The young nobleman waits till they come to an area that is free of innocent bystanders.
Christian places his left hand on the shoulder of "uncle" and stops him, his grip firm and demanding.
The young lord tilts his head and looks off into the distance.
At once my master.
He then turns the would-be cultists towards him. His right-hand rests on his own weapon as his voice is filled with disappointment.
After all that we have done to get you out of there and to safety. You decide now is the time to hide things from us.
He lets his left-hand fall and points to the pouch.
Now is not the time to hide things. Give me the pouch now or I will be forced to remove it from you. Trust me, you do not want me to do that.
Christian continues to beckon uncle to give him the pouch. His weapon slides out slowly.
Do not be a fool. You are moments away from being rewarded for all your hard work. I would think twice before disagreeing with my master's wishes.
Without even looking at the two demons, Christian makes his plans know to the others.
If either one of them tries anything. Cut them down. Starting with the imp first...he is too pretty.
Bydar stays near his fellows, but if he finds any wounded on the way he may pause to at least channel.
His eyes do narrow at the hiding of the pouch, but he sees Christin has it handled so far...
Syretia puts a bit more distance between her and their "escorts," in anticipation of the coming violence.
Brandt walked easily among the traitors and their infernal accomplices; waiting until Christians word.
Christian places his left hand on the shoulder of "uncle" and stops him, his grip firm and demanding.
The young lord tilts his head and looks off into the distance.
At once my master.
He then turns the would-be cultists towards him. His right-hand rests on his own weapon as his voice is filled with disappointment.
After all that we have done to get you out of there and to safety. You decide now is the time to hide things from us.
He lets his left-hand fall and points to the pouch.
Now is not the time to hide things. Give me the pouch now or I will be forced to remove it from you. Trust me, you do not want me to do that.
"Now, now...I'm just making sure I don't drop the offerings for Mother," he explains calmly. "Worse still, we wouldn't want some urchin on the street to steal them, thinking it was just a coin purse, especially when we're so close to escape."
This interruption further serves your purposes, as it distracts Uncle and allows you to continue guiding him where you want him. Bydar suspects he is not terribly familiar with the layout of Restov, so he is trusting your guidance.
"Now, now...I'm just making sure I don't drop the offerings for Mother," he explains calmly. "Worse still, we wouldn't want some urchin on the street to steal them, thinking it was just a coin purse, especially when we're so close to escape."
Christian continues to move them forward.
That is understandable and appreciated.His hand is still stretched outwards.
I will just hold that till we get out of the city. I would hate to explain why Mother's offerings were picked up by some urchin.
Uncle's eyes narrow slightly, looking between the velveteen pouch and Christian's hand.
"Why, certainly," he soon agrees with an avuncular tone, passing it along. "Let us continue. I want to be out of this wretched city as quickly as possible."
After winding through a couple alleys, you soon lead Uncle and his thinly disguised demons onto a main thoroughfare that leads towards the nearest city gate. Owing to the late hour, the road is deserted, especially since most people still out and about have been drawn away by the commotion around the burning building.
There is a nearby cross street that you recognize would be the most likely route for Baron Zlatko's reinforcements. You don't see or hear them yet, so you will need to stall Uncle long enough for them to intervene.
As they get closer to the rendez-vous point, Orlog signal the group to stay close to the shadows. "Nothing wrong so far, but trouble always seems to creep up when you get close to the goal and everything is quiet. Should we sent the scout out boss?"
Brandt nods, taking his cue, and motions for the group to stay put for a moment I'll move ahead, shelter in the corner of this building and I will return when the coast is clear.....
He throws his cloak around himself, the cloak warping its color to blend with the urban terrain surrounding the man, and he creeps forward with Fenrir in tow....
The noble smiles at Orlog.
Best to be safe, we are too close to let our guard down.
Christian nods as Brandt head off.
Make contact with our assets. Tell them to get the horses and send word to the mages to have their circle ready.
Christian watches for a longtime as Brandt moves out of sight, his hand feeling the contents of the pouch that he acquired from "Uncle"
I have a feeling I am not going to like this. Could this be all those fingers that were taken?
Turning to face the cultist, Christian shows a look of excitement.
Soon we will be out of this retched place, and we can start to enact the next phase of...our...master's plan.
Christian shows a smile at that last phrase.
