Mel's brow furrows. "The only doctor I knew in conjunction with Brookside was Perrin Alders, the town physician. He was ..." she struggles briefly, looking for the right words. "He was many things. An accomplished alchemist. Kind. Always well-intentioned. And hopelessly naive."
Hal thinks about it for a moment "Nah - can't be right. 'Less your doctor vanished a couple months ago and switched careers to criminal mastermind, I guess."
Mel sets her fork down. "He ... did vanish a few months ago. The last thing he said to me was that he had things to think about ... and take care of. That's all. It was via a sending. I wouldn't have thought he would go into crime. But ... " She trails off for the moment.
"You and I talked about deals, once. How hedges rarely strike new bargains. It's usually just two parties entering into a new instance of an old agreement, and everyone understands the terms. Right?"
"Well ... Perrin. He's not a hedge. But he made a bargain. A bad one, to my mind. He was closer to a priest than a wizard, but not really like either. And his ... patron ... was ... I won't speak the name, but he's sometimes referred to as the Whispers Within."
"I did my best to set him on a new path. He was genuinely kind and well-intentioned. But ... if he stayed trapped in that bad bargain, well. People change. And his patron loves twisting beautiful things into mockeries of themselves."
"Ah. I might have some... unwelcome news then."
"Go on," Mel says, her expression blank.
Not really knowing much of what was going on, Kazador listened quietly. If nothing else, it was a good tale that was being spun, and it had his full attention.
Hal looks around and then speaks "Not much... Something's goin' on in that gang we were lookin' into - the one I used to be involved with. Word is someone callin' emselves "the Doctor'' took it over lock stock and barrel. He's got people lookin' over, or after, Brookside."
”Not sure why that reminds me.” Kazador said. ”Heard earlier that the Reapers are increasingly getting involved over in Helm. Oh, and that…and there is something new over in the barbaric lands. Halak is leading a growing tribe of orcs who are pushing out other orc tribes and are even trading over in Helm. I’m thinking it might be worth looking into. A change in orc leadership, and perhaps even culture, may be the only thing that could lead to the lands being renamed. Though the reaps are still an issue, as they wouldn’t overlook that development.”
Mel looks down. "So ... it sounds as though Perrin has taken over the Helm branch of the Reaps, and is using them to protect Brookside."
She frowns fiercely at her salad. "That would be just like him," she says. "Trying to take some malignant power and turn it to benevolent ends. He was always ready to sacrifice himself for others. But somehow he can never see beyond that. Sometimes the price is higher than one soul can pay, and the balance gets taken from innocents."
She pushes back from the table. "Tcha. I'm not hungry any more. I need to find Perrin."
As Mel stalks off Hal turns to Kazador "Orcs, tradin'? This Perrin bloke spend much time 'round Orcs?"
”Gods know how long it will last.” Kazador muttered as Mel left. ”I wouldn’t trust them not to turn back to their old ways at the first sign of weakness.” Orc savagery had left many a traumatic memory. ”I hope I’m wrong. But I wouldn’t bet a life on it.”
You ruminate on what these doings could mean and Mel gets some quiet time to cast her spell. She hears rumors of a pale-haired human man with boyish features, matching Perrin's description, seen near several different entrances to the sewers near the central guardhouse.
I wonder if he's taken up in Daisy's old hideout, Mel wonders.
She returns to the others. "Perrin -- the Doctor -- seems to be holed up somewhere in the sewers near the central guardhouse. Kazador, you remember where we fought that demented halfling Daisy and her pet snake? Maybe not the exact same place, but somewhere around there. Paska, I bet that hitto snake is still down there. We didn't kill it, just left it sleeping."
She rubs her eyes. "I need to go talk to Perrin. Confront him, I guess. See if I can figure out what he's doing, and hopefully ... help him find a new path." She thinks of her copy of the Enchiridion Pan Caelestes, tucked away in her haversack with the entry on Immonhiel dog-eared.
"Tcha. Anyway. I ... don't think I have it in me to do this alone. Come with me, please? Kazador, you knew Perrin, at least a little. And Hal, if he's organizing the Reaps in Helm, you've got an interest in him as well."
”Aye, I can do that. My own plans are just that, and they aren’t going anywhere.” He replied, unwilling to leave a friend in need.
"All right, then. First thing in the morning we go looking for Perrin."
