Olivia Duneheim's page

"We are back and in no less than 10 seconds from the time of our reunion, we need your assistance. My cousin and I must go to the Arcanium with all due haste. I see that you are well. I hope you have better news to share than we do for our part, but ours must wait until we have reached the wizards sanctum."

Olivia smiles warmly, and her relief is apparent when she spots the group before her and those with Sarcedos. The typical glow that Zandra had detected in the paladin's aura upon their first few days of contact is all the brighter.

ઋઋઋIf you recall, Zandra detected this aura on her during the encounter in the brothel with the homunculus. Then later the time in the Temple when Zandra took note of the way Olivia's hair had a metallic sheen. Draw you own conclusions. ઋઋઋ

"I'm at your service, of course." She turns to one of the young soldiers next to her. "Willum, you and Mard see to the report of our patrol. I'll be departing for the Wise Quarter. Please pass word to Lord Liberios." The trainees salute and move towards the stables, their camels in tow.

"We've had to step up patrols in a few areas around the temple complex," Olivia begins as she climbs back into the saddle. "The Chamber of Ecclestials, which is headed by Nomarch Sindoi was none too pleased by our venture into Copprrwood to capture the Rook. They've conveniently reallocated half the Gray Cloaks normal to our section to other areas." She gathers rein and gestures for Zandra to go ahead and saddle up Thor. "They sited that 'if the Temple is able to conduct police actions so far afield, then they can manage more of their affairs closer to home.'"

Olivia simply shrugs. "More training for the squires and clerics."

Speaking of which, a squire arrives with a camel mount for the wizard. "As requested, milord. Her name is Penelope, and she favors the use of...."

"I don't recall ever caring for the names of these flea bags, boy. Just have my belongings fastened tightly and covered well." Fir'umil cuts him off, waving the young squire to be about his business. "The faster we get to the Arcanamirium the faster I can have this thing sold for gl..."

"Fir'umil..." Olivia warns.

He just waves her off and gestures at the squire. "On with it, boy. Close your mouth or one of Penelope's flies will get in."

In a matter of moments, the trio - griping wizard - and all - are on the city streets and making their way North. Along the way they pass the Starstone Cathedral and the myriad of pilgrims who've traveled from all points to toss their prayers into the Holy Chasm.

ઋઋઋ

Can I get a Perception Check from Zandra along with your response?

"He's going on ahead." Olivia offered, sighing with a calm frustration. "We have some time to gather what supplies you may need, but not much. According to Captain Stoneanchor, Windsinger Onura will be departing in the next 2 hours."

Olivia followed close behind the Inquisitor, not certain how she felt in regards to his ill-tempered response. She wasn't sure if he simply didn't want to understand the difficulties of dealing with a ship the merfolk had declared off limits...or if he just didn't care. The man was dedicated...resourceful...a lot of things. But his directness was somewhat irritating.

Fir'umil waved to them to join their discussion, Olivia waved back and looked to the inquisitor. "Sacerdos, we will depart as soon as is safely deemed. You know you have my sword and the support of this temple. We will reclaim your clerics and bring them to the Arcanamirium as you've requested."

"It is not a request, Chaplain-protector," he responded simply and turned to descend the stairs, grey and red cloak swirling in his wake.

Olivia sighed and followed. She caught up with the man's steps as he reached the elves.

Olivia stood slowly from the comfortable chair. "Perhaps you're right, Karthan. Perhaps it is the fresh viewpoint of a person two days to Absalom that I needed most to see what was plain before me."

"Olivia..." Caleb warned.

"...oh no, Lord Caleb. I'd never thought of it in this light before. All the years Iomedae has been a presence in this city. We've proselytized to those who wouldn't or would listen, begged them to come to the light, made the choice to not consort with those who willfully turned from the light as a matter of their own choice..." Olivia raised a hand to her brow, eyes wide with surprise. Caleb moved to say something but she raised a hand to forestall him. "The evil in that tavern where Kreig and his minions went about the business of killing those as evil as themselves, the whore house across the way where women Father Aegius and others have personally begged to leave their life choices behind but continued to ply their trade, the evil in all the little dark holes the church knows about, we've chosen to let them go about their own self destruction when we could have burned them out…purged them away.”

Caleb rested a hand on her shoulder. ”Olivia, please don’t…”

Again she ignored the old bard, pulling herself out from under his touch. Olivia gathered her things. ”If I’d have only gone to the Rook first, retrieved the book about cosmology…” she paused, finger to her lips in feigned shock. Then she pointed to the table top. On it were books and scrolls along with the food. ”…if I’d gone there I wouldn’t have had to wait several hours to get the same information here from Caleb's collection. Nor would I have had to wait more time for you to deliver the kukri you’d taken from the dead dancing girl. I could have gone in to have food and drink with the Rook.”

She grasped her holy symbol and whispered a prayer. The last she spoke in a gentle calmness and seriousness. ”Thank you for your insight this evening, Karthan Dawnsetter. I’ll see to it that the errors you’ve mentioned are rectified immediately.”

With that, Chaplain-Protector Olivia Duneheim turned and left, softy closing the door behind her.

“Lau’s death may have been avoided if you’d chosen to not stoke your own ego at Kreig’s expense!!” Olivia thundered over Caleb’s attempt to respond. She sat forward in her chair and stabbed a finger towards Karthan, tears in her eyes. “Oh, yes, ranger. Sacerdos told us of your return visit, how you couldn’t help yourself...”

”Olivia Duneheim! This is not the time or place to level…”

She slammed a fist on the arm of her chair, cutting off Caleb’s words. ”No, by the Fiery Sword! I’ve been spat upon for my faith, called stupid by those who think themselves above the worship of the gods, slandered because I’m a female playing at knighthood, but never have I sought to think myself better than those same enemies. If I am better, it is by faith in Iomedae that I’m made so, not by my bravado, and not by marking my territory like a runt seeking the approval of my alpha!!”

The Scroll stood and went to Olivia’s side. “No, there is no justice to be found here, young paladin. Only rest and strength. Please, do not go down this path…”

Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, Caleb’s words suffusing her body and soul. Her arms draped along her thighs as she hung her head in anguish and exhaustion, not wanting to say anymore, knowing that the emotion of the moment was only scrambling her thoughts. ”I’m sorry, Karthan.” She touched the symbol of her faith and looked upwards to meet the elf’s eyes. ”By my hope of wielding the Sword of the goddess, I apologize.”

