The woman sneers at Cyrus's words, and another pulse rips out from her body to coat the paladin and occultist in more necrotizing energy. Recently healed wounds split open, and spots of skin begin rotting as the negative energy washes over them.
[color=green]
Rapier Guy (dead)
Redhead (0 dmg)
Cyrus (14/21 hp)
Blonde Psycho (she ded now)
Lili (13/18 hp)
Rhugarr (-6/11 hp, unconscious and freaking stabilized again)
Crazy Halfling (29 damage, finally dead)
[/color]
Lili finally reaches Cyrus's side.
Cyrus, after several struggling attempts to pin down this slippery eel of a woman, finally snags her other arm and locks her in a bear hug, putting one leg around hers and locking it in place.
She snarls and lets out one final pulse of negative energy in a desperate bid to end her opponents.
While she manages to blast both of them for one final, excruciating burst of necrotizing energy, she goes limp in Cyrus's grip and doesn't struggle against any efforts to tie her up.
Cyrus fastens the manacles over the cleric's wrists and finds a piece of cloth that will suffice as a temporary gag.
He says to Lili, "Take my two potions and give them to Rhugarr. I would heal him but I do not want to take my eyes off of her for one second."
He retrieves the unholy symbol from the ground and studies it.
Lili grabs Cyrus's two potions and rushes back to Rhugarr's side. Noticing for the first time the true extent of his injuries, she shakes her head. "I don't know how you aren't dead. I hope these are enough to bring you back."
The unholy symbol bears the sigil of Norgorber, god of murder and secrets.
Lili pours both potions down the dwarf's throat, and he finally wakens and staggers to his feet. "Ye sonuvab&&~&, I'll tear ye tae piece--" He stops when he sees the carnage in the alley, and Cyrus and Lili standing upright. "Oh. Well then."
He immediately follows that with two bursts of healing.
He looks at the others sheepishly. "Sorry I wasn't any help. Bloody embarrassing. Who in Torag's name are these miscreants?"
Lili can't help herself when she sees Rhugarr come to; she leans down and gives him a big hug. "I'm so glad you're okay! I'm, uh, real sorry about the gravel on your intestines." She is positively beaming.
Rhugarr blushes and returns the hug fiercely. "Tha's thanks tae you, little lady. I 'preciate it." He stops and blinks. "Wait. Gravel?"
A few minutes pass as onlookers come to gawk before city guards finally arrive. It takes several minutes to get things sorted, but they eventually haul the bound and gagged cleric away for processing and questioning (they use their own manacles, returning Cyrus his set).
The guard captain, a harassed-looking gnome with shockingly blue hair, nods to the trio. "We'll keep you posted if we learn anything from her. We'll send word to the Grand Lodge. I'm glad you three made it through that in one piece. Not gonna believe this, but we're busy arresting that performance troupe. Eyewitness accounts give me reason to believe they were in on it. Happens once in awhile, fresh Pathfinder recruits get jumped. Robbers see you as having just enough experience to have gathered some lucrative equipment and money, but not enough experience to properly defend yourselves." He snorts and crosses his arms. "Glad you taught them otherwise. Anyway, have a good day. You'll hear from us soon, I hope."
He turns to oversee a group of watch medics handling the corpses.
Cyrus looks up to see Rhugarr standing. "Ah, good to see you on your feet friend. That little guy packed a wallop. It was touch and go there for a minute. As for who these people are, I have no idea, but I saw this one" -- he points to the halfling -- "watching us ealier, so it seems a safe bet it has to do with Society business. Rhugarr, do me a favor and hold this woman for a second."
Once Rhugarr has the cleric secure, Cyrus makes a show of dropping the holy symbol on the ground and smashing it with his hammer. He says, mostly under his breath, "Accursed thing."
Then he walks to each of his companions in turn and asks for Sarenrae's blessing in further healing their wounds.
He is just about ready to take the cleric back to the Venture Captain when the city guard arrives.
When you arrive back at the Grand Lodge, you are not immediately debriefed. Venture-Captain Valsin is out of the office and you are asked to wait until his return. It takes almost an hour, and Rhugarr looks more and more nervous as time goes on, tugging at his beard braids.
When the trio is finally called into his office, the big man sits at his neatly arranged desk, going over several pieces of parchment. "Been reading the field reports on your missions today." When he looks up at the group, his face is utterly inscrutable. "I see some missteps here, Lili, Rhugarr. It's important to trust your team members to do right, but what's right isn't always clear. Trust your instincts, and if it feels like something is the wrong course, never be afraid to speak your mind. When you're on a team of Pathfinders, you don't fail. Your team fails. Keep that in mind." He gives Lili a look of poorly-contained amusement. "Also, be more mindful of traps." He pulls out two octagonal brass-lined boxes and pushes them in front of Lili and Rhugarr. "Wayfinders. They mark you as official members of the Pathfinder Society."
