Freya seems a little surprised that Hardin doesn't spur his horse to keep up with her. As they approach the edge of town, she reins in her own mount and waits for him to catch up. "I don't like leaving them at your temple," she tells him. "You'll forgive me, but I'm not entirely convinced that your superiors are any better equipped to handle children than the Asmodeans are. Priests are priests, in my book." She smiles at him a bit tightly. "Besides, I'm not sure your stable of whores will be a good influence on them."
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"You'll forgive me, but I'm not entirely convinced that your superiors are any better equipped to handle children than the Asmodeans are. Priests are priests, in my book." She smiles at him a bit tightly. "Besides, I'm not sure your stable of whores will be a good influence on them."
Hardin gives you a very odd look. He seems...tired.
"You honestly see no difference between myself and an Asmodean?"
He shakes his head. "I may forgive that, as you say. But not tonight."
And with that, he dismounts, tugs the bridle of her horse to get it to stop, and crouches, drawing something on the ground with the point of his dagger.
"You've had an education. Let's explore the logic problem."
"We do not want to have the children and their father in the same place."
"We can bunk the men at the safehouse where we can keep an eye on them. At which point, you're either putting the children on the street, putting them with their father, or you're putting them someplace else. You have ruled out my 'someplace else'."
"We can let the men go, and keep the children at the safehouse. For what it's worth, their father swore he'd leave the area. I don't value his word that highly - perhaps you've some reason to trust him that I'm lacking?"
"We can stash the men at the Temple of Iomedae. Except that they'll be noticed there, far sooner than their absence will be noted somewhere else. The children are easier to conceal there until we can get them out of town."
"We can turn the men over to the Order of the Rack. Since you're the one who was educated by Asmodean sisters, I'll take your lead on this - but I won't enter a Temple of Asmodeus unless we're prepared to ensure that no stone stands on a stone when we're done. And I don't think we're strong enough for that."
"We can kill the children. No doubt this would ease your concerns about two extra mouths to feed. Then we can keep the men in the safehouse. That is not a solution I will be party to."
"We can kill the adults. They've given their surrender. They know we have the children. That is not something I'll be party to."
"We can turn the children over to the Order of the Rack. This is also something I will not be party to."
"By your book, all priests are fungible. When you come up with a solution to this, you'll know where to find me."
And with that, he remounts, and rides into the city with Freya. When the fork in the road comes for her to head to the old Temple of Aroden, or for him to ride to the Temple of Iomedae, he stops.
"This is your choice to make, Freya Gilles. Unlike an Asmodean, I will not dictate terms to you. I'm going to the Temple of Iomedae tonight. You, and the children, are welcome to join me. If you choose not to come, I will ride with you to your destination, see that you're safely there, and ride back on my own. The children will stay wherever you say."
"That priest has put us in a difficult situation," Sarien says quietly to the other two. "It's been suggested that the woman who hired those men is of a noble family, which means that attacks and accusations cannot be made lightly. If we try and set a trap at Trask's house, we run the risk of being caught between a noblewoman's words and those of an unscrupulous bandit. Not a good place to be in these parts."
He glanced at the wagons. "On top of that, if we keep these men with us and try to take them into town and get caught with a bunch of bound men trussed up in our wagon, we'll get attention we don't need. Hell, just standing here right now the way we are risks the same!"
Realizing he was clutching his dagger too tightly and waving it around like he was about to stab someone, he focused on loading it back into his clip.
"I don't particularly want to kill them either. They don't really deserve to live, but then we've got bodies to dispose of. Nor does handing them over to Janiven and her friends to deal with much appeal to me either, assuming we can do so without getting caught. Never mind that there are now only three of us plus Jacovo to deal with all of them."
He growled in disgust and spit on the ground. "That bastard left us with quite a mess while he ran off to play with his little childhood friend. So what do we do, my friends? Swallow our pride and follow orders? Or is there a better solution to this dungheap?"