"Too many secrets..." She shook her head and grabbed the reins of her axebeak. "No, we should be together now. If for anything, alone we tend to do foolish things."

At the sounds of the evil befallen Lau's body, Olivia was glad to have heard the news within the confines of the temple grounds. "If I know Mal, he'll have returned home to the Scroll's house. As for the Inquisitor, he has sought his rest for the evening. Perhaps it best we do the same."

She whistled for her mount, the axebeak responding promptly. "Shall we?" A large part of her wanted the simple comforts of Caleb's fire place, another part just wanted to he sure Mal'undil was okay.

Olivia was dumbfounded. She held up a hand, tears welling up in her eyes. "By the sword of Iomedae, do you speak truly? Lau Fu Shan is dead?"

Sacerdos nodded solemnly.

Olivia turned away from the other two and stepped away. Her tears were flowing of there own accord. "Mal'undil...is he able-bodied?" Please, blessed goddess, tye loss of one friend is enough!

"Yes, Chaplain-Protector, he is well enough to see to the monk's remains."

A small relief. Olivia sank to her knees and allowed herself to mourn Lau's passing.

Olivia held her council. An Inquisitor was a different class of dedication than what she was used to in the field. They were usually trusted with far more autonomy than paladins...and that was in the ranks of Iomedae's servants. She'd heard stories of the ferocity of those dedicated to Lord Ragathiel. Most she admired, some of those stories Olivia feared.

Olivia shook her head. “No, he would not hold a rank. Ragathiel is an Empyreal Lord. One who serves at the pleasure of Kingdom of Heaven. His was a sordid history, from which he spent centuries fighting his way out from under. Ragathiel is wrathful and delights in battle. The Empyreal Lord is a beacon of hope to the wronged and down-trodden, for he symbolizes that anyone can stand against the forces of Hell and bring glory to Heaven.”

“Add to it he is an Inquisitor. Amongst the followers of Iomedae, they are hard sort. As servants of Ragathiel…” Olivia had been stroking the horse’s neck, but she paused and looked under it so she could meet Zandra’s eyes. The Chaplain-Protector was concerned all over again about allowing Karthan to visit so long with the crime lord without raising a voice of dissent to the plan. “I do not think Karthan would enlist more than information from the Rook. But I have only known him two days. I pray your brother has not gone further for he does not want the Inquisition of Ragathiel over his shoulder.”

The look in Zandra’s eyes, a mixture of fear but more offense within their deep pools was all the answer Olivia needed. “Of course not, Olivia offered. Of course Karthan wouldn’t invite their attentions in this way.”

“Calomet,” she called the squire back over. “Finish your work here with Grihmla. Mistress Zandra and I will go and meet this newcomer.”

“Let’s go, my friend,” she paused when she saw Thor and amended her words. “Let’s go, my friends and see what this Sacerdos is all about.”

The two women and the tiger moved out into the courtyard. Sacerdos noted their approach and began gripping the forearms of the men around him, a sign that the conversation was over. Oddly enough, there was familiarity in the man’s eyes at the sight of Olivia and Zandra; he’d seen them before.

“Greetings, Inquisitor,” Olivia offered, fist to heart.

“Greetings,” He paused a brief moment as he saw the badge of her office on the chain around her neck. “Chaplain-Protector, I am Sacerdos e’Niihl of Magnimar, servant of His Empyreal Lord Ragathiel may His righteous blade cleave the unholy.” He bowed respectfully in return, hand to his breast where his fingers splayed out in the pattern of a wing. Olivia noted that his clothing was varying degrees of grays and silvers with slashes of red throughout. The hilt of his bastard sword was prominent, the pummel and hilt looking as though they’d seen a lot of wear.

“I am Chaplain-Protector Olivia Duneheim,” She waved towards her companions. “This is Zandra and her companion Thorendel. I understand you are here awaiting someone?”

At closer inspection, she saw that he was a half-elf, though his ears and facial features leaned more heavily upon his human ancestry. Also, as he looked from the paladin and then to the elf, there was a degree of regret and empathy in his eyes.

Olivia smiled at the elf's candor. "I understand what you say regarding men's attitudes, but I am a part of their world because of Iomedae's chosen path for me."

On her left hand, she thumbed a ring bearing the seal of her father's house; an eagle clutching a sword and a scroll set against a flame. "As for my current path, well that was not my choice at first. It took prayers to the goddess and words from my father to convince me that me place was not in the Holy Crusades in the north. My entire purpose, at least I'd thought, was to train here in the temple and earn my right to fight in the north, to take the fight to the Worldwound bearing the righteous symbol of Iomedae on my right forearm, and the great eagle of my father's house on my left."

"But the paths we would like are not always the ones that find us." Olivia glanced towards the southern entrance to the grounds. There was a figure astride a horse, clad in armor and the obvious lance and furled banner fixed to his saddle. Something behind Olivia's eyes caused her to take pause and focus on his features. His bearing was that of singular focus, but there was conflict settled upon his shoulders.

"Olivia?" Zandra drew back the paladin's attention. There was a knowing grin on the elf maiden's face.

"Sorry, my friend." She felt embrassed and drew a hand towards the stables where her mount was waiting. "As I was saying, I anticipated to fight alongside my father in the north. But then Lord Liberios approached me to join the Chaplain-Protector's in the city."

They continued walking, but she spared a quick glance back as the newcomer dismounted his horse, handing the reigns to one of the squires after he unbuckled his saddlebags.

"Many letters upon the black wings of ravens passed back and forth between my father and me. I continued to ask for the opportunity to join him in the north, but father insisted I stay. I soon saw the honor in it and chose to accept the appointment. It wasn't long after that I discovered Lord Liberios had sought permission directly from my father to bring me into these ranks. The more I learned about what they were doing...more importantly, the more I cast my faith upon my goddess, the clearer it became that I'd made the right choice."

They arrived at the stall where Olivia's axebeak was held. The creature flexed its feathers, snapping its beak at the presence of the tiger. Olivia cooed and clucked, commanding the animal to remain calm. "Fierce in a fight, but I'd enjoy a post where having a horse was more accessible. No offense, Mala."