He then pulls a third wayfinder from the drawer and sets it next to him. "Master Darkshield, Miss Quicklight. I would like to have a quick discussion with Master Blackstenius alone, if you don't mind."
"Listen, Venture Captain, I jes' wanna say--" Rhugarr starts, but Ambrus holds up a hand.
"You've gained loyalty to your fellow Agents, and that is an admirable trait, Rhugarr, but you don't need to fret. Cyrus isn't in trouble. I just want to have a chat with him." He turns to Cyrus. "I pride myself on reading people, and meaning no offense, but you're an easy book. You have concerns. I'd like to discuss them, if you're willing." He looks at Lili and the dwarf. "You're dismissed. Thank you, Agents."
Rhugarr looks uncertainly at Ambrus, then gives Cyrus's shoulder a reassuring pat. "Be out'n the hall, lad." He shuffles out of the office to wait.
Lili says nothing on her way out of the room, but reaches out and gives Cyrus's hand a squeeze.
Cyrus hesitates for the briefest moment, but then his resolve solidifies. "Yes, Venture Captain. When I became a paladin of Sarenrae, I committed myself to a particular code of conduct. Following this code is vital to my connection with my goddess. Today I associated with a known Sczarni criminal, broke into a warehouse and absconded with property, and had dealings with a noble that keeps devils as servants and associates, all in the name of the Pathfinder Society. Any one of these things on its own is minor, but all of them in a single day, in my first Society mission? It weighs on my mind and my soul. I do not believe my goddess would be pleased with my actions today. What's more, I offered a chance at redemption to a woman that I thought was deserving of it. This action had the opposite of the desired effect. I understand that I acted counter to my instructions, but therein lies the issue: my devotion to Sarenrae comes before my duty to the Pathfinder Society, and it always will. If this will continue to cause problems like I experienced today, then I regret that I must find another path." Cyrus feels his eyes threaten to fill up with tears but wills them to stop. He looks the Venture Captain in the eye. "Sir."
Ambrus listens carefully to Cyrus, fingers steepled before him, and considers the paladin's words for several moments before responding. At no point does he look angry, annoyed, or patronizing. He simply listens, considers, and speaks calmly. It's almost disconcerting from so large a man. One might assume his size would make him more... boisterous.
"You're not the first paladin we've had in the Society, Master Blackstenius, nor would you be the last. I couldn't even tell you how many are members at the moment. So I'm somewhat familiar with the code of conduct. Let me ask you, does yours in particular have a mandate about acting in the greater good?"
"Nothing specific, no sir. I would be happy to recite my code to you, but I suspect you'd prefer a summary. I am to protect my allies with my life. I am to destroy the spawn of Rovagug or die trying. I fight to win; if my opponent is fighting unfairly, I strike quickly and without mercy. I redeem the ignorant with my words, and then my sword. I will not abide evil."
He stops, wondering if he should go on. "There is more, but most important is this: I do not flinch from my faith, and do not fear embarrassment."
This entire time, Cyrus has been standing at attention, speaking formally. Ambrus sees him wrestling with his own discipline, and finally the human wins out. "Allow me to speak freely for a moment. Paladins have a bad reputation for being impractical, inflexible. I do not wish to further this stereotype. But I also worry that compromising my principles in tiny steps will still add up to a giant stride. I do not wish to go down the proverbial slippery slope."
He sits. "I am afraid, sir."
Ambrus actually smiles at that. "Afraid. Hm. Smartest thing you've said all day, lad. The world's a damn scary place."
He sighs and rubs his chin. "I think you have a great deal of potential, Cyrus, but you deal in the good directly in front of you. Nothing wrong with that per se. The world needs it sorely." He shakes his head and folds his hands together on the desk. "We don't deal with the direct good in front of us, Cyrus. We deal in the greater good. The big picture."
He pulls up one of the reports in front of him. "For example. The Gilga Baltwin incident. I find it difficult to believe your code demanded you disobey a direct order and confront the old woman about her lawbreaking. Now, I know Dame Ollysta already gave you an earful. Frankly, I think she overreacted a bit. It's not so doom-and-gloom as she thinks. She tends to be a little pessimistic." He shrugs. "Consequences of a few tours at the Worldwound, I suspect. But your choice is not without consequences. We'll have to spend time and manpower on a counter-disinformation campaign to save face. The Society cannot afford any bad press. Our position is far too tenuous as it is. And that's time and manpower I could have spent on other missions. All because you chose to disobey an order that I can't see how it violates your code." He holds up his hands. "But, I don't live and breathe it like you. It's possible I'm missing something. But consider this. Dame Ollysta is also a paladin of Sarenrae. She didn't start as a venture-captain; she had to spend her time in the trenches with everyone else. She performed countless missions for the Society, never giving up her principles. I'll not say she never botched a mission; it happens, nothing to be ashamed of, so long as it doesn't become habit. But she had a damn good success rate. And as you can see, she's still in the Dawnflower's good graces. Something to consider."