It was not an easy task to find you. You did well enough in hiding your movements. Impressive and this is why I was dispatched to retrieve you. We know of a few other groups around the stolen lands. If you know rumors of others, it will help us strengthen our forces. Every day our numbers grow.
Uncle eagerly presses onward, although he insists on keeping Lord Christian in front of him. You aren't sure whether he's trying to keep an eye on him or if he simply wants to keep him as a first line of defense.
"How did you come to the Mother's embrace," he idly asks as you walk, crossing the intersection. "I'm always fascinated by the moments of epiphany and enlightenment that have guided our kin. Even though each story is unique, I find curiously common themes in our experiences."
Christian stops and looks at uncle. A bit of curiosity on his face.
This is twice now that you have avoided the questions that I have asked of you.
He tilts his head to the side for a second before stating.
A word of advice, do not neglect the questions my master will ask of you.
...as for my story. I was born to the disliking of my father. My beauty was not what he desired in a son. My mother took her life in shame of my appearance. I survived decades of abuse until my master found me. With his guidance I learn to embrace my beauty and accept that which was in my heart. Soon afterwards I sacrificed my father to my new mother.
Christian stops and looks at uncle. A bit of curiosity on his face.
This is twice now that you have avoided the questions that I have asked of you.
"Have a care for our kin's safety," he says with a fatherly reproach. "We are still in hostile territory, and the repeat failings of my subordinates tonight have left the enemy on high alert. Whether or not we escape the city and survive the night, we cannot allow unwanted ears hearing where other churches have been settled."
When the subject changes to the fabricated story Christian provides, Uncle offers sympathy and support, apparently accepting the tale as gospel truth.
Those of you keeping a sharp watch can hear hastened footsteps coming down the cross street, which you have just put behind you. If you can stall Uncle just a few more moments, Baron Zlatko's reinforcements will be upon you.
My apologies, my desire to find more of like-minded individuals sometimes get the better of me.
Christian accepts the support offered by "Uncle"
What of you? How did you come to mother's care?
Brandt and Fenrir range ahead, desperately searching for where the support is, and then wracking his brain on what the weaknesses of fiendish creatures is, and settling on a plan to first kill the uncle and then worry about the demonic presences later....
What of you? How did you come to mother's care?
Uncle sighs mightily. Though he needs a moment to steel himself, he readily shares his own experiences. This seems to be just the right thread to pull to stall him because he slows his pace and even stops for a few seconds at a time to tell his story.
"I like to think that I was born right into the Great Mother's care. My sense of style and love of finery is more than just an expensive folly; they serve to conceal some rather gruesome sights, and I'm not just talking about my body hair," he adds with an impish, joking smile.
"I was born with very severe deformities. Essentially, important things that should by on the inside were on the outside. The Pharasmin priest my family summoned to cure me said there was nothing to be done and that I was destined for the Boneyard before I saw a second winter. My mortal mother was fine with that and suggested just disposing of me. Mind you, I learned this all much later; obviously, I don't remember such early, foggy scenes no matter how dire.
"The midwife who helped deliver me, though, approached my father with a solution. Thus, he became a believer, and I found my true mother, the Great Mother. Lamashtu allowed me to live when others wrote me off as dead, so I've dedicated that life to her."
As for fiendish enemies, you can only make guesses about what might hurt them. Cold iron? Blessed steel? Silver? Some other rare metal?
Christian also stops and turns Uncle to face him.
Through all those hardships, you remained strong, and you found what was important to you in the end. That is encouraging. That our believers can survive and ultimately thrive is a blessing from our mother herself.
Christian motions for the two demons and uncle to stand together. Their backs towards what he hopes is the friendly forces he desires to see. His sword comes forth easily and with a hand raise as a sign that this is an unthreatening gesture.
This blade was part of my past and was used to bring me to see that I have but one true mother.
He does not remove his eyes from the three, but he does concentrate on his peripheral vision to see beyond them.
Come on damn it. I am losing my patience here. I am not sure how much longer I can pretend to be like f*+%ing depraved uncle here. Granted he had a s%$%ting start to life but that does not give you the right to butcher people in the name of your god. F+&$ing sick.
I swore and oath to my master on this blade. An oath that I hold above everything else in my life...except mother of course. I swear to you here and now that I will protect you and yours against all threats. I will lend aid to you and those of our faith when asked for. I will supply you with what you need to spread the faith to the Stolen Lands and beyond. My coffers are your coffers.