A squire entered the stable area, leading the newcomer's horse. "Ahem, pardon the intrusion, Chaplain-Protector, but there's an inquisitor outdoors what says he's waitin' for that elf ranger who was here earlier."

For Zandra...

Beleg saw to the sustainance of Zandra and her companion, happy to provide a story of Zandra's mother and father so the young druid would have an ever growing picture of who they'd been. They spoke for a good hour when the door to the council chamber opened, admitting Aegius' porter and Chaplain-Protector Duneheim.

"My apologies, my lord, but I was preparing to depart for the Merchant's Quarter. I intend to stay the night at Lord Caleb's establishment, perhaps get in some research before sleeping." Olivia had changed out of her scale mail and donned soft leathers and a white tunic emblazened with the starburst and longsword sigil of her goddess and station. Her sword was at her hip, the only weapon on her person at the moment. "I thought I'd see if Zandra was ready to depart."

Olivia had a pair of scroll cases over her shoulder, what looked like research materials she'd be bringing with her.

"Come, Chaplain-Protector," Beleg motioned to a chair near where they were already seated. "Share in a meal before you depart."

She nodded appreciation. "Many thanks, my lord. Gladly." She placed the scroll cases on the table and grabbed an open plate to begin filling it with some of the roast pheasant and spiced vegetables. Olivia put aside the conversation she'd just had with Liberios and smiled towards Zandra with a touch of sympathy. "I saw Karthan leave with Mal'undil. If it helps, my reaction was very much the same when I was in his shoes."

At the presence of the young paladin, Zandra feels comfort and a sense of wellness in her being. Likewise, even Thor's instincts towards Olivia are that of a welcoming spot in the meadow where he can find a nice afternoon of basking in the sun.

The paladin glanced down to the table in front of her. A small part of her wished the elf maiden hadn’t raised the subject. But the flame of regret was snuffed easily when Olivia considered the passion behind Zandra’s words. Had she been so enthusiastic when the group had approached her with the same proposal? Most assuredly, the answer was no. Olivia had been keen to join her father in the north, charging with the Twelve into the heart of the Worldwound By the Burning Sword she wanted to be with him still. For every knight in the Crusades, there seemed to be 5 sellswords fouling the ranks.

No, she had not been so enthusiastic. But in the past years Olivia had grown to love her assignment. Iomedae had truly shined down upon her head.

Father Aegius looked to her when Zandra asked her question. “Is this true, Olivia?”

“Yes, sir.” She smiled nervously, her eyebrows raised as she shook her head. “I don’t know for sure what I saw, Father. We stood above the main avenue in Copperwood, the second floor window of Lamech’s room across from the Toiling Gent.” She purposely placed her hands on the table, palms down and flat, organizing her thoughts.

“I was searching for a sign of this Lamech,” she nodded to Karthan appreciatively. “Just as he indicated, we were challenged by a creature, defeated it and cleared the room. I went to the window, thinking perhaps Lamech had leapt from the window and onto the street below. There was a small overhang…a person could have made the jump…so I searched the crowds.” Olivia closed her amber eyes, memory flashes of those faces, staring up at her. “There were people in the crowd, men, women, children, staring up at me as though they knew me. They stared and stared, waiting for something, not moving.”

She opened her eyes and found Aegius studying her, eyes softened with pity but no surprise. Was this really what she had to look forward to her as the years carried forward? Olivia’s hands clinched into fists on the table, she must learn more about herself, about what the future held. The not knowing, keeping her head buried in duty, it was getting old. If she was to be of any good to this endeavor, she had to understand.

“Then there was the room itself, the symbol on the floor, the stench about the place.” Olivia’s hands pressed together, dry-washing back and forth. “That inn was already a wretched hive of scum and villainy, but there was a sense of organization about it, as though it were controlled like sewage in the pipes under the city being guided to the coast. When we entered that room, however, it felt out of place, it was wrong somehow.”

Next to her, she could sense Liberios’ shoulders slump ever so slightly, but his gruff tone was meant to encourage. “This is why Iomedae called you to this city, Olivia Duneheim. You will do your duty.”

“I know my Lord. I serve at the goddess’ pleasure.” A statement of fact, there were hard days in this service, days like this one, but it was her honest pleasure and fulfillment to be a Chaplain-Protector. A deep breath and she bowed respectfully to Liberios, thanking him for the attitude adjustment.

Her knife had spun in her grip, muscle memory taking over as she spun around at the sound of Fir’umil’s voice. With all that had happened, then recounting the depth of horror Zandra had witnessed…then Aegius calling her to Mal’s side.

A weak hand rested upon her shoulder restraining her instincts. “The dagger, child. Fir’umil is correct. I will need fire.”

Blinking the fog away, she saw Fir just behind her, his body bisected by the knife held in her hand across her vision. His eyes were dark, looking about the room in weary sweeps then setting upon her and the knife. “Shall you kill me so soon after my long journey?” He whispered.

Another nudge from Father Aegius. “Child, hold out your blade before me.”

She complied, not sure what to make of Fir rising of his own accord. She’d seen him just before his collapse, the fear in his eyes when he looked from the dagger in Mal’s chest to the mad cleric Lamech during the battle… What had he seen? Was it similar to Zandra’s nightmare experience?

Things had escalated in the past few months. The things Fir’umil and Olivia had encountered…it was getting worse, more frequent.

Beneath her hand, the dagger hilt warmed, bringing her back to the moment. “I will need you to excise the flesh where I indicate. You must not hesitate, my dear. Not for an instant.”

“Yes, Father Aegius.” She firmed her resolve, knowing that she’d be cutting friend.

The old man prayed over the wound, hands forming a shape above the opening until the smoking began to stop. The spidery lines of blue began to grow fainter as Aegius closed his eyes and spoke. “Now, Olivia, bring the dagger point down on the right side of the wound. Search for anything that glows as the blade approaches.”