Freya is angry but keeps her voice low so as not to wake the children, as she kicks her horse into catching up with Hardin. "This is not about you, Hardin Clegane!" she spits. "You are not the head of that temple. Once the children are turned over to the chief priest of that place, who's to say he'll ever let us take them away again? I'm sure he'd couch it in the most reasonable terms -- we're not the children's family and have no rights to them; the Temple of Iomedae has greater resources to provide for them; they'll have a much more stable life being raised inside that fortress than being handed over to a bunch of idiot rebels, squatting in an abandoned building and leading lives that will probably get them all killed. Do you have any argument to counter any of that, when it's coming from your superior?" She shakes her head, getting more upset. "You are so blind. You think that you're doing such a wonderful thing, following your 'Inheritor,' making some sort of statement against the way things are. But you overlook the fact that there's more than a handful of Hellknights who think they're being kinder and gentler by claiming your goddess's protection, as well, and it doesn't stop them from obeying orders from the House of Thrune." Freya's voice has been unconsciously rising, and Avielle stirs in her sleep and makes a small sound. Freya quickly checks to see that she is still asleep, and when she begins to speak again, her voice is more modulated. "If we take them to your temple, we lie about who they are, and we make it clear that they are there only for a brief time. Say they're my younger siblings and I'm a streetwalker you're trying to redeem. I've been supporting them turning tricks, but you've persuaded me to let them go to your family's home to work as servants to prevent them from following my sordid example into crime. They only need to stay at the temple for a day or two before you are ready to travel." She looks at Hardin for a sign of agreement.
He growled in disgust and spit on the ground. "That bastard left us with quite a mess while he ran off to play with his little childhood friend. So what do we do, my friends? Swallow our pride and follow orders? Or is there a better solution to this dungheap?"
"I too am concerned for the children's well being. If I did not feel my presence needed here to watch over the captives, I may have gone after them as well. To pass such a judgement on an ally that has proven himself trustworthy, seems somewhat premature. Let us reign in our frustration and give him the benefit of the doubt until further actions prove otherwise."
We do have a support network back in the city that might be able to help with the prisoners and the children. Let's not rush to hasty decisions when our sponsors may have better alternatives. We could let them do the touchy work while we continue to do the dangerous work.
"I am in agreement. I would like the opinion of those with far greater resources than I."
"Do you have any suggestions as to how we might next proceed?"
"Do you want to drop them off at the Temple first, or head to the Shrine of Aroden, so I can drop you off and take them back?"
"I'm going," she states firmly. "Should we leave the horses at the stable first? Not many Wiscrani street whores ride hired mounts."
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"We'll drop off the horses at the stable first. And we'd best make plans to move the children tomorrow, lest they talk and blow your cover story."
"Alternatively - if you're willing - we can ask Jocovo's parents to watch them for the evening and get them out of town tomorrow morning, while we leave the horses at the stable."
"Do you think they would?" Freya asks hopefully, showing some enthusiasm for the first time. "They liked the horse. The girl says she knows how to cook, and the boy cleans things or something. They ought to be able to make themselves useful, if you think they'd let them stay at the stable."
"Before either they or their 'da' change their mind," Freya agrees sourly, as she directs the horse toward its home.
"Do you have any suggestions as to how we might next proceed?"
Jacovo shrugs.
Back to town, I guess? Unless you plan on letting these chaps go, or, I suppose, killing them? I just drive the horses.
Sarien shrugs. "Okay, let's be off then. Tao, it'd probably be a good idea for you to keep an eye on them, just to be on the safe side."
Sarien shrugs. "Okay, let's be off then. Tao, it'd probably be a good idea for you to keep an eye on them, just to be on the safe side."
Tao nods to Sarien, "Back to town it is then."
The wagons trundle back to town, laden with glass baubles and bound bandits. At the gate, the wagons are stopped by the Dottari.
Declare, please.