"Halt!
The shout comes like a crack of thunder, rending asunder the quiet of night.
All heads turn to the source, finding a squad of eight house guards, outfitted in the livery of Baron Zlatko's branch of House Medyved. Most of the men and women carry polearms at the ready, while the sergeant grips a broad-bladed sword.
"Hekaton! Delay them!" Uncle shouts to his broad-shouldered, cloaked demon servitor. He then turns to Lord Christian and the rest of the party, a plaintive look in his eyes. "Come! We can still make it!"
Christian looks to Uncle with relief on his face.
He speaks loudly for all to hear.
Destroy the demons, beware of the imp and his invisibility.
The noble raises his weapon that conveniently was in his hand to point directly at the throat of Uncle. The tip resting on the skin of his neck.
It is over. I pray you will reconsider the path you have been set on. There is still hope for you to find a better light.
Christian's body is ready to react. His stance is set.
Your demons are welcome to try and stop me but you and I both know that my blade will be out the back of your head before they can. Surrender and I will do everything in my power to see that you have a chance at redemption. It is that or the boneyard.
The young lord's face is stone cold serious.
You know in your heart it is over...choose to live.
A melange of emotions plays across Uncle's face. It begins with confusion, then quickly morphs into pain and betrayal. In several fleeting instants, spouts of anger boil to the surface, but they are quickly subsumed by regret.
"I see," he muses sadly.
His hulking servitor Hekaton, revealed to be a jackal-headed Yaenit demon, flings itself against the combined arms of the house guards and the party. Uncle seems unmoved, heedless even as his bodyguard is cut to ribbons behind him by Bydar and Orlog. The imp attempts to flee but is shot down by Brandt and Syretia before its body can even become fully invisible.
Uncle whispers something only meant for Lord Christian.
Christian does not whisper or lean in. He speaks plainly for all to hear.
I expect as much from her and the likes of her servants. That is how they work. It is their way or death and misery to those that do not share your views. They wish to see suffering on all that hold different ideas instead of working with others to improve life.
Christian smiles and nods.
There are ways of getting information from a person. Dead or alive. It is amazing what a person will say when faced with death...anything really. That is why speaking with a soul is so much easier. They cannot lie...especially when certain spells are enacted. I wonder what neat little tidbits float around in your head.
Christian lets out a breath.
Well Uncle, that time may come when I am repaid for my actions, but you have made your choice. I doubt you will see any of it. May Pharasma have mercy on your soul.
Christian pauses for a moment. Then reaches up and plucks a few hairs from uncle's head and holds them up in front of his face. The young lord's face regains its stone-cold seriousness.
Just in case you escape justice. I will hunt you down and there will be no mercy. I will go scorched earth on your ass.
He steps back as he is taken into custody.
For what it is worth...I did have hopes that you would have accepted my offer for a second chance. I truly did. You chose poorly.
His hulking servitor Hekaton, revealed to be a jackal-headed Yaenit demon, flings itself against the combined arms of the house guards and the party. Uncle seems unmoved, heedless even as his bodyguard is cut to ribbons behind him by Bydar and Orlog. The imp attempts to flee but is shot down by Brandt and Syretia before its body can even become fully invisible.
Bydar is outmatched as a warrior by many of his compatriots, but the divine has it's uses against demons. The spiritual glaive that manifests strikes home more than once and the Shelynite does his part! That's not to say he goes unwounded in the melee, but that he can tend to after.
As he staggers closer to see who else might need healing, he overhears, and looks with concern for Christian's pain as his Uncle casts redemption aside.
"I'm sorry, you gave him every chance."
Brandt breathes out as the third arrow leaps from his bow toward the imp, and Looks down at Fenrir, who never left his master's side. Crossing behind the soldiers, his form blurring in and out with the elvish cloak he rejoins the group, Well done Christian, deception isn't my strongest point, but we somehow pulled that off. Do we have any idea why they were targeting those house members specifically? Did we get any clear indication? Kicking at a scrap of debris on the ground, Brandt looks at the others, May we for home in the morning? I'm ready to be done with this city and its treachery.
Syretia makes a slight, almost lazy gesture with one hand toward the imp, and a sudden lance of freezing energy encases the creature in crushing ice.
She turns back just in time to overhear the whispered threat and, rather than answering with a clever quip or grave pronouncement of her own, erupts into giggles.