She did as she was told, eyes studying the wound as her blade tip hovered ever more closely. There, a glint of something…she moved the dagger closer and the glint became a bluish ember. “Iomedae guide my hand,” she said. Olivia brought the edge down and cut along the side where the splinter was glowing, a quick circle and a turn of the wrist and the tiny fragment was free…

Aegius, with surprising strength, swept a fist against Olivia’s hand, sending the dagger across the room and skittering along the stones. The glass splinter became brilliant like a blue and purple spec of light, then puffed into smoke and was gone.

On the dais, Mal’undil sat bolt upright, dragging in huge gulps of air, eyes wide open and scanning the room. Olivia tried to calm him, seeing the half-elf’s muscles tense. “Where is he?” Mal asked, trying to get to his feet.

“You’re with friends, Mal.” She tried to reassure him.

He tried to stand, but only succeeded in stumbling from the dais and sitting hard on the steps. Then he clawed at his chest, looking for the dagger that wasn’t there. “Where in the seven hells is Lamech?” he gasped.

Okay, I'll pause there for Karthan and/or Zandra to put in their two cents and/or observations.

Reposting some from earlier then continuing the story. I’ll make a couple of updates to the text for clarification or trimming.

At the main doorway to the Temple that opened to the stables, Olivia was met by Aegius, the Priest of the Evening Watch. He was old, perhaps in his 70s, much the same as the other priests in the church. The Seventh Church of Iomedae served as a place for induction and initial education for those of the faith. Then, once of age, most either graduated to the Tempering Hall to train as paladins and templars or moved on to outposts throughout the world. So the church held the very young of the orders and the elders who measured out wisdom and instruction.

“Chaplain-Protector,” the venerable priest bowed slowly in greeting, his voice warm and kindly and full of comfort. Skin taught over high cheekbones and a frame thinner than looked healthy, Aegius had seen his share of the world before settling in Absalom to be a teacher. Normally picked to handle the weekly sermons, his easeful tone brought with it a sense of peace. Some of her fondest memories in Absalom involved Father Aegius.

The old man held his smile as he descended the marble stairs from the south entrance, brown eyes surveying the situation. Above him, worked into the stone of the doorway were the words ”Do not fear, for I am with you, do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

“Father Aegius,” Olivia returned his bow. “I regret that I cannot offer a more cordial greeting, but we are in dire need.”

The old man, white wisps of hair crowning his head, furrowed his brow with concern. He made his way down the stairs from the temple, his frame thin and short. “I’m at your service, child.”

“Our friends Mal’undil and Fir’umil have fallen prey to the influence of Chaos, Father. As has a new friend, Zandra of the Kyonin Realm.” She provided an arm to the old priest and walked him towards the cart where they lay, then gestured towards the silent form of Zandra Dawnsetter as she sat astride Thorendel.

Next she nodded towards Karthan who’d just arrived “This is Karthan, Zandra’s brother.”

”Greetings under the stars that shine upon this city, most ancient of folk.” the priest greeted in formal elven.

Heavy robes of his office whispered along the paved area leading towards the stables. More light began blooming around them as squires and servants set about lighting lanterns fixed to the columns surrounding the area. The lanterns pulsed to life, bathing the area in a soft glow to drive back the descending night.

“Let me see what we’re dealing with, my dear.” He raised a left hand that hovered in the air above Mal and Fir, then gingerly in front of Zandra and her faraway gaze. The elf hadn’t spoken since leaving the house in Copperwood, but at least she was conscious.

Olivia waited and prayed as Father Aegius made his assessments. It wasn’t long before other priests, all equally as old or older arrived, accompanied by acolytes bearing litters for those who couldn’t walk. Eventually, they were all waiting upon Aegius as he closed his prayers and viewing. Olivia was thankful to be at his side for the elder stumbled briefly, causing her to step forward to brace him.

“Bring them to my chapel.” He whispered, his breath short and eyes half-lidded in exhaustion. When the clerics in attendance balked at the encroachment of the tiger, Aegius waved them off, having regained some of his strength as they’d mulled about. “Nonsense, it is the connection to that beautiful creature that keeps our elf mistress upright and walking!”

Lau, silent up until then, stepped forward to speak to Olivia. “I will depart and head to my home and seek council. I will return in the morning to see to their condition.” The monk bowed respectfully to the group and turned to go.

As the rest began filing into the temple, Karthan moved close to Olivia and inquired as to where they were going.

The paladin glanced in his direction, leaning in close. “We go to see Liberios, the head of my Order. Between him and Aegius we will get answers regarding the fate of your sister and our friends.” She whispered for his ear alone. A pause, weighing her next words. “I trust your visit with the Rook was profitable.”

She held up a gauntleted hand to forestall a response. “Later. We can discuss the information later.”

They continued into the temple, weaving through the wide corridors and passing through one of the main sanctuaries on their way to an ascending staircase. Many eyes followed them, concern, greeting, surprise at the appearance of Thorendel, even suspicion at the appearance of elves But they all saw the look on Aegius’ face, most whispered prayers to Iomedae for whatever challenge lay before the aged cleric.

There was immensity to the Temple, from the large flag stones paving the floors to the walls and casements and ceiling heights. Even in the midst of a spiraling staircase, two mounted knights could ride in parallel. They passed four levels, mostly classrooms and dormitories with the fifth level the rooms for priests and instructors and guests. Beyond that were meeting halls and a private chapel belonging to Genedair the Faithful, head of the order in Absalom.

But the group stopped at the fifth level, bringing Mal and Fir upon their litters to a large alter at the center of a private chapel. Perhaps only as many as ten or fifteen worshipers could fit comfortably there, a converted classroom that had been a gift from Genedair to Aegius. Once the wounded and Zandra were settled into place, the attendants departed save for Aegius’ personal assistant.

“Go ahead, Perciville, I shall be in good care with the Chaplain-Protector to attend my needs.” Aegius waived the blond-haired boy, dressed in white and orange livery out of the small chapel, a gesture indicating he could shut the two heavy wooden doors behind him.

In the chapel, there were three rows of pews divided down the middle by the aisle leading from the double doors to the altar. It was here that Mal and Fir rested upon a raised dais, comfortable blankets and pillows appropriated along the way up the stairs supplied for their easeful repose. Zandra, at the guidance of Karthan sat upon the first few steps leading up to the dais with Thorendel curling at her feet. Torches in sconces supplied a gentle light to the room that would normally be supplied by the large windows on the western side of the chapel. Stained glass holding mosaics of various images of Iomedae in battle and prayer would normally bathe the chapel in golds and reds and yellows.

