Wiping the sweat from her brow, Alikia snaps her fingers effectivly dismissing the black tentacles. "That was an aggravating fight. Hopefully clearing this room will be worth it."
As the pit vanishes in front of her, Alikia wanders into the remains of the bedroom, toeing a few knocked over vials and various knick-knacks. "Let's make quick work of the trapped insect and come back to finish 'examining' this room."
After the quick fight with the Derakni, Alikia wanders back into the bedroom, picking through the hag and summoner's pockets.
Aladir returns to help Alikia search the room after the group puts down the Derakni.
Now that the area is cleared of foes, you take the time to search carefully for any items left behind that may be useful to the group. In the hag's room, you find a cache of items, as well as an amulet.
Searching the rest of the redoubt turns up nothing of interest.
After finding all that you can, the discussion turns to where to head to next. Arueshalae speaks about something she overheard when the hag and the woman first came to the redoubt.
"I overheard them having to report to a powerful man named Xanthir Vang. He is the leader of the Templars of the Ivory Labyrinth, and their head man in the World Wound." She points to the location on your map. "Do you wish me to come with you, or should I oversee getting the Bell back to Drezen?" she concludes.
Alikia nods at Arueshalae's statement, taking a moment to mark the location on their map. "If we are to face the leader of the demon-summoning cowards, we may need to stop at Drezen to resupply. Or at the very least improve some of our equipment." Flipping an errant piece of hair behind her shoulder, Alikia waits to hear what the others think.
Ezro nods to Alikia in agreement, "Agreed, perhaps a resupply is in order. The Templars of the Ivory Labyrinth also don't sound like a great bunch. Do we know anything about them? Or the Ivory Labyrinth for that matter?"
Looking around to the others, he sheathes his blade and shoulders his shield. Weaving some holy energies through the air he turns to Hyram and begins patching some of the wounds he received.
"My friend, perhaps closing some of these scratches before we begin the long trek would be a good plan, yes?"
After Ezro patches up the group, you all decide that it would probably be best to head back to Drezen to resupply, and learn about the Templars of the Ivory Labyrinth before heading to the location.
On the five day trip back to Drezen, Quinn is strangely silent. While he leads the way with Aladir, and takes his turn at watch during the rest times, he is not talkative at all but quite contemplative. At night, when asleep, he clutches Radiance tightly to his chest, and tosses and turns quite a lot at night, as if bothered by something.
Once in Drezen, Quinn turns to the group, "I have had a vision from Iomedae, I must speak to the Queen and Irabeth alone, and then will get back to you." He leaves, searching out the two leaders.
"Alikia, I needs speak with you about your parents. I have looked into your parent's past to try to find out what happened to them as a way of repaying you and your friends for helping me back in Kenabres, and have learned that they were assassinated while on a secret mission for the Riftwardens. The assassin was a powerful Blackfire Adept named Xanthir Vang, who currently leads the Templars of the Ivory Labyrinth. It’s unlikely that their remains still exist, but some of their belongings may still lie among Vang’s trophies and treasures. At the very least, defeating this powerful fiend might bring you some closure."
Once Quinn returns we should set out to find these Templars and get Alikia her mythic level some justice for her parents. Hyram says as their next quest presents itself.
"If it is Alikia's desire to seek out this Vang, then my bow will be there to aid her." he offers.
Turning his attention to Arueshalae, he considers for a moment, then he raises his thoughts to the group. "Maybe I'm totally off the mark in this belief, but I don't think it was a coincidence that we came across you when we did. As you told us when we first met you, you want to find a way to redeem yourself from what you once were. That you no longer believe you are evil, but you don't believe you are yet good, either. I, for my part, would like for you to continue forward with us. Maybe then we can help you to see what 'good' truly means."
"I would wish to come with you, if the others will accept that I am trying. Desna vision to me tells me that it is possible. I do not know when it will happen, but I will try. Thank you for believing that I am trying to change."
"You did much to prove yourself trustworthy, but sadly I still do not trust you fully." Ezro says apprehensively. "That said, you have proven yourself a useful asset for the time being. Since you seem keen on proving yourself, I would not be opposed to having you with us on our crusade. In time you may prove yourself."
Alikia watches with concern as Quinn excuses himself to meet with Irabeth and the Queen. "I hope everything is alright. We're here if you need us, Quinn." She states, patting the tiefling on his shoulder and offering him a reassuring smile.
As Aravashinal approaches Alikia offers the Riftwarden a large smile; she is obviously excited to speak with him with what she has found in the Worldwound since they last departed. The excitement is short lived, however when her birth parents are brought up. "They're dead?" she whispers, her smile twisting into a grimace. "I-i suppose I should have suspected as much." Alikia's face flushes as she fights back tears.
"What do we know about Vang? I have a lead, thanks to Arueshalae, with his current location along with the rest of the Templars. I would hate to go in with limited information on someone who has successfully assassinated veteran Riftwardens."
As Hyram, Aladir, Arueshalae, and Ezro all offer their aid, Alikia is unable to hold back tears anymore and begins to sob. "T-thank you." she wails, rubbing at her face in an attempt to stop the tears from their continuous flow. "I-i don't know what to say."
You don't have to say anything. I know you are not a believer, but The Inheritor will speak through all of us as we cleanse this land another foul creature and avenge your noble parents. Hyram offers as a way of comfort, but his words sound more like a call to arms.
You spend the afternoon resupplying, talking with Arueshalae, Aravashnial and others, as well as comforting Alikia and everyone wonders about Quinn.
Early in the evening you are summoned to the main hall of Drezen by Queen Galfrey. There you see the Queen, her guards, Quinn and another woman. This small woman is 5'2" and 115 pounds seemingly young with a plain face, she has copper red hair with flame-red highlights, brilliant emerald green eyes, and warm golden skin.
"My Lady Queen. I have received a vision from Iomedea, and I must give my sword and my extraordinary powers to this Paladin that stands before you" as he points to Aerianna.