Hal shakes his head abruptly "Just checkin'. Y'r old friend has taken over the gang and gone back home. Pretty sure I was hallucinatin' there for a second." he sighs "Guess it's not the least likely thing I've seen round you lot. Maybe don't point out who I am though, hey."
Mel gives a faint half-smile. "Of course not."
You spend the night at a reputable inn and then search the sewers the next day for Perrin. After searching for stinky hours, near the central guardhouse, Hal-the-ever-paranoid finds some exploding runes guarding a small section of sewer. Inside that section of sewer, there are some magical components and food stockpiled. It's unclear what they are for but you seem to be on the trail of... something...
Kazador hadn’t said a word as they trudged through the sewers. They’d gone through much together, and sensory assault was not the worst they had experienced. Still, it was not pleasant.
Having found a cache, he busied himself searching for any indication that this belonged to their man. Or less optimistically, he hoped to find a clue showing to whom, or to what, it belonged to.
"Ah. Traipsing through the sewers of Helm," Mel comments. "Not an experience I had hoped to repeat."
Once they find the hideout, Mel, too, looks around to see if she can determine whether this is Perrin's hangout.
Mel and Kaz each note that some of the magical components have an inscription of a stone on them. Looking closely, the book-learned identify it as depicting the Philosopher's Stone and thus being an unholy symbol of Haagenti.
"This is the place," Mel says, anxiety written in the timbre of her words. "I guess let's just ... wait."
She locates a comparatively dry, clean spot and sits down to wait.
"I sure hope y'r right, or this could go real bad." Hal - as Hal -warns.
"It could go real bad even if I am right," Mel says dispiritedly.
You wait around in the hideout for the rest of the day but see no sign of its occupant. In fact, you stake out the place for days but still cannot find them. Finally, the day of the summit has come and the central guardhouse is packed with security as three heads of state convene to represent the Concordat, Iustia, and Helm at the diplomatic even of the century.
You decide to keep investigating the sewers, given your partial lead, and finally spot a cloaked figure just ahead of you, turning around a corner in the sewers and heading closer to the guardhouse. Your eyes are barely sharp enough to recognize the silhoette of a plague doctor mask at this distance and lighting.
Mel hurries to follow after him. When she gets close enough she calls out: "Perrin."
You race after the figure and turn the corner, seeing no one, but hear Perrin's voice reply from somewhere in this corridor "Mel? You're alive? That's great! But can we catch up later? I have lives to save."
"Yes, alive and well. What do you mean, lives to save?" Mel replies. "Maybe we can help. But I heard you were running the Reaps in Helm these days? Perrin, what's going on?"
Perrin's voice echoes back in reply "There are some people in the guardhouse I need to kill. It's unfortunate but it will prevent more from dying. And yes, I have taken over the Reaps. Good thing, too. I am having them keep an eye on Brookside so it doesn't get attacked again."
”Impressive.” Kazador’s voice rumbled. ”But Reaps aren’t known for their philanthropic work. How’d you manage that?” While he truly did not want this to devolve into hammer work, he kept an eye on Mel. If she gave the signal he was ready to try and take their (apparently) radicalized associate down in a way which hopefully wouldn’t be lethal.
Hal, conscious of the fact this 'Perrin' knew nothing of him, did his best to stay unobtrusively in the back.
"In the guardhouse?" Mel asks. "Isn't that where the peace talks are being conducted?"
The voice of unseen Perrin replies "Well Haagenti gave me some key information that let me take over their power structure. They still do some crimes but they do a lot more good than they would without me." To Mel's question, he replies "Well... yes... but really it will save lives if I kill them. Haagenti is going to blow up the entire guardhouse if I don't. But don't worry, all three successions have been lined up just perfectly and I will be even more capable of ensuring peace on the continent. Like I said, Mel, this will save lives."
Mel's heart sinks.
"Oh, Perrin," she says. "I believe that you believe Haagenti is going to blow up the guardhouse. But I think Haagenti has lied to you. You've always wanted to save lives. And that is good, and pure, and noble. And it's why that is the exact lie Haagenti would use to get you to do what he wants."
"Do you really think all the other gods would let Haagenti step in and personally murder everyone in that guardhouse unopposed? I don't. I think if he tried they would move to stop him. Allowing him to proceed would destabilize the entire continent, and probably throw us into a horrific war."
"The gods work through mortal agents, Perrin. Your hands. And mine, these days. This is not the way. Let be. Please."