“Do it, Karthan. I will have a contingent from the temple dispatched to sanctify the site.” She held his eyes for a moment then pointed to the crate holding the creature Lau had said exploded. “Burn that infestation too.” This was a grim scene. The battle already won, Olivia had not considered the spiritual one still taking place. She set her jaw and chastised herself for not being the first one to inspect the site.

Lau was approaching, his back normally straight and his confidence unshakeable was noticeably weighed down by whatever he’d witnessed in that light-cursed house. He smiled wanly and bowed a head in greeting. “I’ll be fine,” he said, then proceeded to see to Fir’umil who was beginning to stir in his induced unconsciousness.

Zandra was also impacted, eyes searching through some unseen distance, darting back and forth for a way out. Thorendel stood close by, watching her with curiosity but also guarding her. The big cat bared his fangs as the paladin approached their position.

“Easy, my friend.” She stepped firmly, not showing weakness so as to not initiate his prey drive. “I wish to see to your mistress.”

He was reluctant, a growled warning low with the promise of swift death. But he allowed Olivia to move closer and kneel by the young druid’s side. Zandra was muttering something in her native language, so softly it seemed because she couldn’t grasp hold of a breath deep enough to speak louder. It was the kind of thing borne of terrors. Olivia remembered nights in her childhood well enough when she awoke from horrible dreams, unable to breathe, a gasped scream coming out no bigger than a mouse could muster.

The paladin reached for the symbol dangling at her neck, her badge of office, her other hand resting upon the shoulder of the druid. “Whoever does the will of my goddess in heaven is my brother and sister, standing at my side against the rising sea of evil around us. Grant this elf maiden stillness, my goddess, for Zandra has stood for you on this day!”

She felt Zandra warm beneath her hand and cease her whispers. Olivia opened her own eyes to see that the elf’s were closed, her breaths coming in regular intervals as a peaceful sleep overtook the horrors she’d been seeing.

“You have fought valiantly in the name of your mistress, Thorendel. Now another task of you, guard her sleep, my friend. We will be leaving soon.” There was no doubt the mighty tiger understood her words. Olivia had seen such intelligence in other creatures bonded to druids and rangers alike. She secretly yearned for a bond of similar type when the time came for her to choose a mount. She would have preferred a horse, a strong Mendevian horse to carry her into the Crusades. But that might not be possible in Absalom.

“Chaplain-Protector.” Lau’s tone was laced with subtle warning.

She thanked the tiger with a bow and stood smoothly, hand instinctively going to the hilt of her sword.

“Visitors.”

She turned towards the south where the hard-packed road lead towards Mill Street. There were several people approaching, locals by their appearance and garb, coming from the occupied houses they’d passed earlier.

“Ready yourself, Lau.” She turned a head over her shoulder. “Karthan, prepare yourself.”

The ranger stopped his activities. He was accumulating proof of identity from the three remaining corpses that were Agidor’s bardic troupe. In silk-like fashion, Karthan’s bows was in his hands.

“No.” Olivia shook her head firmly, the word allowing for no debate. “We have eliminated this threat. I will not suffer casualties amongst the commoners.”

There wasn’t a lot of time for debate Olivia prayed the elf would listen. With his sister wounded though, it was hard to say. She started towards the massing locals, perhaps 8 in all, a few more still remaining safely at a distance. As she passed Mal’undil’s inert form, she scooped up the cudgel at his belt and affixed it to her own. If things did go south, she would work towards subduing the group first. Lau remained behind, standing with Mal and Fir’umiil’s helpless forms.

“Hail,” Olivia announced, right hand going up in a peaceful greeting.

The bravest of the lot, stepped up to meet the paladin, shrugging off the whispered warnings of the others in his group to stay back. “I’m Aiden…” he managed, then attempted a bow of sorts as he looked upon the badge office and the armor Olivia wore.

Olivia bowed in return. “Aiden, I am pleased to make your acquaintance this day.”

Aiden looked fearfully around the paladin, then back. “They gone?”

“Yes. Vanquished.”

He nodded, a glimmer of hope in his eye. “He tried gettin’ us ta join up, he did.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Even kilt our dogs when we a say no.”

“He and his fellows are dead. They will trouble you no further.”

Aiden bobbed and thanked the paladin, waving the others forward and demanding they pay their respects to the Olivia and the others. They offered water and food if it was needed, even a cart if they wanted to harness Mal’s camel Gertrude. Olivia accepted the offer of the cart, considering the condition of three of their members, it was a blessing. She thanked them for their willingness and affirmed with them that clerics from her Order would be back before the night was through to sanctify the site.

After the crowd dispersed, she breathed a sigh of small satisfaction. Any chance to bring Iomedae glory was a bountiful day. But the greater glory would go to her as she and her servants saw to the restoration of her friends.

Karthan saw to removing identifying elements from the bardic troupe, better to show the Rook if questions were asked. Olivia cared little for what the Dhampir would have wanted, but Karthan had something in mind. The elf was made of stern stuff and wouldn’t fall prey to the Rook’s charms.

They gathered their supplies, careful to separate the gear acquired from their fallen foes. The singe-axle cart served to be perfect to place Mal’undil and Fir for the time being. But Zandra appeared to be awake enough, if remaining silent within her thoughts, to ride upon Thorendel’s back.

Karthan was the last to mount up. As the rest looked on, he set fire to the small house, the blaze and smoke reaching up into the early nighttime sky. The elf walked away from the towering flames, face cast in shadow as he weighed a measured the night’s events. Several of the locals came to watch it burn, some crying in relief, others bringing makeshift gifts and other gratitude before the group. It seemed that with the rising smoke, a stifling grip was removed from their throats.

Olivia was deeply grateful to be part of bringing her goddess glory. But as she looked down from her axe beak at the cart next to her, she hoped the price was not too high.
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The group is going to pass by the Rook’s establishment long enough to return the axe beak up on which Olivia is riding. I’ll leave an open window for us to have a posting exchange for Karthan to converse with Sebastian if he so chooses regarding the finding of Agidor and the others in the servitude of Lamech.