Quinn then kneels, and holds Radiance out and a white nimbus comes from his person and enters the sword. When Aerianna takes the sword, the nimbus leaves the sword and is absorbed into her. Quinn then leaves, stopping by his companions and tells them, "Iomedae has another task for me. This woman, Aerianna, will take my place. Treat her as you would treat me." He then turns and leaves the room.
The plain-faced woman in the full plate mail of uncharacteristic design, a pattern that makes clear that its wearer is female, actually looks regretful at Quinn Blacktooth's words. Swallowing, she stands there in front of him, staring down at the intensely glowing sword with a stony expression as her hands move to her own swordbelt, unlimbering her own scabbarded blade. "This," she says in a low voice to Quinn, "is Gloomcutter, the sword of the paladin Herris Terrin, the paladin who saved me from myself. It is the sword with which I in turn have redeemed a dozen others, most importantly -- to me -- my first swordmistress Tala Mateev."
She swallows again, and hard, before bringing Quinn to his feet without yet accepting the blade he holds. "As I carry Radiance in your stead, so carry you Gloomcutter in mine." She holds out her blade to him, and as he grips Gloomcutter, she reaches out to take hold of Radiance. For several moments the tableau stands, her emerald eyes closing as the miraculous transfer takes place, and then she takes in a deep breath and releases her old sword. Briefly, she embraces Quinn before stepping back and clasping forearms. "For victory; for the heart."
She watches him step away and speak to the four he's been travelling and fighting with for so long, and as he moves away and out, Aerianna gives a respectful bow from her shoulders to the Queen before turning to move slowly over to the quartet. About her head still radiates a glow, an aurora of warm gold with copper, flame-red, and occasionally emerald filaments radiating out like holy fire. "Know that I did not wish for this," she says quietly. "But Quinn and I ... are both servants and swords of Iomedae. I am Aerianna Flametongue, the Silver Maiden."
The reluctant warrior first started down an evil path in her urgent rush to strike back at the demons that slew many of her family during the surge of attacks in 4710, but was redeemed by a paladin slain in the attempt to redeem both her and her swordmistress, turned away from a possible future of evils. After a short but intense period of religious scourging, she was dedicated to Iodemae, and has proven again and again she is in it to the end, for all her regret at the need. This is not something she's sought; it is not something she wants. On the other hand, her loyalty to Iomedae and to the success of the crusade against the demons of the Worldwound is unmistakeable, undeniable, unshakeable. Supposedly she is -- or was -- going to be married to a priestess of Iomedae, but what has happened to their relationship is apparently not a subject of gossip.
Most recently, she was part of the army the four of you led that retook Drezen, and has been lending her skills and abilities to help rebuild and light the city, working as women's healer and midwife when necessary, lending her strength to even the most mundane drudgery, the most base of necessary tasks.
"The Silver Maiden! Yes, I know of you! Your path has been...unconventional...but your dedication to the Inheritor is unquestionable. As far as wishes go...I would say that none of us wished for the attack on Kenabres that led to the five of us possessing the abilities that we now have, yet here we are. A wise man once told me that all who live to see such times wish they had not been, but that is not our decision to make. That all we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."
"I am Aladir; before the fall of Kenabres, I was a simple tracker and hunter in the wilds around the city. I was in the city, selling some of the meat and skins from my most recent hunt to those who had gathered for the celebration of Armasse, when the Storm King came. We all saw the great dragon Terendelev fall...in point of fact, Terendelev sacrificed her moment to defend herself from attack to save us. We were falling into the pit left by the initial attack, and she cast a spell on us to slow our fall, leaving herself open to attack." he said, pausing for a moment as the memory of the event, one he hadn't thought of for weeks, came flooding back.
After a momentary pause, he continued. "After everything that happened in Kenabres, we've kinda been a forward operating force for the Crusade's forces."
I also am a servant of Iomedae. We go where she leads us. Hyram remarks as if there is no need for further explanation. I am Hyram Grimstalk, a humble Inquisitor for The Inheritor.
With puffy eyes, Alikia surveys the new member of their rag-tag group. After a few moments, Alikia offers a tight smile and nod. "Well met Aerianna, I hope that you are prepared to see some strange occurrences." Flipping through her journal, the conjurer contemplates the woman's armor again. "Though I surmise that the horrors we potentially will face may pale in comparison in what you have already seen in Korvosa."
"I will be working on the forge, if anyone has need of me. Aladir, let me know if you need any enchantments added to your rapier." Offering the three Iomedaens a slight bow, Alikia stores her journal and retreats to her ongoing project.
Ezro frowns slightly at Quinn's news, "You will be missed out there old friend. I will be sure to come and visit and regale you with our tales whenever we return between outings. Knowing you will be here though to help defend the hearth does give me some relief."
Turning to the short, silver armored woman, Ezro inclines his head and gives a smile, "Welcome Lady Aerianna, and congratulations on being accepted by Radiance. I see that you wear your name rather aptly. We will be departing before too long I am sure. There is still much fight left in the Worldwound and Iomedea still has much to show us."
Watching Alikia leave, he says to the group as a whole, "I believe I will join her in the forge. There is something to be said in crafting an item of beauty and devotion after traveling through such destruction."
Ezro inclines his head to the others before heading out of the hall. He is sure to change into smithing garb before joining Alikia in the forge, "Is there anything that you need help with? If not, I have a few things in my mind."
"Oh Ezro! Yes, I could use a hand attempting to fix the forge again, if you don't mind. However if you had some suggestions for crafting, I would be more than happy to help you out." As she speaks, Alikia quickly gathers a mountain of papers that she had spread out over the forge. Straightening the papers into a pile, Alikia leaves only two schematics out of the stack, the first one a neatly compiled note about what they learned about the forge the last time to two half-elves had worked on it, and a schematic of her light crossbow labled sense 1.5.