He gives the paladin a small smirk. "As to Zarta, I can't say I blame you. Woman drives me up a bloody wall. And yes, she consorts with devils. You can't throw a rock in Cheliax without hitting a noble with a devil's hand up their arse workin' 'em like a puppet. But Zarta is our in-road to Cheliax. Without her, we can't send agents in there to do our job. The Society has secreted out dozens of dangerous objects and artifacts from Cheliax--with Guaril's help, mind you--that could have hurt a lot of innocent people. They have freed slaves through guile, stealth, and trickery. They have even redeemed the occasional Chelaxian consorting with devils. All because we allow Zarta to play with something from the Dark Vault on occasion. Mind you, I don't give her any of the big blasty things. It's always trinkets like the one I had you retrieve today. Is it a risk? Course it is. But the potential good we can do vastly outweighs the danger, so we have to take that risk." He waves a hand dismissively. "Don't take that as chastisement, mind. She put up a stink about being insulted, how dare we, blah blah blah. But truth is, she needs us almost as much as we need her. I'll send her a bloody fruit basket."
At this point, he points a finger sternly. "And speaking of Guaril, he's a good friend of mine. He may be shadier than a bag of shadows, but he's always done right by me, and his little network of criminals has smuggled over four dozen dangerous artifacts from all over the world to the safety of the Dark Vault. So bear that in mind."
His face softens again and he spreads his hands. "All this is basically to say that those small acts of what you see as questionable morality all work together to try to keep the world from blowing up. We do what we can to protect civilians and uphold the laws of whatever sovereign state we operate in, but plenty of times we have to make a choice between two evils. It comes with the territory. If we have to break laws, or consort with devil-loving Chelaxians, or grit our teeth and stay silent at a criminal we've caught in the act, in order to serve the greater good? We do that."
He slides the third wayfinder forward. "I want you in the Society, lad. I think you could do a whole lot of good here. But if you think it would be too hard on your code, I won't take offense at your leaving. I'll be disappointed, but not offended. We all gotta do what we think is right. 's all we can do, really."
He leans back, hands folded on the desk before him again, and waits patiently for Cyrus to make his choice.
Cyrus sits in silence for a few moments, staring at the wayfinder. His hand involuntarily goes to the sun emblazoned on his breastplate. His gaze rises to the Venture Captain's, and he reaches out to take the wayfinder. "Thank you for your wisdom, Venture Captain. I have much to learn but I pray that I can make both the society and Sarenrae proud."
He stands up and walks to the door, then stops. Hand still on the doorknob, he turns. "Sir. I would like to request an audience with Dame Ollystra. I think there is much she can teach me." He nods at Ambrus and exits the room.
Lili sees the door open and jumps to her feet. Her eyes go directly to Cyrus's hands; did he take the wayfinder? When she sees it in his hand, she yips with delight and runs to embrace him.
Cyrus is achingly envious of Lili's carefree spirit; she is content -- no, delighted -- at the opportunity to continue to go on adventures with her best friend. It seems so simple for her. Still, he smiles despite himself. He doesn't know what he would do without her.
When Cyrus puts his hand on the wayfinder, Ambrus gently lays a hand over his. "I think you're making the right decision lad. And if you ever feel the Society is going too much against your code and you want out, you're free to retire. We don't keep folk against their will."
He leans back and lets him take the compass, and gives a small, possibly knowing smile at the paladin's request. "Heh. I'll do that, lad. You still need to choose your faction. No rush, mind you, but I think you'd fit in well with the Silver Crusade. Don't choose just yet, though. Give it time, feel the different factions out."
Rhugarr's usually scowling face brakes into a grin under his bushy beard, and he claps Cyrus on the arm. "Glad tae see it lad. 'e didn't give ya too hard a time, did he?"
He scratches his beard. "I'm headin' back tae the forge fer now. But er... I wouldnae mind some company on the walk." He blushes beet red at the request, but also seems pleased to have someone to ask.
Cyrus looks at Lili, who nods excitedly, and smiles at the dwarf. "We would be honored to walk with you, Rhugarr. And the Venture Captain didn't say anything I didn't need to hear." He opens his mouth to say more but then just gives a small nod and begins walking.
Lili feels like she is about to explode. A dwarf -- A DWARF!! -- is her friend! He wants her and Cyrus to walk with him. Maybe he isn't so grumpy after all.
She begins the walk next to Cyrus, as usual, but somehow ends up next to Rhugarr after a few minutes. She doesn't remember deciding to walk with him, but she reaches up to take his arm all the same.
Rhugarr looks a little surprised, but awkwardly offers the crook of his arm for her to take. The gesture, while platonic, seems to hold a deeper meaning for the dwarf than mere politeness, and Lili could swear she sees a tear start to form in his eye before he blinks it away. "Late now. The brothers an' sisters o' the forge'll be makin' supper. Yer both invited tae stay o' course. Sister Magrath makes a mean venison stew..."