Karthan was able to gather bits of clothing with blood, Agidor’s instrument and his scroll case. Inside the case are sheaves of music, some of which you recognize as songs he’d sung in the tavern, even the song you heard on your approach.

Lastly, accumulated from the bodies, Karthan was able to find the following:
46gp
100sp
A blood red ruby worth 30gp
4 masterwork flight daggers
Lamech’s Platinum Medallion [/b][/ooc]
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Olivia sat upon the cart alongside Lau Fu Shan. The time to get through the gate had taken longer than she’d anticipated, but then again, even with her station it was difficult to convince the guards at the gate that the people in the back of the cart and Zandra were not carrying disease into Absalom proper. Praise Iomedae that a cleric of Sarenrae on duty recognized Olivia and more importantly the validity of her word.

They continued into the Ascendant Court, passing the myriad of temples before they arrived before the Seventh Church, sight of Iomedae’s seventh miracle where she called down the blue fires to light the ghoul-besieged Absalom. Across the street from the Temple stood the Tempering House, the place of her formal education in warfare.

Once in the courtyard of the Temple, a young page stepped forward to receive them, bowing his respects to Olivia and gawking at the appearance of the elves and their tiger. “See to it Aegius is notified I’ve arrived. We will meet him in the customary chambers.”

“Yes, mum,” the page bobbed and whistled for others to come and attend to the mounts.

“The tiger stays with us, he is bonded to the elf maiden.”

The boy seemed relieved at the news and set about giving instructions to the other stable hands. Then he quickly ran into the temple.

At the main doorway to the Temple leading from the stables, Olivia was met by Aegius, the Priest of the evening watch. He was old, perhaps in his 70s, much the same as the other priests in the church. The Seventh Church served as a place for induction and initial education for those of the faith. Then, once of age, most either graduated to the Tempering Hall to train as a paladin or moved on to outposts throughout the world.

“Chaplain-Protector,” the venerable priest bowed slowly in greeting, his voice a kindly greeting of warmth and comfort. Above him, worked into the stone of the doorway were the words ”Do not fear, for I am with you, do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

“Father Aegius,” Olivia returned his bow. “I regret that I cannot be of more cordial in my greeting, but we are in dire need.”

The old man, white wisps of hair crowning his head, furrowed his brow with concern. He made his way down the stairs from the temple, his frame thin and short. “I am at your service, child.”

“Our friends Mal’undil and Fir’umil have fallen prey to the influence of Chaos, Father. As has a new friend, Zandra.” She provided an arm to the old priest and walked him towards the cart where they lay, then gestured towards the silent form of Zandra Dawnsetter as she sat astride Thorendel. “This is Karthan, her brother.”

”Greetings under the stars that shine upon this city, most ancient of folk.” the priest greeted in formal elven. He raised a left hand that hovered in the air above Mal and Fir, then gingerly in front of Zandra and her faraway gaze. She hadn’t spoken since leaving the house in Copperwood, but at least she was conscious.

She waited and prayed as Father Aegius made his assessments. It wasn’t long before other priests, all equally as old, arrived accompanied by acolytes bearing litters for those who couldn’t walk. Eventually, all those in the courtyard were waiting upon Aegius as he closed his prayers and viewing. Olivia was thankful to be at his side, the frail man stumbled briefly, causing her to step forward to brace him.

“Bring them to my chapel.” He whispered, his breath short and eyes half-lidded in exhaustion. When the clerics in attendance balked at the encroachment of the tiger, Aegius waved them off, having regained some of his strength. “Nonsense, it is the connection to that beautiful creature that keeps our elf mistress upright and walking!”

As they began filing into the temple, Karthan moved close to Olivia and inquired as to where they were going.

“We go to see Liberios, the head of my Order.” She whispered for his ear alone.

Upon entering the grounds, there is an immediate peacefulness that descends up on the group. At this point, Zandra appears catatonic, but in actuality she is reconciling the things she’s seen, the waking nightmare she experienced. Chaos is nothing new to the world, but this experience…the weight of it hints at the very fringes of something far beyond anything they’ve seen or heard or read.

I’ll pause here in case you want to write up some posts for Zandra or Karthan. Especially if you want to have Karthan converse with the Rook prior to going to the temple.

Olivia motioned for Lau to do what the elven druid said. The rush of air heralding the final appearance of Lamech must have pulled the remains of Fir'umil's conjured flames with him. She exrended her senses, seeking out any further evil...and found the echoes of something primal fading into the dying light of the day.

The paladin sheathed her sword and knelt down beside Mal'undil opposite Zandra and prayed to the goddess. "Great Iomedae, I call upon your righteous hand to bring back my friend from the abyss. Please great one, do not let him travel thru the twilight gloaming so soon."

Sacred Touch stabilizes Mal'undil
Lay on Hands 1d6 ⇒ 3

She kept her hands upon him, a tear rolling down her cheek. Olivia felt she'd seen something like this before. A macabre remembrance of a long ago vision. But she bottled up the thought tightly and stayed within the shelter of her prayers to Iomedae. There would be no losing any of her friends this day.

She looked to Fir, his face was ashen, ghostly peaceful in a way. Karthan was able to render him unconscious...but what would he be like when he awoke?

"Karthan, if you would see to gathering our mounts. I agree, we should get to the Temple as soon as possible." They could set some of the finest clerics im the city to guard over the wizard's mind. She would see to notifying the Arcanamarium after.

She glanced over her shoulder, Lau was about to enter the house.

Olivia was torn, she saw her friend go down, knew the level of danger in the glass dagger in his chest, but her instincts were to press the attack on Lamech.

Iomedae, help me to lay low this new evil!! she prayed, drawing back her bow and loosing an arrow at Lamech.

Smite Evil against Lamech (+2 attack, +3 damage and a +2 AC vs Lamech)
Longbow Shot 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 5 + 2 = 17 Hit!!
Damage 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10

The paladin drops her bow and moves to pull her shield and sword as she steps directly between Lamech and Mal'undil.

"There's a man from the Order who gives me my assignments. They vary from day to day. Some, like this latest assignment, starts off mundane enough. A murder, a robbery, sometimes missing persons." She shrugged and looked at the symbol on the floor. "But like as not, the missions usually turn out like this. Something bigger lurking beneath."