Aerianna gives a shy little smile at Aladir's enthusiastic recognition of her. "Well, it's past time this" -- and here she gestures west and southwards, suggestive of indicating the entire Worldwound -- "got taken care of; I've felt lately as if I'd finally woken up in a house I'd been living in my entire life and realizing it's a rat-infested firetrap. And believe me," she says with some fervor, "none of you need introduction to anyone who's come here. The Saviors of Kenabres, the Heroes of Drezen -- you may not be known on sight, but you are certainly known by name. And a forward operating force ..." She gives a small laugh, silver mixed with adamantine. "You don't need to be that modest, Sir Aladir. You have been the tip of the spear, and the people the five of you have freed from bondage have sung your praises. Well done; well done indeed." Which might seem a little odd, coming from a young woman nearly a century younger than the elf to whom she speaks.
In response to Hyram's words about also being a servant of Iomedae, her lips twitch into another smile. "Hopefully not only where she leads you; the gods help those who seek on their own too. Besides, how else are you going to find which tavern has the best beer in town? Iomedae has better things to do than that, I think," she gently teases the inquisitor.
"Strange, perhaps," she qualifies herself with Alikia. "Alas, when it comes to demons, they are more horrid than strange. As for Korvosa, well -- I have never been. This," and she touches her armor, "was brought here by my first teacher of the blade, who unfortunately committed some of the horrors in Korvosa -- not that she spoke of them much save as examples of dedication and zeal."
Looking down at her armor, she cuts off an oath as it becomes clear that the engravings with their red enamel are slowly changing from their prior mostly-decorative curves and curlicues into more distinct artwork -- images, to those who know the Iomedaen holy texts, of the Eleven Acts. She holds herself frozen, her expression one of 'uh, what do I do now', but after a few moments she realizes that since it hasn't harmed her yet, she'd might as well go about her business.
"Oh, shoot," she mutters, lifting up her free hand to look at it. "Is my -- darn it, I didn't even mean to let that shine. Sorry," she says, looking somewhat abashed, and the radiance about her braided coils of copper and flame dies off. "It's like a trained muscle -- usually it does what you want it to without thinking about it, but sometimes when something happens, it just ... lets go." She gives an abashed smile, then adds, "The halo isn't where 'Flametongue' comes from, though. Wait until I get a couple stouts in me, then you'll see something." This time her smile is more like a grin.
She nods courteously, more of a bow, to both Alikia and Ezro as they each depart; turning to the other two, she wonders, "The forge -- is it the forge of corruption if which they speak? Lady Irabeth has ordered a guard on it so nobody, well, messes up the work they've been doing. If my small knowledge and belief can be of use, I am more than willing to assist."
"Otherwise, I ..." She trails off, looking between Hyram and Aladir at the blue-leather-clad horned female in the unique cloak. "Who is that?" she wonders to them.
"Otherwise, I am at your disposal; I'm currently in a partially-repaired building with several others, helping with reconstruction and healing work, but let me know once you've decided when to move out once again, and I'll be there." She falls silent for a few moments, then adds, "Just one more thing, um ... I was by the gate when you came into Drezen. Who was the person in the strange cloak you escorted in from the badlands?"
Seeing that Aerianna was noticing Arueshalae for the first time, he takes a deep breath. "Yes, I think introductions are in order in this case as well...let me be the first to say that she is not an enemy. The Lady of Dreams led me, and through me all of us, to her, where we helped get her out of a redoubt full of demons seeking her death."
"Beyond that, well...now that the immediate danger is past, I would like to hear more about your story, Arueshalae. Some of it I have guessed at, but to hear it straight from you, now that we are out of immediate danger. How did it come about that Lady of Dreams spoke to you?"
"My friend, it is a long story but I shall share it with you all" as she sits down and begins a her tale, one of what she was and what happened to her.
"I came to the Worldwound and when I was still as evil as I was; seduced a priestess of Desna and drained her nearly to death. On a whim I tried an experiment. I do not need to sleep as you do, so I do not normally dream. Out of curiosity, I stole into the thoughts of the priestess using my detect thoughts ability while the woman lay sleeping, only to be pulled into the Dimension of Dreams. When the priestess died, I found myself trapped, but I gained Desna attention and Desna did not smite me. She reached into my soul and brought back memories of my mortal life, memories of dreams that never came true. Desna whispered in my ear: "Even demons can dream." When I woke I was filled with memories and regret, and immediately set about to atone for my very existence. I used my skills as a master spy to hide my change of heart, but when I acted to save the life of a wayward child who had become lost in the Worldwound, and I now see that child was you Aladir, the truth came out to the other demons. I knew I would be equally hunted among the crusaders, and so I opted to remain in the Worldwound—hiding until I could learn something vital that I could present to the crusaders and thereby prove my good intentions. When I learned of how the Templars were using Nahyndrian crystals to infuse demons with mythic power, I sought to discover all I could. I’d only just begun my investigations when I was captured and thrown into a prison below Citadel Drezen. Aponavicius herself tried to force me to revert to her demonic nature and failed, but when the marilith left Drezen to join the southern war front, my prayers to Desna were answered and the wards of my cell fell. I fled a few scant weeks before you arrived in Drezen, and made my way into the Worldwound to hide in the only safe place in the region I could think of; the ruined Desnan fortress that my last victim’s final dream had been about. Then you and your companions showed up and the rest you know."
"Hopefully not only where she leads you; the gods help those who seek on their own too. Besides, how else are you going to find which tavern has the best beer in town? Iomedae has better things to do than that, I think," she gently teases the inquisitor.
Beer? I don't imbibe spirits. Hyram says succinctly. The women's attempts at humor lost on the dour Inquisitor.
While Arueshalae is telling her tale, Hyram will try to see if she is being honest.
Aladir listens with full attention on Arueshalae's story, and doesn't seem to fully understand what she is telling him until he has had a moment to process, at which point his eyes widen.
