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"No one here wants to loot you. We came to learn. Show us what you can. Let us, together, deduce and record what happened here. So others might have that as a cautionary. Oh! I was asked to watch for a scales! In Andoran, where I am from, such are a symbol of Justice. If the scales we found are not precious to you, carrying them back with your story would... add a sort of weight, to both.", Gristav says, smiling.
"Come in, and see, and be certain. There have been... some harsh things said, by me. I resented your blindness, but now... this was no clever man. This beast strove with the powers of the Abyss. Let all your people see this, and cease their arrow-stitched bowing toward Vantian." Gristav searches the room, mage hand opening any containers from some paces away.
"Two of them? Let me make an adjustment...", Gristav says, momentarily conjuring. The splotch of grease over the arrowheaded Koradan Curve corruscates, and crawls, and conquers, spreading over the wall, then the ceiling, the other walls, until all the surfaces not given to man, were denied to demon. "That's much... butter", Gristav jokes.
Gristav intones, ancient sibilant sounds,
Then he slings his staff, and readies his bow, and again drives power into it, for the battle commenced.
"Where is Gastidem?", Gristav asks rhetorically. "Sent to chant a hundred Koradas, a hundred Fair Vantians? Stand yourself in the North-East corner, please; we'll begin our search where you began your defense, with the bed. Let the presence of your bodyguards reassure and restrain you, it has been said: who draws first, dies. We aren't sure what we seek here, but it starts with Truth." Gristav casts Mage Hand and opens the wardrobe using the spell's effect.
"Our question, exactly. At least, we agree on that being in question.", Gristav says coolly. "What is going on here? Do we require the ruse of accusation and denial, Dakang? Are you even Dakang? We are here under the authority of a landholding lord, and with the assent of your community, to put to you certain questions, and to search your rooms and person. We offer one option to expedite our finding of your guilt or ignorance in the corruption of this temple: -", Gristav lets the moment hang an instant, then offers, "You may go to the font in the temple, and wash in its waters."
"If he refuses, we have resources we've yet to use. We could return, and destroy the tapestry. Better that souls end in confusion, than that they kneel in circle of the nest of an ant-lion. Surely, we have no right to judge, but we have a duty to act. Or to witness, the natives saving themselves." "If he becomes hostile? Curious phrasing, given the demon we've just fought. If he reveals himself the deceiver we think, or hazards us or these others, we must end his threat. Decisively. Of course our hosts are uncomfortable with this. How far do we go, for their comfort? Do we allow a week's holy sequestration? An hour's grace? If the hallowed father calls his children to him, do we allow that?" "I say no. No more, nothing more. We Pathfinders are five, six with the cat. The angels are three, Zhuang and Mariya are five, six with Gastidem. There is his jury. We go now, and search and question, and if he evades, avoids, conjures, or confronts... it will not matter. I will risk my life on the table beside the legacy of these angels' people, beside Zhuang's wisdom, and Mariya's simple, Truthful, blush. I say we go now, all of us. And whoever draws first, dies." {...when Justice is gone, there's always Force.}
"Let us, all of us, offer him baptism in your font.", Gristav says darkly. "As it still produces the same holies it ever did, it is perhaps the one witness we all might agree on. The only one, we all, might trust." He looks about the room. "I've been wracking my wits, and I don't think, that there's anything else, that will satisfy everyone." {...when Love is gone, there's always Justice.}, Gristav remembers.
"Honored scions of celestial excellence, please turn what gifts of observation you may have, upon me now. I am just a man, unschooled in diplomatic arts, with a message that is unwelcome. But true. A trap in the statuary, and undead in the crypt, and a demon's attack, after all. I don't ask that you reach the same answer I have. I ask that you ask the same question. Any question, really. Please. Souls... lie in the balance. The balance, yes, this was hidden, in the crypt, as well. Is it important? Is anything, to you, now? Or are you all so drunk on milk and honey you cannot question. Please. Question. How weak is the house, that fears the wash of rain? And how strong, is the one you live in? Dare you question?" Gristav looks from the found scales to the lead Aasimar, then to the others. He looks very tired.
"You know... And I hope this isn't my hag-rid upbringing... But if this plane is that cloth, and that cloth is ours, then we've every right and every duty, to act. And beside that, in any circumstance, when a demon's sent against a man, he's a right to ask, 'Who?!', says I. Still, we must go carefully, however far we go. It would pain me to end a demon, and have them continue to worship in the forms he taught, then board the wrong ferry in their afterlife. These are unusually large stakes. I should calm down. But damn it, Zhuang is a teacher, he's a duty keep his eyes open. Oh, and I've words for those angels, as well..."
"Evidence. He wants evidence...", Gristav fumes. "I can offer ten points of argument; you cannot refute them all. One Two Three Four Five.", Gristav rattles as he opens his fingers one by one. "My other points are similar. Perhaps you might compare your reasonings with Miriya's, she's already gone to the crypt, to see with unpainted eyes. I suppose we should be thankful; Gastidem had a turtle, and not a telescope."
"All the same things we said were wrong from before. But you'll have to forgive our incensed ire; we've dodged the trap designed to trap us at the door with the undeads closing in, we've broken the armed and armored undeads, found the hidden symbol of justice-", Gristav rants, rattling the recovered scales, "And survived the demon sent to slay us. Where once we'd suspicion, we've now surety. But at least the brave halfling now goes to actually look with unpainted eyes...!" Gristav stops himself, and sighs. "I'm sorry. I was raised... to be proud of my temper. Let me speak calmly and plainly. Your shepherd is a wolf, and we aim to count his teeth. Go, fill your eyes. Then, fill your hand, and choose a side."
"Dear Miriya, we were just attacked by a summoned demon, a loathsome Dretch, I am told, from the depths of the Abyss. And on the heels of glow-eyed undeads! This is no longer a suspicion, we speak now with certainty. There is a snake in your midst, a venom in your milk and honey. Go to the crypt, and see the tombs untouched, but weaponed bones arrayed for battle. The trap upon the door will no longer strike you down, we have seen to that. We will go to Zhuang, and to the Angels, and confront them with these facts, with this", Gristav says, rattling the once-hidden scales.
"Whichever happens first.", Gristav says with a note of decision. "Let us find out." He walks toward the library, down the hall, holding up the scales, and calling back to those in the tombs, "Pathfinders, justice is on our hands!"
"I was about to storm down that hallway...", Gristav reflects. "I would have come running back, I'm sure..." he says, smiling. Then he grins. "Say... what if I had? What if it did chase me back among them? I could produce such an image. But it wouldn't prove anything, it would just suggest the first was a trick, too."
"We've these other bones, though that could be turned against us. I know I could turn it against us. I was taught as a child, facts are clay; history is art. We might yet show someone here the brush strokes. Zhuang and the angels, are where I'd start. And Dakang is where it will end, I'll wager. Gastidem did not command such a... dretch, you said?"
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