"This is why I choose the honor of becoming a Chaplain-Protector instead of joining my father in the north for the Crusades. We are doing good in Absalom, otherwise I wouldn't be here. More importantly, my Order wouldn't be here."

Olivia pointed respectfully to the wizard. "On occasion my path crosses Fir'umil's. Not always." Olivia smiled. "I follow where the cases take me, I've been given an unusual level of autonomy. As I think the Arcanarium has given your cousin. Such latitude is not given lightly by the people we serve. We serve a common good, Fir'umil and I, even it he'd prefer not to admit it."

She stopped and waited, seeing if Karthan had anymore questions. The paladin was eager to go, but she could understand the curiosity.

"Well currently, demon bits, lacquered box parts and

a symbol on the floor. All of that in a two bit pleasure house. I smell
cinnamon and something foul at the same time."

Her lips upturned at one corner. “Taken together, all is out of place. If this place is so often accompanied by foot traffic, people that would complain about such a smell, why would our opponent pick this establishment? The combination of smells…” Olivia stopped short of mentioning what had gone on outside. The paladin had to be sure it wasn’t something specific to her own…situation.

Instead, she continued adding in the evidence. “Then the demon…these daggers which seem to link seemingly unconnected peoples…then the addition of this Lamech figure Mal’undil mentioned.”

She was going to continue when Fir’umil came into the room.

For Zandra's conversation

“What is Discordia?” Zandra asked, the writing still in her hand.

Olivia turned from the window and rested he shield against the wall. “A long time ago, when I was in seminary, one of my mentors tried to explain what it would be like when I headed to the north.”

“The north?”

She folded her arms and leaned against the windowsill. “My father is currently at the Worldwound in the Mendevian Crusades. I was of the mind to join him upon my completion of training. That was before the Temple approached me with the opportunity to become a Chaplain-protector.” She looked around the room, the strange symbol on the floor, the spot where the creature and the cube had been.

“In my bond with Iomedae, there is no fear for me, I have faith that whatever Her will, I am in it. That kind of faith does a lot in the way of eliminating fear. But my mentor, Father Greil, told me that having no fear didn’t mean there was nothing to fear in this world.” She smiled down at the floor, the symbol. “There is a natural order to the world around us. It includes the good and the bad, all of it falling into a pattern. Father Greil taught me to recognize that and to pick out the discordant notes in the music.”

Zandra thought on the paladin’s words.

“It’s like the rare instances when Caleb’s lute is out of tune. The single string out of place in the lows and highs represents Discordia.”

Olivia watched as Zandra let the words sink in then gestured towards the floor and the symbol. “Observe, don’t think. Then tell me what you see.”

”Olivia, can you see f that is an evil entity and can you do anything to stop it from escaping?”

Olivia watched as the eagle flapped to the curtained window, pushing its way through and out. She stooped down and retrieved her dagger, frowning at her miss earlier. “I’m detecting some resonance…receding like a cold tide.”

She stood and crossed the room, careful to avoid crossing the lines of the circle, and drew the curtains fully from the window. The conjured eagle was flying out over the crowds below. Lots of people going about their business, unaware of what was going on above their heads.

She allowed her senses to carry out beyond the window, seeking the direction in which the evil was traveling. The people below, hundreds of them moving to and fro, conducting business. She felt as though she should be seeing someone running through the crowds. But there was…

“No one,” Olivia responded. She gripped the window frame next to her, continuing he search.

Then things turned for the stranger. A face in the crowd, a young girl trying to buy fruit from a vendor, she stopped her transaction and turned fully to face Olivia. The little girl’s face, slightly smudged with grime, but eyes bright with youth, stared up at the Chaplain-protector.

Olivia smiled down at her, about to wave…then a second person in the crowd, someone leading a cow down the road by a rough-spun rope, he stopped short causing a pair of dwarves to curse and stump around the cow and owner. The man turned and faced the window, face upturned to stare at Olivia.

Dozens more followed suit. Olivia felt a strange ball in her stomach, not of fear…it was something else. It was the discordant notes of those faces. They looked at her, as though they drew in her face in to their memories, studying every line and curve and aspect of Olivia Duneheim. The ball in her stomach grew.

“Discordia…” she whispered. A priest in her early education had mentioned that word to her. He’d said it represented all that was wrong, when things should be right.

“What?” Zandra was going through the papers on the desk.

Olivia looked back to the elf, a frown upon her face. “No one running, but your eagle is continuing to search.”

The paladin looked back out the window, but the faces were going back about their day as though nothing had happened. “Let’s gather what intelligence we can and get back to Mal’undil.”

The paladin shrugged off the wave of fear roiling from the small room...
Fortitude Check 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

Her breath smoked in front of her, the feeling of a deep emptiness pressing into her chest and into her lungs.

"Zandra, Olivia, clear the room!"

Olivia shrugged off the damage and smirked at the elf's tone, amused at his use of authority. But she headed into the room as the eagle Zandra had conjured flew up into the exposed rafters to get a look at the place.

The Chaplain-Protector drew her longsword and swept right, seeing the floor where the frost was still smoking...just barely. The only light in the room was the sconce on the far wall. She'd have to depend on the elves to get the lay of the land. With a quick search, she felt for any more actively evil presences.

...her attention went back to the center of the room...there was an ebbing presence, like a brackish water receding down a length of riverbed. Then it was gone.

"My side clear," she said, sheathing her blade.

She reached into her satchel and drew out a light crystal, speaking the command word to ignite it. Benefits of the her station. Another look around the room with the fresh light.

Perception Check 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13

Yeah, there was the symbol on the floor, the drawing lines now frosted over. What kind of mess where they in? Where would it lead?

She looked back to the doorway. What did Fir'umil know about it?

Also at 19...

“I will not treat with the ruinous ilk of Chaos!”

The Chaplain-Protector flips the dagger over and throws it at the little creature, shield coming up so she can be in the best position to protect the others, hand going to the hilt of her sword.

Throwing Weapon – 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11- Miss!

Olivia has Aura of Courage – Those in 10’ range get a +4 to resist fear effects.

Olivia checked the door, testing the knob. It turned easily under her hand. A quick glance over her shoulder to ensure all were ready. Then she cast open the door, dagger ready.