"Wait...wait, step back for a moment. That time when I was a boy in the wilds outside Kenabres? But that was ages ago! At least a century! You're telling me that was you? I mean...I remember a woman, and...and..the holy symbol...by the gods, that IS the holy symbol that I saw her wearing! It was you! You saved my life that day...I would've been a playtoy for all those demons if it wasn't for you. I've always felt bad that I never got to thank you for saving me back then, but now...thank you, Arueshalae. Truly, I owe you my life."
"What??" Aerianna asks Hyram with some surprise. "Do you know how sick you can get drinking straight water, even if it's not from around here?? I hope you keep to the sanctified vats, at least." She speaks of the huge casks filled daily and purified by the various priests in order to provide clean water for drinking, cooking, even bathing for anyone with wounds. Then she shakes her head, amused and playfully pitying the grim man. "You do know Iomedae drank smallbeer, right? And I'm sure she even put down an ale or wine now and then." It's clear she's teasing him at this point, though, by her grin. "You and me, we'll go out some time and get totally shnonkered. I know this tavern called 'Three Limbs Gone' that's run by a retired paladin, almost all his clientele are clergy of one sort or another." She pauses, then admits in an aside, "Of course, around here right now, that's not a tough thing to manage. But!! If anyone will help us not fall out of Iomedae's grace, it'd be that lot, eh?" She grins again, but turns as Arueshelae approaches the three.
Aerianna pinkens right up as she's introduced to Arueshelae; it's clear the plain paladin is attracted to the compelling succubus, but then again, who wouldn't be? That being said, she still puts that aside to listen to Arueshelae's story with great focus. As much as she might want to enjoy the other's company, Aeri has a job, a duty, a higher calling that she answers to, and she will not shirk that for a (stunningly) pretty face.
Nodding and glancing between the apparently-ever-suspicious Iomedean inquisitor and the apparently-even-foolish-in-his-youth Desnan scout, she says slowly, "That ... sounds like a thing Desna would do. It also sounds," she adds, almost apologetically to Arueshelae, "like a very difficult path to follow. Desna may not be my patron, but I know her people are by and large good folk, and you will be in rewarding company among them. If there is anything I can do, by all means ask, and I will help you as you need." Need; not want.
"But stay; I for one do not know the rest; who will tell me that story? And let us leave from here, we are cluttering up the Queen's court, inasmuch as this can really be considered a court. More a council of war, hey?" She steps to one side, and holds out her hand towards the door, as if to usher Arueshelae, Hyram, and Aladir out. "Three Limbs Gone is not so far from here as all that," she suggests with a bit of teasing for Hyram.
Sanctified vats? shnonkerred? Hyram says clearly flummoxed. I..uh..don't know what Iomedae drank. Is..that..in the acts? he says suddenly unsure of himself. I always read the acts! Is it there and I just never noticed? He is more than happy when he listens for any falsehoods in the demon's tale of redemption. Until, that is, when Aerianna mentions the alcohol. Then his mind is a staggering mess again and he turns a bright shade of red.
The paladin can't help but laugh at Hyram's poleaxed expression, and reaches up to clap him on the shoulder, reminding him of just exactly how short she really is. "The acolytes given grace by the various good gods here channel the water we use from the river into large vats to hold it, then purify it. If you've drunk or eaten anything from the communal kitchens, it's likely had water come from there. Alas, it's only the priests can do it, otherwise all of us would have taken our turn. But gently, good Hyram, gently -- remember that Iomedae was a woman first, before she became a Goddess and Aroden's herald. It may not be in the Acts, or even in the commentaries, but remember -- once she was just like you or I, striving to do her best, and not always succeeding. Which means she had favorite foods, and likely drank an ale or stout -- in moderation, of course -- and perhaps had someone she wished to return home to at the end of the day."
She pauses, considers, then admits, "Though even I do have difficulty imagining she might've had a lover before marriage, and we're reasonably certain she never got married. But yes!! Tales should be told over a drink. Come, we'll go easy on you -- a single glass of wine, perhaps, and well-watered at that."
The image of The Inheritor drinking was bad enough, but the image of her being..romantically and sexually involved was just too much! His first thought was to smite this woman where she stood, but then again what she said also made perfect sense! It is hard to see the Woman Iomedae through the goddess Iomedae. Hyram's head began to hurt and he absent-mindedly began rubbing his temples. I...don't know about wine or exaggerated tales, but I will accompany you all for a little bit. I like to read some of the Acts before I turn in. Hyram believed that reading the Acts might be different tonight. Damn this Paladin!
Once outside, Aeri pauses to carefully attach the sheath of the sword she's been given (and of course, the sword within it) to her weapon belt; adjusting it, she starts down a street, gesturing the others to come with. "While being expansive can serve from time to time, this would not be one of them, Sir Hyram. For this, the stories we tell each other must be clear and cold fact. I must know with whom I fight and what you have faced so far, so that I have a fair chance of working well with you in the trials that are yet ahead of us. You, in turn, must know what I have seen and done, so that your own expectations might be set." Now that she's walked for a bit, and having tweaked and shifted the hang of the blade at her side, she is at least reasonably confident in its weight and placement that she can take Hyram's arm and -- well, it turns out to be Arueshalae's, causing the Silver Maiden to pinken again. "These may well be necessities for our future cooperation, but it doesn't mean we can't build some camaraderie while we discuss and describe, yes?"
Walking down the street arm-in-arm -- what's called 'in charity' -- with the others, she confesses to Hyrum, "I like reading the Acts at night too. When I wake up, though, I prefer digging into something that makes me think -- commentaries and thoughts from scholars and priests that have far more learning than a lowly midwife like myself. Gives me the entire day to mull it over in my head, so I can decide whether or not their ideas ... fit with how Iomedae speaks in my heart."
"I had nothing more in mind than crafting some items and tools that the people of Drezen may get some use out of. I am at your disposal if you need it." Ezro says as they walk down to the forge, oblivious to the tale being told in the great hall, having left too early.