"Don't you get it?" she gasps in between fits, "this is your repayment! All your scheming, everything you've sacrificed, it all comes to a humiliating end in an alleyway!"
It takes most of a minute for her to fight down the laughter and regain her composure, by which point the cathartic giggles have given way to a high cackle. Syretia wipes at her eye and smiles.
Well she may not have gone about it the way I would have but she does have a point.
Why am I even trying to save this person...look what he has done.
Take a look at where you are and more importantly who is beside you right now. I know not how to say this that it will not come off as nasty...so here goes. Your mother cares not at all for you. You were just a pawn in here agenda. You did not fail tonight...she abandoned you in your time of need. I doubt I will be able to convince you, so I ask that you take these last few moments you have left to look deep and hard at your relationship with Lamashtu. Think and look at who gains from your devotion.
"Demons spend more time fighting against each other than working toward their goal. You really want to work with people that spend their time planning to stab you in the back the moment you need them?" Orlog raises an eyebrow as he ask his question.
The Medvyed house guards descend upon Uncle once his surrender is certain. They pull a sack over his head, confiscate his sword, and clap his wrists behind his back in manacles. They hustle him away, clearly trying to keep this family embarrassment from being discovered by the public. They vanish him into the dead of night, taking him to Baron Zlatko to be imprisoned and questioned.
...
About a week after you've returned to Charis, a courier arrives from Restov, clad in the livery of House Medvyed. He delivers a message from Baron Zlatko, providing some closure to the events in the city.
Uncle's identity is Baron Mordacai Urzav Medyved, head of the Urzav branch of the house, based out of an old fortified manor at the mouth of the Valley of Fire in the Icerime Peaks. Baron Zlatko is still investigating just how far the worship of Lamashtu has spread among the Urzavs, but he laments how his efforts are hampered by Lord Gurev's demands that the matter be kept as quiet as possible to avoid public scandal.
Baron Mordacai had apparently learned that the adventurers responsible for eradicating the Lamashtan cell in the Stolen Lands were in the city. He bribed the gang of young Medvyed men with promises of being elevated within the house if they eliminated the party, claiming that the targets were actually hostile agents working against House Medvyed. When they failed, he moved to eliminate the men both as punishment and to cover his own tracks.
The grim trophies he collected from victims is apparently some manner of Lamasthan practice. By taking the ring fingers of these men and burning them in some unhallowed ritual, it supposedly weds the victims to the Mother of Monsters, rendering them as servants to Lamasthu in the Great Beyond. Baron Zlatko is highly dismissive that there's any weight to this practice.
Baron Zlatko closes the letter by warning you to be vigilant for any agents working for the Urzavs who might come to your lands seeking vengeance.
The courier also imparts two gifts that Baron Zlatko has bequeathed to the party.
The first is Baron Mordacai's enchanted Qadiran sword; Baron Zlatko assures you that he had the weapon thoroughly investigated, and that it carries no curses hidden within its steel. The second is a document that serves essentially as a promissory note, guaranteeing that House Medvyed will help subsidize future construction within your town.
In Charis, Brandt begins restocking his collection of arrows, putting any extras aside for use by the troops. Looking up from where he's setting glue to feathers, he listens to the missive from the Medvyed courier, waiting until he's gone to speak further. It seems our deeds carry beyond our simple borders, to what end I am uncertain of, but it seems the cult of Lamashtu is going to have it in for us; I'm fine with the conflict, but their magics can be foul and we should be prepared? Syretia, Bydar, Orlogg, any advice there? He looks to the more arcane and religious members of the council for advice. Continuing on after the discussion, What other loose ends do we have at the moment, We know there may be green-skinned monsters sighted near our borders, such as they are, the Dragons seem to be settled, and that's what we know??
Syretia gives a dismissive shrug. "If this Uncle is the best retribution they could come up with, I doubt we have much to fear from the Lamashtans again. If they try again, we'll destroy them a third time."
Lira Landusk and her hunters-turned-militia eagerly accept the arrows crafted by Brandt, glad to have ammunition of more professional quality than the ones they have been fletching themselves from whittled wood and chicken feathers.
Upon return to Charis, you receive a number of briefings from your vassals regarding how the settlement has fared in your absence.
