let us give him a chance to at least surrender the ring himself and get out of our way before it comes to that."
Lort holds his now even more massive greatsword easily in one hand, shifting it to the other as it casts a shadow over the captain's head.
The leader of this regiment of the Pure Legion looks flustered by the obvious overwhelming might of the Pathfinders, but he stoically maintains his stance. "Hmph... To think that such idiots believe that they can invade my country and demand things from me and my men." he mutters to himself before responding.
He pulls the ring from his finger and drops it onto the cobbles. "I see that the Society and you god-fearing heathens are hypocrites through and through. You invade a country bearing arms, resist lawful arrest and threaten to kill its citizens while claiming to be good."
The man spits at Lort's feet. "You lot are nothing more than hypocritical lapdogs. Claiming to uphold your god's ideals, but the Society has warped your minds if you think you are doing anything 'good.'" he snaps at you.
"Men! Gather 'round." he bellows. "Let us leave these hypocrites to their fate in the sands of Rahadoum. I'd rather they suffer from their folly than to be put to the blade by us. A slow death is worthwhile in this case."
The man sneers at Lort in particular. "I will be back with more men and if we find you, then I will declare the Pure Legion's judgment upon you and sever your head from your body."
With a yell, the Pure Legionnaires retreat from the Bey's castle, but not before the Commander puts his boot to the ring, crushing the golden jewelry underfoot with a burst of bright light.
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He pulls the ring from his finger and drops it onto the cobbles. "I see that the Society and you god-fearing heathens are hypocrites through and through. You invade a country bearing arms, resist lawful arrest and threaten to kill its citizens while claiming to be good."
Lort considers dismissing his enlarging spell, but figures it best to keep his imposing new size. "I cannot argue with your reasoning," Lort agrees, "But know that the innocents who suffer needlessly from the plague will suffer no longer. We are here to heal them and leave. We were hoping to avoid the Pure Legion, but one of our own betrayed us. He knew we would rather fight than be captured... so if you blame someone for this conflict, blame Amenopheus. We certainly will."
The big half-orc affects a salute and then pushes his way past the gate and trudges out into the desert. It is at least a minute or two before he even thinks to check to see if Agosa Agion is following them.
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"Regiment leader. You speak of invade. Does landing on your shore constitute .... an invasion? You speak of resisting lawful arrest? I broke no laws ... of men when my friends were shackled to be tried and found guilty without due process. Upholding my gods ideals. Ha you .... jest. What know you of gods or the gods we may or may not follow. Sir, it is you that are the hypocrite. Who sit here and hurl platitudes in your ... ignorance.
"I look forward to our meeting again, be it peaceful or not. And I wish you ... good day."
He turns to his companions once again, "It seems that we have a ... rat in our so called society. That it is not my own faction is a wonder. So now that we know ... what shall we do about it? And it seems that we have made a powerful enemy. One more powerful than ... we. Disrcetion is the better part of valor here. Proceeding, we need to keep a ... much lower profile. And for everyone's sake, hide any .... religious symbols lest anyone one in this gods-forsaken country not know who we are ... and why we are here."
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"Not invade, accept an invitation from one of your citizens. Resist lawful arrest? Since when is simply being on your shore unlawful? You had no cause to arrest us when you first found us, and only knew we were here because of the traitor from our organization. Even knowing that, you had no proof we were doing anything unlawful. Your laws say practicing religion is illegal, but you have no proof we did such, and as such, arrested us unlawfully."
"And for the record, I only threatened to kill you in self defense. Perhaps you don't care for such distinctions though, you obviously only care for the parts of your own law that suit you and your coin purse."
Cyrus walks through the room and into the heat of the countryside. Once outside he turns to his companions. "I never thought I would be so excited to meet plague victims. At least someone will be grateful we are here."
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"Whatever the harsh words you may have for us," Ibid calls after the Pure Legion soldiers as they leave the area. "At least no one died following our talk! We may see you again, maybe not, and we know not what will happen then, but at least no one died just now!"
"I'm thankful for that!" he finishes yelling, still holding his bow at the ready as if he doesn't trust that the soldiers are truly leaving, but is hopeful that further was averted.