Walking through the halls of Drezen, Ezro is sure to stop now and then to greet the paladins, and guards, along with the workers, and bless their works. He smiles and asks how their health is doing, and how they are fairing deep in the Worldwound.
"If you have some time today, any help with attempting to get this forge back to neutral will be extremely helpful! Otherwise feel free to continue on your personal projects." Offering Ezro a thumbs up, Alikia riffles through her notes once again and pauses. She pulls out a bloodied letter and winces.
"Ezro, I almost forgot. Sosiel... Someone should deliver this to him so that he can learn of his brother's fate. Are you particularly close to him? I would have suggested Quinn do it, but he has other matters to deal with now and Hyram is not particularly gentle."
"Yes I can take this too him. It would be best for a more...empathetic individual to break the news."
Taking the letter, Ezro stores it in a pocket to take to Sosiel later.
"It had slipped my mind that the forge was still tainted. Yes we should probably work on reversing that as best we can."
"While being expansive can serve from time to time, this would not be one of them, Sir Hyram. For this, the stories we tell each other must be clear and cold fact. I must know with whom I fight and what you have faced so far, so that I have a fair chance of working well with you in the trials that are yet ahead of us. You, in turn, must know what I have seen and done, so that your own expectations might be set."
I try not to frequent taverns except when I must unavoidably sup at one. It always seems that there are those who have had way to much to drink telling way to much of their lives. But again I am no expert.
"While being expansive can serve from time to time, this would not be one of them, Sir Hyram. For this, the stories we tell each other must be clear and cold fact. I must know with whom I fight and what you have faced so far, so that I have a fair chance of working well with you in the trials that are yet ahead of us. You, in turn, must know what I have seen and done, so that your own expectations might be set."
I read other things besides The Acts. I really enjoy reading about new and effective interrogation..uh...techniques that my fellow Inquisitors have employed. Hyram says with all sincerity and not at all aware how unsocial that might sound.
"No no," Aerianna agrees with Hyram, "you're right about that; there always is that guy sobbing into his ale. But it's listening to little parts of people's lives -- or sometimes way too much -- that helps you understand why you're doing what you're doing. And whether or not how you're doing it should maybe change," she adds, perhaps as a commentary about you enjoying reading about new 'interrogation techniques'.
As Hyram, Aeri, Arueshelae, and Aladir stroll through the evening streets towards a building with a painted sign showing a practice dummy with only one arm remaining (the others being scattered around the base), approaching from the opposite direction come a pair of chain-mailed men, not an uncommon occurrence in the newly-liberated Crusader city. One touches the arm of the other, and they increase the pace of their steps, reaching the door to the tavern just ahead of the four of you. Their mail gleaming in the light of a shining stone held in a cage next to the door, one of the pair opens the door and bows the party through -- just as the hour is called (or rung, whichever).
With half her people already filing through the door, Aeri looks at the two suddenly-grinning paladins. "You rats," she says ruefully, but laughs as she does, then shakes her head and preceeds them through the door.
Inside, the tavern is perhaps three-quarters full, lit by several shining stones (similar to the one outside) on shelves that look made for them, with forty-five or fifty people sitting inside; most of them are wearing armor of some sort, and a good third of it gleams with the purity of paladin's mail -- Iomedae, Sarenrae, Torag, Shelyn, Ragathiel, and more -- while a riot of good gods' colors fill out most of the rest. (And yes, there are a couple of Desnans wearing clothing bearing patterns of butterfly wings.)
Aerianna gestures the other three towards an open spot, but seperates herself from the group; the other two paladins who entered behind them head towards a group of comrades. Stepping down to the end of the bar, Aeri gives a one armed man in a chair there a quick embrace, then drags a step-stool over to the end of the bar and stands on it. Set on the bar itself is a table-top lectern; behind the man in the chair is a bookshelf, small but nevertheless packed with books. As Aerianna looks at what's on the lectern, her eyebrows go up and she glances towards the owner of 'Three Limbs Gone', who shrugs. "Sarenrae's inspiration," he says, which suggests that he's the one who selects what's on the lectern.
Aerianna looks thoughtful for a moment, looking down at whatever is there, then closes her eyes and manipulates -- well, not a book, at least. Opening her gaze, her eyebrows go up again, but she then reaches up to grip a stone ball there for the purpose, and gives it three loud raps against the lectern. Almost immediately, the tavern quiets down.
"A reading from the Third of the Eight Scrolls of Desna," she says clearly into the now-quiet room. "Desna said: From the highest to the lowest, from the eldest to the youngest, whether in sleep or in ambition, know that I have discovered that all things in some way dream, and this delighteth me."
She stops, thoughtfully re-rolling the scrolls together, and tucking them away in their case, but the crowd remains silent. "We are each of us touched and inspired by all of the gods," Aeri says slowly. "We have impulses to create and to destroy, to revel in nature or fight against it, to love or hate, to find pleasure or inflict pain. Even when we -- and that's most of us in here tonight -- dedicate ourselves to one god in particular, remember that the others, all of the others, have their times and reasons to call to us. But while it is given to them to call, it is given to us the choice of whether or not to answer. 'All things dream, high and low.' I feel that it is to the sorrow of the universe that so many dream of evil; but now and again, they might dream of good. Let us pity those who do not, but not let pity stay our hands to return them to the pits whence they came. And let us hope to find those who do dream of the better, the higher, the greater than themselves, that we may aid in their redemption and their rise to the ranks of the celestial. Blessings upon us all."
"Upon us all," murmur the occupants of the tavern in what's clearly a habitual chorus, and the conversations pick up once more, some of them about the words just spoken.
The entirety of her reading and the short sermon afterwards took less than two minutes; she steps down from the stool and spends a moment or two in conversation with the retired paladin in the chair as his assistants move about the tavern once more, bringing beer and food where it needs to go. Aeri herself comes over a few moments later, but doesn't sit down; instead she glances at Arueshelae, blushes once more, then says, "Aladir, might I have a word? In private?" She gestures with her head back towards the bar, at which only a couple of people stand, and those looking to be heading out in a few moments.