Cavan has been struggling to rig up temporary shelters for settlers that have been flocking to your land, including Oluff the Tall and the refugee children. Fortunately, Oluff offers no complaints about sleeping in tents, and he has tried to sell it to the children as an adventure, camping on the wild frontier.
Warden Garess glumly reports that he has so far managed to keep the new arrivals from generating too much unrest or crime.
Sapphira and Mr. Pink have had to make some spies from other River Kingdoms "disappear," stowing the new statues down in the labyrinth.
Marshal Narthropple has been patrolling the outermost limits of your territory in response to sightings of trolls, lizardfolk, or some other kind of "hulking, green beasts." He reports having no such encounters of his own, so he remains skeptical of their existence.
"Have you been able to find any firsthand witnesses, at least?" Syretia asks, perturbed by the idea.
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Bydar did drop by to visit his brother before they left, but it was uneventful for the most part for him. He ... had something he wanted to confess to, but in the end couldn't bring himself to it. That said, it was otherwise a moment of joy for him to behold his brother again.
He hopes his own House shows kindly interest towards Charis.
.........
When they returned to Charis, the grim news of those youth being eliminated to cover tracks makes Bydar shake his head, "Plots and intrigues are a blight on any community." If it weren't so uncouth, he'd spit on the ground in disgust, "As for that practice... the gods do not give up their worshipers so easily."
In Charis, Brandt begins restocking his collection of arrows, putting any extras aside for use by the troops. Looking up from where he's setting glue to feathers, he listens to the missive from the Medvyed courier, waiting until he's gone to speak further. It seems our deeds carry beyond our simple borders, to what end I am uncertain of, but it seems the cult of Lamashtu is going to have it in for us; I'm fine with the conflict, but their magics can be foul and we should be prepared? Syretia, Bydar, Orlogg, any advice there? He looks to the more arcane and religious members of the council for advice. Continuing on after the discussion, What other loose ends do we have at the moment, We know there may be green-skinned monsters sighted near our borders, such as they are, the Dragons seem to be settled, and that's what we know??
"One thing I can do is make sure that any who are considered malformed or somehow disabled know they too have beauty within. A beautiful soul pleases Shelyn no matter the form that holds it. And an ugly soul makes her weep even if the one who holds it seems to be perfect on the outside. Lamashtu feeds on the desperate who feel they have no place else to go. But they do. Shelyn has a place for them if they wish. And so do many other goodly gods. I'll make sure my services say as much. Beyond that? I suggest we make sure wells and water supplies go untainted."
Cavan has been struggling to rig up temporary shelters for settlers that have been flocking to your land, including Oluff the Tall and the refugee children. Fortunately, Oluff offers no complaints about sleeping in tents, and he has tried to sell it to the children as an adventure, camping on the wild frontier.
Bydar listens then nods, "Thank you, Cavan. I appreciate the work you're doing, and will pay more than lip service in doing so. Let me know when you want me to get out of this armor and get into some work a day clothes and I'll listen to YOUR orders and try to help out making new houses."
Warden Garess glumly reports that he has so far managed to keep the new arrivals from generating too much unrest or crime.
Bydar nods, and makes a note to also praise the virtues of the law abiding folks.
Sapphira and Mr. Pink have had to make some spies from other River Kingdoms "disappear," stowing the new statues down in the labyrinth.
Bydar winces, "I .. have mixed feelings about this." And he throws up his hands and looks heavenward. But does little else. For now.
Marshal Narthropple has been patrolling the outermost limits of your territory in response to sightings of trolls, lizardfolk, or some other kind of "hulking, green beasts." He reports having no such encounters of his own, so he remains skeptical of their existence.
"Interesting and alarming," He concedes and looks to the more wood wise "Should we send out patrols?"
As for that offer of help with their next great building, he smiles, "Now there is a boon. We need more houses, but half cost? Generous," A glance to Syretia, "Do you think the group should hold onto that one for when the idea of the Academy is possible?" If he recalled, she was also hoping to make one eventually, "Just as our suggestion, I mean?"
.............
In addiction to helping Cavan (With Stone shape for foundations if need be), Bydar makes sure to visit Nanya, priestess of Arundhat. She nearly lost her soul to a cursed idol and while that curse was lifted, he wants to make sure she's feeling more secure and even happy if he can.