The room was small, 15 by 15 with no bed to speak of, just a desk in the corner. It was lit by a sconce and a set of candles arranged on the floor. Those candles aligned with a strange pattern drawn in chalk. At the center a tiny creature, maybe a foot tall sat languidly upon a square box of lacquered wood.

"Ah, goodie goodie. I was wondering when you would arrive." He creature's voice was deep, rumbling and too large for its tiny body. As it spoke, the candles arranged on the floor burned brighter. It lent the creature further aspect; all black, winged...eyes two burning red rubies in a nearly beautiful fae-lke visage.

Initiative please for Karthan and Zandra. I rolled in the earlier post for Fif and Olivia

She made short work of gaining entrance to the upper level of the inn. Weiss, for all his smirking at hers and Zandra’s figures wanted little to do with the hassle the paladin could bring into his establishment. He was even nice enough to offer information on the tenant belonging to the room Zandra had indicated.

A single man, human, scars upon the right side of his face, right eye clouded over. Weiss offered nothing further without coin, of which Olivia refused to pay. Point of fact, she was of the mind to have a few clerics from the Temple come down and “clean” the establishment. But she’d given her word to the proprietor that she would not…so it would have to wait.

The important note, the tenant had ascended the stairs last night, but had not departed.

The four made their way upstairs, the top landing leading to a hallway going left to right. The room in question was towards their right, at the end, number 19. She held up a gauntleted hand for the three behind her to wait…checked in both directions, listening.

Perception Check – 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16

Moans from the room across from the landing, filthy moans of a man and woman…an argument to the left between two women…but nothing down the hallway to the right. She waved them forward as she headed down the hall, walking casually. Times past had taught the Chaplain-Protector that the more one tried to sneak, the more one attracted unwanted attention. This was an inn and foot traffic was to be expected.

As they neared the door, she drew her dagger. The close quarters in the hallway wasn’t conducive to the sword at her hip. Fir’umil moved to the side of the doorway, one hand on his staff, the other within the sleeve of his robe probably grasping a spell component of some sort.

Olivia looked to the others and nodded for their readiness. Then she sensed the door, eyes closed as she felt for the presence of evil…

Initiative Roll – 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19

She watched the tiger move, saw how both elves studied the animal’s reaction to the objects on the table. After spending much of her life in Absalom, Olivia wasn’t one to fall to surprise. In fact, it wasn’t the idea that a pair of Grey Elves keeping company with a snow tiger that gave her pause, it was their shared serenity. The obvious answer was their short tenure in Absalom.

Or was it the fact Olivia had been part of the city far longer than she’d originally planned? Ioemade had seen to it that after her education at the Temple, Olivia had been immediately brought on as a Chaplain-Protector. Olivia had been of the mind to return to Cheliax upon her commission as a Paladin in the Goddess’ service. Once home, she’d planned to muster a contingent and travel to Mendev. There to rejoin her father’s company at the Worldwound and fight in the Crusades against the demons that poured from that cursed land.

Olivia’s hand brushed the amulet suspended about her neck, the starburst behind the long sword with the shadow of an open book in the background. The last was an addition to the normal emblem of the goddess Iomedae. The open book of Iomedae’s justice signified the Holy Order of the Chaplain-Protectors, given to those in the service who sought out to enact justice where it was lacking. There were no regrets in the young paladin’s heart. She was honored to have been called to the service even if it meant not serving alongside her father in the Mendevian Crusades. In fact, her father had sent word back from the northern frontiers expressing his pride in knowing his daughter had been selected for the honor.

”…but I know to expect nothing less than the best from my warrior-daughter, praise be to Iomedae for your heart and spirit.” Her father’s words still buoyed Olivia’s spirits when in the midst of her work in Absalom. Between her prayers to the goddess and the letters from her father, she found the strength she needed to face all manner of evils spawned in the City at the Center of the World.

Was she a bit darkened by the work? Perhaps. That’s probably why she took some pleasure in seeing the serenity in the Grey Elves before her. It was a rare thing in Absalom, at least outside the Green Ridge district, to see such peace in the eyes of a being.

Olivia returned her attention to the elves, seeing them as they stood before the objects on the table. The tiger returned to lay upon a rather complicated platform; his viewing of the items completed for the time being. He curled his bulk onto the gnomish contraption and rested his ice-chipped eyes upon the female elf. He seemed to wait, studying the two to confirm if they were able to pick up on the things he’d sensed.

Karthan and Zandra held their hands above the objects, assessing them for magical influence, no doubt. Olivia held her council. Where elves were concerned, she had the belief that magic was more a part of them than any of the other races. Even if one of the Temple clerics had reviewed the items, the paladin felt more comfort seeing the elves proceed. Magic not under the auspices of Iomedae had a distinctly different flavor and behavior.

Besides, she could compare their results with those of Fir’umil’s. Olivia had been expecting the wizard to speak up in some manner of perceived insult. They had a history, her and Fir’umil. To her he was simply arrogant and self-absorbed. The Temple clerics had a relationship with Tabir the Grey, being one of the more respected instructors at the Arcanamirium. When Fir’umil had been taken on as an apprentice of the old wizard, Tabir had been quick to being offering the young elf’s services to the Order of Chaplain-Protectors with regards to magical crimes. Arrogant and self-absorbed he may be, Fir’umil had a knack for sniffing out some of the most minor magical clues left behind at crime scenes. That skill in and of itself outweighed his sour personality.

Besides, Olivia trusted the judgment of both the Temple and Tabir the Grey. A bad personality did not an evil individual make. Fir’umil’s uses in her efforts were numerous and if Iomedae had taught her anything, it was that instruments of justice appeared in all manner of people and places. She had her misgivings when it came to Fir’umil; an undercurrent of ambition that seemed to resonate with his arrogance among other things.

Olivia shook herself from her thoughts. She needed to stay focused on the investigation, keeping her resolve to use any and all instruments at her disposal to see the job done that would bring glory to her goddess.

She would take the opportunity at some point to speak with Fir’umil’s master, Tabir the Grey. The old wizard could sort out her misgivings regarding the elf. At that point, she would decide if her associations with him were at an end and she would make the appropriate recommendations to the Order.

Stepping forward for assistance...