The voice pauses then speaks, faltering "Well... Haagenti would be acting through mortal agents if he blew up the guardhouse... I didn't understand the magic I was doing at the time but..."
Perrin shares his role in marking the central guardhouse, months ago.
Perrin sighs. "It turns out my divination gave some misleading information. Haagenti's "communication" sometimes takes on forceful means. But in any case, believe me when I say that I am confident that Haagenti's plan to detonate the guardhouse is no bluff."
"So that's what you wouldn't talk about, all those months ago when Ev had her ... episode," Mel sighs. Completely without thinking of it, she raises a hand to her holy symbol -- the shattered shards of her first bow, etched with Ostara's snowbells.
"Perrin, you told me then that Haagenti was part of your how but never part of your why. That you were on board for opposing him, because what matters to you, what drives and fuels you, is helping people. I know that to be true. I have never doubted it."
"That's what drives me, as well. Community is sacred. These past few months we've worked so hard to forestall a war between Iustia and the Concordat. Now, all of that effort is about to bear fruit. Those leaders are up there to negotiate a lasting peace between the lands. Think of that, Perrin."
She grips her holy symbol tighter.
"Allen Dorner ... he fell in the Defense of Brookside. Poor Alice. I think of her crying at his funeral. And I think about that orc woman I killed, in that first fight. The one with the birth bracelet showing that she left a child behind, somewhere. That's what peace means, Perrin. We can't go back and undo the past. But we can stop that from happening again. Think of all the hundreds and thousands of people who will never raise a weapon in anger, never die on a muddy battlefield that stinks of blood. No more Alice Dorners, weeping for lost fathers. No more orphaned orc children, forever wondering why Mama didn't come home."
A drop of blood slides down her wrist from her fist, clenched white-knuckled around the edges of Ostara's symbol.
"Or at least, a whole lot fewer of them. I'm not fool enough to think we can save every life. But Perrin, we can save an awful lot of them. If we let those peace talks conclude. And who knows? Maybe, with time and space and peace, we can all -- we humans, and elves, and dwarves, and all the other wonderful people who walk this world -- we can all find ways to live with each other. And not just against one another."
"So please: the way that you can help people, here, now, today, is to come with us to the guardhouse and remove that symbol before it can detonate. What was done by mortal hand can be undone the same way."
"Please, Perrin. It's time to find a new how."
Kazador listened to the two of them talk. Part of him felt that he should do something to aid Mel. To say something witty or wise to support her argument. But it seemed wrong. Her heartfelt words were moving enough as they were and didn’t need him putting his foot in his mouth. Despite himself he felt his muscles relax, as if though imminent violence wasn’t needed. He caught himself, though. Because if the lad didn’t listen to reason then he would, unfortunately, need to act.
You hear a heavy sigh and a man appears in front of you wearing a plague doctor's outfit. He removes the mask, revealing Perrin's face. "Alright, Mel. I'm not sure we can do it. My power may turn against me. But let's try. I'll show you to the alley." He starts leading you through some sewer tunnels.
A sense of relief, mixed with trepidation, sweeps through Mel. "Good, yes. Let's go."
You follow Perrin through some sewer tunnels, up through a manhole, and into an alley behind the central guardhouse. Security around the building is very, very tight with fighters and wizards on every rooftop as the three heads of state are present in the guardhouse right now. So you all have to move very carefully through the area.
As you enter the alley, a rune begins to glow on the wall of the guardhouse. At first, it glows a faint red, then more brightly orange, then brighter still yellow. Hal and Perrin quickly figure out that there is some sort of magical, positive feedback loop building rapidly toward an explosion. The best way to break the feedback loop will be literally with a hammer strike from Kazador.
However, as Kazador moves forward, Perrin's eyes turn entirely black and he teleports Kazador backwards away from the target...
Mel turns -- as ever -- to faith. She presses her hands in prayer, gazing at Perrin, and calls out: "Ostara! This man has walked long in the shadows, seeking good things in dark places and finding less than he hoped. Now he seeks to return from that dark sojourn. Help me, Ostara. Help me light his way home!"
Above Mel's head a blazing halo snaps into place, filling the alley completely with heavenly light, chasing shadow and shade away.
Kazador had been prepared to use his hammer when suddenly the air shimmered. It was as if time and space had folded and unfolded, as he was no longer where he once stood. His eyes were wide as he saw Perrin, and assuming he was possessed, the dwarf called upon the power of his faith. A prayer on his lips, he intoned the name of his deity, asking that he turn his gaze upon them.