"The shrine to Torag is the only one we have going currently " He's actually relieved to finally have any shrine going, and as there is an actual priest of Torag among their number, he is sure it will go well, "But I hope you don't mind if I ask your aid in helping flowers grow and adorn the city in natural beauty?"
He glances at her with a kindness, and while respectful, he does hope to get to know her better. Talking with his brother, even if not all was fully open, has made him realize much of his past is just that, in the past. And what was a love twisted, was salvaged by Shelyn's grace. He wonders, if Nanya is feeling herself again, if he might invite her to dinner to see if they might get to know each other better.
If Nanya needs time to focus on herself, he will abandon that idea. I do hope Romance blooms for some around here, if not me. He ponders anew which of his friends he might introduce to some of the newcomers and see what might arise there.
Brandt sits back and listens to all the reports, taking everything in. Bydar, you aren't wrong with your concerns. Let me speak with Lira and see what our people report too on the ground on the trolls and the like, she's well connected to the populace, and I... trust her voice. the Ulfen blushes at admitting that.
He straightens, readdressing Bydar, I think you can best root out what influence of the mother of monsters has in our lands, and I know Pink and Sapphira can help keep a diligent ear to the ground, for I see that malfeasance as being foremost in our immediate concerns, whilst their champions, as Syretia has rightly pointed out, have fallen to our cunning and blades, their influence with the downtrodden is something to be concerned with. Your blessings in the Eternal Rose's grace could be well placed to help guide our future here. I know the Hunstmaster treats your lady with Respect, and as you know, I follow suit, although as a warrior and woodsman it is different for me.
He pauses a moment, caught in his emotions, and then continues, I think we must provide for those who seek our shelter and provenance. We need to provide them with places to lay their heads, but I will remind all of us, that the need for defending their safe haven cannot be ignored for long. Our personal skill with blade and spell can't forever forestall the ambitions of the others in the Stolen Lands, given Pink and Sapphira's report.
The normally reticent Ulfen then turns to the advisors, What of these spies, of course, your discretion in relocating them to places where they cannot report back is appreciated. But, must we concern ourselves with the machinations of our neighbors? Do either of you know from where they hailed? Is there a pattern? I'm charged with defending our humble claim, and having the best defensive team in advance, which is the both of you, helps us, but we need to know who's eyes pry.
Brandt seeks out Lira, Thank you for keeping everything moving forward while I was trying to play politics in Brevoy. What, if anything, are folks coming to Charis saying about these greenskins to the west? he pauses, awkwardly, and what of you? What do you seek here? How can I be of service to you, for I am reassured by your presence here, and I have grown to trust that equally to my companions whom I've risked life and limb with. But you know these people, and I'm far removed from them, please tell me what you feel and know from everything he says in an awkward rush.
I am glad that is over with and pray that it is truly over. Come let us get some sleep and relax after this evening's events.
***Morning***
We should get supplies and collect the reward on the dragon. That will put an end to that situation. Hopefully we can make good time to Bokken, stop by Oleg's and then on our way home.
***Charis***
Please see to the needs of the courier. Make sure he is well taken care of.
***Cavan***
Master Cavan, what is it you need to facilitate housing newcomers? Perhaps a school for engineering. You pass along your knowledge to those that want to learn all while building housing.
***Oluff the Tall ***
Please send word to Master Oluff that I would like to meet with him and the children at his earliest convenience.
While we are waiting...
Is there any spells that can detect who a person is related to? A way to track their bloodline?
When Oluff arrives...
I thank you for taking the risk and great care to get here safely with the children. It shows to your character and to your skills.
Christian extends his hand to the large man.
Your actions are worthy of a skald's attention.
I am hoping that we can try and figure out who these children are and whose family is missing them?
***Warden Garess***
Your efforts do not go unnoticed. Please do not hesitate to ask for assistance or funding to hire more personel.
***Sapphira and Mr. Pink ***
While I am not certain that is the best way to handle those situations, I am sure that this can be rectified to our benefit. Reversing the condition while costly will defiantly generate much intelligence on their employer. A stone statue is a very powerful way to
sway the tongue.
***Marshal Narthropple***
Your report is pleasing to my ears but we still must remain vigilant. Keep at it.
Christian later decided to visit Sapphira.
Lady Sapphira, your services are much appreciated. If you have some time I wish to sit and talk with you.
He waits patiently for a response and proceeds if she so wishes.