Aladir himself joins in the chorus of voices that repeat Aeri's pronouncement of blessing, lifting the mug he had ordered and drinking to the toast (of sorts). As a follower of Desna, the reading had special meaning for the elf, and even more because of the recent addition to their group.
When the newest addition to their group requests a private conference, Aladir quirks a curious eyebrow. Curiosity had gotten into trouble ever since he was a child getting his then-long hair caught in a thicket, the very situation that had brought Arueshalae's side-change into the open...but at least he had learned enough from it to keep his hair cut short from then on.
"Certainly, if you wish. Be right there." he answers, keeping a thought and an eye towards Arueshalae as he follows Aeri to the back of the bar. In a tavern full of worshipers of the goodly gods, he wanted to make sure that trouble wasn't caused over her heritage. People might look at her and assume she was just a tiefling, but one never knew, and he was going to make sure that anyone who discerned what she truly was didn't cause a fuss about it.
Front of the bar, actually, but at least the group found a recently-opened-up table which Hyram and Arueshelae are now 'holding down'. The red-haired paladin looks sideways down the long common-seating trestle tables towards that mis-matched pair, pinkens a bit more, then turns her face up towards Aladir. "I ... know you and I have only just met, but I have a question to ask, and depending on its answer I have either a suggestion to make of you or a favor to request. Do you ... are you ... um." Her gaze drops, and she looks like she's searching desperately for a bauble she's misplaced. Oddly enough, what she is also doing is turning a steel or silver ring in her hands, end over end over end. She hesitates, then takes a deep breath and tries again, looking once more up into Aladir's eyes. "Are you attracted to Lady Arueshelae?"
Without waiting for the answer to that, she plunges onwards. "Because if you are, I think it might be a good idea to buy her a copy of the Eight Scrolls of Desna, the copy from which I just read, um, that's all -- Hamar" and here she gestures towards the one-limbed retired paladin bar-owner in the corner, "is willing to sell that copy for twenty-five gold crowns 'cause it didn't look like she had anything but her armor and weapons and such, meaning not a scroll-case or two like you'd use for the Eight Scrolls, 'cause it'd make a good gift for her, but if you're not attracted to her, then can I borrow twenty crowns, 'cause I only have five." It all comes out in rather a rush.
"No my friend, I owe you my life. When I rescued you in the wilderness, that act was what finally broke me free of my demonic ways and allowed me to begin my path to redemption in the Lady of Dreams eyes.
Entering the tavern, it quiets down quickly when the see Arueshalae, who looks somewhat at ease, especially since many of the folks there are paladins, clerics or at minimum devotees of Iomedae, and they stare in her direction. You see several of the paladins and clerics, either casting spells or staring at her intently. Whatever they did, and after seeing the group, things go back to normal. You hear phrases, if Aerianna is with her and if the heroes of Drezen are with her and they seem to accept that everything is alright.
The elf seems somewhat taken aback by the sudden flood of information from Aerianna. After taking a moment to process the question, Aladir begins,"Well...I would be a fool not to admit that I find Arueshalae attractive. Even calling her 'attractive' seems to me a gross understatement. That being said, I do feel that I have a connection with her. I think we both helped each other that day, after a fashion; I wonder if it wasn't that very connection that we share, more than just our mutual reverence for Desna, that allowed her to reach out to me and ask for help when she was trapped in the redoubt we found her in."
"I fully intend to help her as she struggles out this new journey she is on, to spend time with her and let her see the goodly virtues of compassion, mercy, friendship, generosity, and love in action. If she is to truly learn not just what those things mean, but what they are, she's going to need help...not just from me, but from all of us."
"If, in the course of time, our relationship grows from allies to friends to something deeper, I would certainly welcome it. I grew up as part of a large family; we never had much wealth, but we had each other, and that was enough. My father used to say that one of the blessings of having such a long life was being able to have many children..." he says, then pauses a moment, a wistful smile on his face, before continuing,"...so I've always hoped fall in love, to marry and have a large family myself someday."
Realizing he's gone off on a tangent that he hadn't intended to go on and probably said more than was asked, he clears his throat. "All that being said, I think your idea is a good one, but I won't be so crude as to simply steal your idea. Come, let us go and buy her a copy of the Eight Scrolls and present it to her as a gift from both of us."
"you're right about that; there always is that guy sobbing into his ale. But it's listening to little parts of people's lives -- or sometimes way too much -- that helps you understand why you're doing what you're doing. And whether or not how you're doing it should maybe change,"
Yes! Yes! If I can get a confession out of someone quicker, then that just means I'll have more time to get confessions from others! Hyram says thinking him and Aeri finally agree on something and totally missing her point.
When Aeri and Aladir depart, Hyram stares Arueshalae. Tried as I might, I could not find fault with your tale. Lucky for you that I didn't need to resort to other means to get your tale. He then looks at his untouched goblet of wine not knowing what to make of it. That interrogation would have been most unpleasant for you. Hyram says in his attempt to make small talk.
As Aladir speaks of what he feels his connection with Arueshelae to be, Aerianna's heart sinks within her. Of course he'd be attracted to her, you goose; just look at her!! Add in that she saved him so long ago, they're both Desnans -- it's practically a match made in heaven. She tries to keep disappointment out of her expression, and for the most part succeeds, but when Aladir suggests that they go in together on the purchase, it ... actually, it kind of startles her.
As a midwife, Aerianna has seen all sorts of arrangements, most of which worked to one degree or another -- multiple men and one woman, multiple women and one man, two members of the same sex, group marriages that extended for decades beyond the death of the first people to engage in them. Far and away the most common was one male, one female, but common to all was the concern for and support of the children that came into the marriage by whatever route. And the length of courtship amongst crusaders would have been the despair and scandal of more civilized climes; a few weeks at most, a pregnancy within the year.