Hal pulls chalk and starts to scribe runes upon a nearby wall - runes that immediately screech and glow as the overflow energy from the overloaded rune is parasited into the hastily scrawled mess of glyphs.
"This isn't going to hold long!" he screams, as the first glyph he drew flares out.
Hal contains the energy and buys you a little bit more time! Perrin's eyes lock onto the halo over Mel's head as Kazador rushes back into position and bolsters his allies. Then Kazador attempts to draw closer to the rune but Perrin turns, half-distracted, to cast another spell on the dwarf. Just as he finishes gesturing, however, an orange blur leaps out from behind one of the crates in the alley and latches onto Perrin's hand! Perrin's all-black eyes flicker between the orange form and Melia's halo as he forgets to finish the spell...
...just long enough for Kazador's hammer to make contact! The energy built up in the rune blasts outward, severely damaging the wall and injuring those of you in the alley. Coughing as the dust clears and soldiers shout from many rooftops in the area, you stumble to your feet. You broke the positive feedback loop early enough that the wall held and those inside the guardhouse should be unharmed. Perrin lies on his back in the alley, black eyes staring unblinkingly upwards, motionless. Several feet away, a dead fox lies where the explosion flung her, neck clearly broken.
Mel rushes to Perrin's aid first, brushing a hand across his chest. Kindly green light plays among the silvery links mithral woven together long ago by the dwarves of Kazad Gravr, then sinks into Perrin, healing his hurts -- at least, those of the body. "Ostara, help him," Mel prays, making no more specific request than that.
And then she turns to the still bundle of fur, lying crumpled in an alley far from the green woods. "I remember you ... Rally, was it? I came too late to help Cyrus. But maybe ..."
Working swiftly but surely, she gently turns the tiny head, and once more works the one magic she has truly mastered: healing. Though perhaps too late.
Perrin's body does not respond to treatment, his breathing and heartbeat growing weaker, until they cease altogether. It does not make sense from the physical wounds alone. But perhaps this is the end of Perrin's dealings and battle with Haagenti.
Rally the fox lies with her neck broken, beyond the aid of most healers, magical or mundane. But no one on the continent has combined healing magic with a deep knowledge of the body like Mel and she gets the broken vertebrae realigned and healed in time. The fox opens her eyes, rises to her feet, and noses Mel's palm in a friendly fashion.
With a groan Kazador got to his feet. He *almost* expressed relief, but then he saw Mel. While it was not ideal that Perrin had fallen, it was a better result in his eyes than his plans being fulfilled. But he could tell that a friend was in pain. Not knowing what words that could be said, he walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. When the fox responded to her magic, he took a step back, feeling some relief. Not so much for the fox, but for her.
Absent-mindedly, Mel heals Kazador of the wounds he sustained. But her attention is fixed on Perrin, lying still, so still, in a dingy alleyway. Only Kazador, and perhaps Rally, are close enough to hear Mel speaking quietly, an old poem:
The tears I feel today
I'll wait to shed tomorrow.
Though I'll not sleep this night,
Nor find surcease from sorrow.
My eyes must keep their sight;
I dare not be tear-blinded.
I must be free to speak --
Not choked with grief, clear-minded.
My tongue cannot betray
The anguish that I know.
Yes -- I'll keep my tears till later.
But my grief will never go.
From somewhere not too far away, she can hear footsteps, queries and orders -- no doubt guards coming to investigate.
"Hal," she calls. "Can you take him away, please? If they find him here they'll ... he deserves to be buried in Brookside. But they'll never understand. Just -- away from here, for now, and find me later. I'll stay and answer their questions."
"Kazador ... stay, please. I need a friendly face right now."
Kazador nodded, his hammer shimmering it if transformed into a torc that ran up the length of his arm. The time for weapons was, thankfully, at an end. He stood next to Mel, knowing that it was not a time for levity either. ”It doesn’t get easier, does it?” He said, as he watched Hal go. There was no need to reference losing a friend. Putting words to the fact was unnecessarily cruel. ”But I suppose that’s a good thing. When it doesn’t hurt is when we need to worry.” Looking up at her he thought back to how she had stood with him when he was at his low points. While he regretted the circumstances, it was a silver lining that he could return the gesture. Whether it was to listen or to stand in silence, he was glad that he could be there.