Your eyes and ears see and hear things that I do not. It is those senses that I am in need of. Not too long ago we dealt with a cell of Lamashtu Cultists as you know. We again ran afoul of another cell, this time in Restov. We took care of this one, but some words were spoken that raises concerns. I am asking you to keep your eyes and ears out for more cells that will come into the city. I would like to keep that evil taint out.
He hands her some of the hairs that he took from uncle.
These belong to the person who ran that cell. He is still alive as a few days ago that is albeit in a prison cell. I want to know what has befallen him and pray that he never escapes. It is my hope that you could use these to track him or some scrying magic.
Christian continues to talk and stops short when he goes to leave.
He slowly turns to face her but respecting her wishes, averts her gaze.
L... Sapphira. Are you happy here? Is there anything I can do for you? I know that Bydar has spoken of curing you, but we never asked if that was something you wanted or even if you thought of it as a curse. I will respect your wishes as to what you want. I will accept you for you. It is the least I can do after all that you have done for us and the people of this city. They do not know the sacrifices and services that you have provided for them. I thank you and I thank you for them.
He turns to part.
When and if you are ready to tell me your wishes, I am here.
Bydar, you aren't wrong with your concerns. Let me speak with Lira and see what our people report too on the ground on the trolls and the like, she's well connected to the populace, and I... trust her voice. the Ulfen blushes at admitting that.
Bydar notices the blush, but is wise enough not to call attention it and he hides his delight at the hint what that might mean. He instead merely nods.
I think you can best root out what influence of the mother of monsters has in our lands, and I know Pink and Sapphira can help keep a diligent ear to the ground, for I see that malfeasance as being foremost in our immediate concerns, whilst their champions, as Syretia has rightly pointed out, have fallen to our cunning and blades, their influence with the downtrodden is something to be concerned with. Your blessings in the Eternal Rose's grace could be well placed to help guide our future here. I know the Hunstmaster treats your lady with Respect, and as you know, I follow suit, although as a warrior and woodsman it is different for me.
The cleric feels a flush of pleasure at this praise, for he values the respect of his peers, "Thank you. Erastil's wisdom has guided many a family towards love and I pray it will be so here in these lands. I'll strive to do what I can to make sure the goodly gods have a voice to let the downtrodden know that they need not turn to the Demon Mother."
While we are waiting...Is there any spells that can detect who a person is related to? A way to track their bloodline?
"If you like, next time I pray I can ask Shelyn for that gift... it has some limitations... " And he explains them as best he recalls.
Then he nods, "And... excellent idea. The more we learn about the heritage of each child, the more we can realize what is arrayed against them."
"Of the three spies we intercepted, one was from Pitax, one was from Daggermark, and the third...we couldn't actually get anything from him. The others either carried evidence that betrayed them or we got them to let slip their allegiances. The third man was actually halfway decent at his job. If I had to guess, I'd say he was from Mivon. But like I said, it's just a guess."
When you mention your latest encounter with Lamashtan cultists, your enforcer generates a sound akin to a sigh and a growl blended together.
"I actually naively hoped we were done with those wanks," she says, exasperated by their continued nuisance. "While you were gone, I also pursued all the leads we gathered about Delphine, that woman who tried to recruit me in Pitax for some Lamashtan coven. After speaking with or observing just about everyone woman who's come to town, I can say with certainty that she is not here now.
"If there are multiple Lamasthan cells active in the region, she may be a link between them, acting as a recruiter."
She accepts the proffered hairs, agreeing to do what she can with them to learn about the enemy.
"Ugh, I hate philosophical questions like that. I got plenty of those from talking with that Vudran priestess."
Despite her objection, she actually seems to sincerely contemplate the question.
"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am happy," she says, a hint of surprise in her voice, as though she wasn't expecting the answer herself. "My old measure used to be just whether or not I was still alive. Hells, death certainly found enough of my sisters. That's why I didn't want to follow their path, all claws and hissing and running afoul of monster hunters and the like.
"Incidentally, that's also why I didn't take up with Delphine and her Lamashtans, if that's what you're concerned about. Even if she didn't creep me out, I knew that if I threw my lot in with them, I'd meet my end by either some adventurer's sword or upon their own sacrificial altar.
"I've got a business, I've got some money, I've got a position of power...I've got a pet bird," she adds with a teasing tone, craning her neck to look around for Mr. Pink.