So her mind leaps all unbidden to Aladir's suggestion being, though not a proposal outright, at least a thought in the direction of such -- her and Arueshelae and himself. But then she mentally smacks herself in the head. Crazy girl, of course he isn't. He's just ... being generous. So she nods, and draws out her coin pouch, fishing into it for the five crowns she has, to lead Aladir over to Hamar and introduces Aladir to the one-limbed paladin, "Hamar, this is Aladir, one of the Heroes of Drezen. Aladir, Hamar, paladin of Sarenrae. Hamar, we'll take them."
Hamar's eyebrows go up, but when that earns him a flat, mulish look from Aerianna, lifts his hand towards the scrolls and says, "For a good cause, they're yours. Do me a favor, put the Light and Truth up there, will you?"
"What, again?" asks Aerianna as she puts her five gold into his hand, then reaches out to pull out the Sarenite holy text, exchanging it for the Desnan scrolls.
"Don't want to listen to my faith, go drink in someone else's tavern," replies Hamar phlegmatically.
"And miss the chance to needle you? Perish the thought." Leaning down, she gives Hamar a kiss on the cheek. "For a Sarenite, you're not half bad, Hamar. Thanks."
"Go do some good, Aeri," the man replied gruffly, eyeing Aladir and waiting for the balance of the gold.
"Ezro, do you have the ability to consecrate this area? We will need to attempt to cleanse the vileness from the Worldwound and whatever rituals the demons preformed here." As she speaks, Alikia pulls her hair into a sloppy bun.
"If you want to gather the necessary materials, I am going to seek out Aravashnial and convince him to help us. The journal provides some insight, but with our last few attempts being so sub-par, I'd like to have an extra set of hands about when things get tricky." Offering the half-divine a thumbs up, Alikia waits but a moment before turning and seeking out her mentor and friend.
While not huge, Drezen has many hidey-holes, and with being stopped quiet often to be asked advice, it takes Alikia far longer than she anticipated to find the Riftwarden. Eventually, after three hours of searching, Alikia finds him enjoying a glass of wine in an out-of-the way reading room. Convincing the abjurer is not hard, and finally Alikia returns to the forge with the intent to fix the forge once and for all.
The look of momentary shock on Aeri's face causes Aladir to quirk his head to the side ever so slightly, a quizzical expression on his face. Was it that hard to believe that he would be willing to let her share in presenting the scrolls to Arueshalae?
After she seems to come back to herself and leads him to Hamar, he gives the man a smile and reaches into his pack, fishing the appropriate amount of gold from a pouch stowed within it. "It's a pleasure, Hamar. Quite the bustling place you've got here! It does my heart good to see Drezen restored like this, after what she had been reduced to before." the relationship she had with the paladin was clearly a personal one, whereas he had had very little chance to interact with those who had swept into the city after he and the others had cleaned it out; they'd been so busy continuing to sweep through the countryside that it'd been difficult to stop and look back at what was happening behind them.
Thanking Aeri again, Aladir returns to Arueshalae, gift in hand, to find her still with the others. "Seems like everyone's been playing nice! Glad to see it. I'll be honest, I was a little concerned about how everyone here would react to your presence, Arueshalae. It seems that our vouching for you is enough...and, I expect, that you don't radiate evil any more." he began, trying to find a way to broach the subject of the gift. Deciding that subtlety was probably not the way to do it, he continued,"So...Aeri and I were talking and we decided that it might be a good idea to get you something...a soft of 'welcome to the group' gift, I suppose you might call it." he begins, offering the scrolls to her and explaining what they are. "I'll be honest, I'm not much of a religious scholar, but...if you're interested, I'd be happy to start going through them together with you."
"I was here doing the sweeping too," replies Hamar quietly. "Just that my broom got a bit busted up. Now, with a bit of knowledge about the brewer's art and an eye for a wine or two, I can provide a place where the sacred is ... understood." He takes the money and tucks it into a purse by his side; undoubtedly it'll go straight to someone heading back into Mendev, for the purchase of another copy of the Eight Scrolls.
Aerianna waits for Aladir to finish up, then returns with him to the table where Hyram and Arueshelae sit, the other holy folk at the common tables and the other couple of 'private' ones to either side respecting their privacy, after all. She glances sideways at him at his ... brusque ... manner, talking about Arueshelae 'not radiating evil any more', and blinks a couple of times. Well, everyone has their ... oh. Oh dear. Because Aladir positively butchers his presentation.
"For me, it has nothing to do with 'welcome to the group'. You are on an incredibly difficult road," Aerianna says to the rising demoness. "If you'd been called by Iomedae or Sarenrae, or a god with a more structured world-view, the task that lay before you would not be nearly so difficult. But because Desna speaks in your heart, and because Desna's faith is one of self-determination, you must find your guidance to her ... in many ways by chance and on your own, for there are few strictures and no structure in place, no way-points to mark your path." The plain-faced paladin lifts her hand to gesture to the two scroll cases bearing the Desnan holy texts. "Your goddess speaks in your heart; these are her words to the world, written somewhat more concretely, so that you may return to them again and again, instead of to fallable memory. For guidance; for solace; for inspiration. So that you are no longer wandering blind in the wilderness."
When she speaks of matters of faith, she does not stammer, or stutter, or turn crimson-cheeked as she speaks to the stunningly beautiful succubus; perhaps it is because, in that small corner of her world, she has firm footing, and all the powers of Hell and the Abyss shall not move her from her place.
Somewhat abashed by his initial presentation, Aladir takes a deep breath before he speaks again. "Aeri is right in what she says, of course...forgive me if I seem crude in my approach to discussions of faith and belief. It isn't that Desna is of a lesser station to me, I'm just not always the best at discussing it. Desna has always been a felt presence for me, and while I have read from the Scrolls in the past, the times when she has felt most real to me have been those moments of solitude in the wilds. Sitting in the branches of a tall tree, looking up at the stars, sensing her in the stirring of the wind...those moments have always been the most real to me. Not just a feeling, but a knowing...deeper than my bones, to my very soul, the core of who I am."
"Truly, I as I said, I have never been the most learned person. I can tell you how to track a wounded animal, I can tell you what flora is safe to eat, and I can navigate by sun or stars, but when it comes to spending time in study...it's honestly never been something I've dedicated a lot of time to. I am, however, willing to learn, and willing to put more time and effort and energy into the learning. All that we've seen and experienced in the last few months has only shown me just much I don't know about even our own corner of the world. But I want to learn, and I want to know, Desna included. I suppose...I was hoping we could delve into it, learn and know and grow, together. If you're willing, of course."
Having fought with Hyram against demons at the redoubt, and traveled with him for a few days, Arueshalae has come to realize that he is gruff and not one for the niceties of his race, so while she blanches slightly at his attempt at small talk she simply says, "I am pleased that you believe me." and she turns away and looks over the crowd, trying to ignore the man.
When Aladir and Aerianna return to the table, Arueshalae turns back from looking at the crowd, to acknowledge them. At Aladir initial attempt to explain the scrolls, and Aerianna much clearer, yet somewhat more rule bound explanation, Arueshalae looks pleased, and responds; "I would appreciate learning more about my goddess. What I know is in my heart, and I know is that she gave me a chance to redeem myself, even when I was at her mercy in the place of dreams. While I understand that it might be easier for some to have a more rigid structure, I do not believe that I would even have a chance to succeed in that environment. Let us spend a little time each day while we journey to the Ivory Temple and beyond studying these scrolls together and perhaps we will come to understand Desna will for us."
Hyram shrugs at Arueshalae's curt reply. It mattered not rather she spoke to him or not. In fact he preferred it. He lifts the glass of wine up to his nose, sniffs it, makes a face of disgust and returns it to the bar unsipped.
Ezro nods to Alikia and smiles, "Yes, I will get the necessary materials and prepare a consecration. I apologize that I do not know much about the spell workings, but perhaps between you and Aravashniel we will be able to untie these curses from the forge."
Ezro gathers a vial of holy water and some silver dust. Finding the appropriate entre in the holy book of Iomedea, he heads down to the forge and lays out the necessary items, and begins preparing for Alikia to return with Aravashniel. As Alikia and Aravhniel work on the arcane aspects, The priest gives constant prayer, consecrating the area. Finally after some time and an obvious look of frustration on Alikias face, he finishes.
"I assume it did not work then?"
Aerianna nods to Arueshelae's words, but at the end she breaks into a cheerful grin. "Ah, but isn't that the point?" she teases, even as the server brings a couple of mugs of ale for herself and Aladir. "Desna doesn't will for you; you must will for yourself." Her eyes twinkle at the light philosophical fencing, but glancing at Hyram, she can guess both what the topic of conversation between the two of them had been, and decides to turn the conversation.
"But! Since our main purpose here is to persuade Sir Hyram to take a sip of that watered wine, and eventually finish it, let us return to the tale of how you, Lady Arueshelae, came to be among us -- and how you gentlemen aided her in gaining her freedom."
During the tale-telling, Aerianna glances occasionally at Hyram and his glass of watered wine; when he gestures for a server to take it away, she tsks softly and reaches out to slide the glass to herself, and says to the server, "He isn't being daring today. Just a mug of clean water for Brother Hyram tonight." She takes a sip from the glass, then asides to Hyram, "Only send your drink back if there's really something wrong with it. Also, if you're the first clergyman in the door after the hour's bell rings, usually within ten minutes or so, it's your turn to read from whatever Hamar has been inspired to set out. Find something quickly, usually within a page or two, read it out, and then expound upon it for a few moments. Say what's in your heart, or what you know. Try to make it upbeat. End with 'Blessings upon us all.'" She smiles, winks, and gets back to the tale as Hyram's water is brought.
Stroking the glass acquired from Hyram, her eyes grow thoughtful as she considers the bell. "I think ... hm. Ezro and Alikia are going to be involved with cleansing the corruption forge for ... I don't know what the plan is, but I sort of hope they focus on it until it's either cleansed or destroyed, because having it here, in its current state, makes my shoulders itch, like there's a dagger waiting to be planted between them. So if they do that ..." She frowns, considering. "Hm. It'll still take time. I think that if it isn't too far away, if there's a route that'll take a wagon -- how big is the bell, again? -- we should talk to the Ladies Tirabade," by which she means Irabeth and Anevia, of course, "and the good Sosiel. A heavy wagon, the four of us while Ezro and Alikia are busy, a few someones with some knowledge of moving very large, heavy objects ... an escort just in case."
The small but clearly-dynamic paladin glances at each of the three in turn. "What do you think?"
Hyram nods and approaches the rack of scrolls and randomly picks one. It was a simple tale of how Bolkka brought two dwarven lovers together against insurmountable odds. It elicits many 'Ahs' from the audience and a few tears fall among the battle-hardened veterans. Hyram rolls up the scroll replaces it and addresses the silent, enraptured room. He then expounds on how enemies of the goodly faiths must be sought out and every bit of information must be 'pressed from their lips' and how they must be 'pushed to their limits' and feel the 'closeness of death!' The audience is horrified and many stand there slack jawed as they were expecting a sermon on love. To Hyram-that is what they were getting because there is no greater love for those of a deity then to seek out and destroy their enemies. Hyram gets more animated as he starts to go into somewhat gory details and pantomiming his points. Some in the audience start to look physically ill. Damn Inquisitors! Hamar mutters as he says loudly, Thank you...uh..sir. I think we all have gotten the point. There is no need to continue. Please take your seat! Hyram returns to his seat as polite, tepid applause is heard. Hamar gives Aeri and angry look and mouths, You'll pay for that! silently. He then smiles at the Paladin admiring her one-upmanship. It takes a few moments for the crowd to recover but soon it is back to its boisterous noise levels.