"I guess I got what I wanted, after all," she says, allowing herself to sound wistful. "Although I don't think I need to be 'cured.' I'm not some boil that needs to be lanced. I like having my special defense, like a favorite dagger hidden under a garter.
"Maybe some sort of enchanted lenses or goggles? I could keep them on when I need to look someone in the eye without it being the final time. That could be a fair compromise."
She is a little spaced out and fails to notice your approach. Once she does realize you're nearby, she silently startles in surprise. Of course, rather than utter any sort of shriek, instead, when she finds her voice after a moment or two, she begins to laugh.
"Sorry, sorry, I was just...I was just reciting some mantras in my head, and I guess...I guess I really fell into obliviousness, huh?" she says, really amused by her own faux pas.
Her attention is finally ripped from the arrow when you begin asking about her desires and insights.
"Wow, those are some serious questions. Well...I think what we want isn't that complicated, when you get right down to it. We're all looking for a bit of safety and stability. A lot of the folks coming here are sick of the politics and street duels of Brevoy. Others are frontier folk who've been scratching out a living on the fringes for years, and they're keen to not have to do that anymore.
"I think we might start seeing people fleeing Numeria and Galt. We...should be patient with them," she says grimly. "They'll probably be putting some very awful things behind them. I hope you and Lord Christian don't have any problems with the broken and the beaten flocking to your banner. Even if they don't know anything about Charis, they know it can't be like what they're leaving behind, so that unknown newness has quite the appeal.
"I guess, on the whole, all of your prospective subjects are people hunting for second chances," she concludes with a slight shrug.
Three spies all to the west, southwest of us. Thieves, assassins, a Tyrant and Sworlords. They all could be looking in on us because of the Taldan advance. Maybe?
She offers some suggestions on incorporating flowering trellises and other architectural techniques transplanted from her home back in Jalmeray in order to improve the aesthetics of buildings in Charis. The two of you pass a very enjoyable time together in this way.
Lira's lips twist about as she thinks about something, weighing whether to speak.
"I have a request. Kind of an awkward request, at that," she says, mustering a bit of courage. "I mentioned, not long after we first met, that my family originally hails from Galt, but they fled the Revolution. Well, with Taldor invading Galt, there's probably going to be a whole new wave of refugees moving northwards.
"If any of them make it this far...don't welcome them with open arms," she says grimly.
"One bitter autumn, I was visiting my uncle for our yearly hunting trip. We encountered a man who was lost, cold, and hungry. My uncle, being a good man, invited him to return with us to my uncle's cabin. That stranger turned out to be a Gray Gardener, and he murdered my uncle for being an 'enemy of the Revolution.'
"Galt's anarchy is a plague. Just because you don't see any signs doesn't mean the person is clean."
He definitely takes notes! And yes, enjoys the back and forth. Romance may never bloom between them (or it might, Shelyn only knows) but a friendship certainly seems to be growing from mutual respect, and THAT is a great gift!
He pauses a moment more, I am sorry for your loss, and it sounds your uncle was a decent man - he deserved better than to be duplicitously murdered by those with no cause but chaos. he pauses, resting his hand on the arrows he crafted, there are many wonderous things out there, and people with different ideas and thoughts than our own - but your words of caution are not lost upon me. We must carefully embrace with an eye to our safety. Thank you for sharing with me. I will consider this in our councils.
While still in Restov, Orlog visit the dwarven communities. Is main goal is to get some contacts and possible rest and resupply area. He also uses this time to do some recruiting. No point of wasting opportunities, if any present themselves. He also looks to forge supplies for the magical enchantment of arms and armors.
Once back in Charis, his first stop is the treasury. He makes sure all is in order and locks away the supplies he just brought back for later. Once he is sure everything is ok, he heads over to his favorite drinking spot, Sapphira's inn.
"I tell you, Cavan is an amazing fellow. I thank Shelyn we came upon such a talented man... oh, there he is now. Have you had much chance to talk to him?" they seemed to have 'happened' onto the Carpenter.
"Oh, Cavan, have you a moment? Syretia and I were just looking at your work on some of the houses and the new trellis additions."
"I can't say that I have, but that's probably because I spend all my time in the tavern." Syretia's face reddens a bit once she realizes how that sounds. "Not drinking, I mean! Not that there's anything wrong with that—hello, Cavan! How are you? Is it suddenly hot out?"