Sarien looks to Ruano and gestures for him to deal with the Dottari.
Freya glances across at Hardin, a frown creasing her brow. "Did you tell the others what to do with the bandits? Do you think they have the wits to smuggle a group of prisoners into town?"
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"Wits, yes. Those they have aplenty." He shrugs. "I can plan for likely outcomes."
"I figure they'll be asked about the contents of the wagons coming in. Hopefully, the prisoners won't raise a fuss...but for all I know, they'll turn the prisoners in to be shut of them."
"At which point, my life gets interesting. Tao called me by name in that fight. Thankfully, the rest of you should be anonymous."
"If they don't turn the prisoners over to the Dottari, I suggested they take them to Arael. Their leader was a capable man. It would be a worthwhile thing, in my estimation, to put him to use for us. It's not like we don't have leverage." He nods to the drowsing kids. "I read his 'they're better off without me' speech as his last best attempt to sacrifice himself to preserve them."
"But then, I prefer the uncertainty of hope to the bitter certainty of cynicism." His voice drops as they come closer to Jocovo's parent's place. "After all, isn't cynicism the prime tenet of Asmodean philosophy? By clinging to yours, aren't you simply validating everything the nuns taught you?"
He raises his hand to forestall the likely explosion as the door comes up. "Later, not while we're trying to present ourselves as decent people."
Freya shoots Hardin a dirty look but says only, "And if they don't declare the bandits to the Dottari and are caught hiding them, I suppose it'll just be another jailbreak for us." She remains on the horse, holding up the sleeping children, leaving Hardin to speak to the stable-owner.
Hearing the lie in Rauno's words, Sarien closes his eyes briefly and steps from the wagon.
"G'day, milord. We also come with an urgent message. There were clouds of black smoke on the road a few miles back. I suspect another wagon may have had the bad grace to encounter bandits. We've hurried back to the city at great haste to summon help, fearful of our own lives and our cargo. Perhaps it is now too late, but aid might be needed on the road."
The ranking guard's eyes narrow at Rauno's stammering, but upon hearing about the wagon, he gestures to the other guards, who quickly mount horses and ride in to the city. Fortunately, he seems to have completely missed that Rauno declared the wagons are bereft of cargo, while Sarien mentioned hurrying home fearful...for cargo. He quickly writes a line in a journal of some kind, and absently waves the party on.
Sarien nods. "It probably would be wise to give them a little warning. I'll go on ahead; I can be of more use explaining the situation than keeping guard."
He takes a moment to arrange another meeting at a specific time and place (whatever's appropriate) before jumping from the wagon to vanish into the crowd.
Well, did everything go alright?
The door opens, and a kindly older woman - she seems to be in her 50's - looks up at you.
Yes, dears - picking up or returning?
Sarien takes a breath and lets it out slowly. "I haven't a clue what we should do with the prisoners. Do you have any ideas?"
Before Arael can speak, however, Sarien grins rather wickedly. "Or maybe, since Hardin is so concerned with taking prisoners, we should just have them delivered to his temple? The Iomedaens can figure it out. Unless you have a better idea?"
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Hardin says, "We're returning one horse, and we're friends of Jocovo's. The other horses and wagons will be here later."
"We also have a complication. We will be taking these children out of town in a day or so. They got mixed up in something unpleasant with their father and we want to make sure that they're kept safe. However, before we can get them out of town, we need to put them up for a short while.
Can you watch them until Freya and I come for them?"
Lest you forget, noble Sarien, I also am an Iomedaen. Hardin's temple is my temple, and his goddess is my goddess. His approach to matters is different from mine - somewhat, anyway - but the tenants that govern our actions remain the same. I can assure you that the goddess will never look with disfavor upon taking prisoners instead of killing them outright - such men have been redeemed before, and in fact have thrived after lives of crime. I would ask you to consider this: if I had not sent missives to you and recruited you to our cause here... he gestures around the temple, how long might it have been before you may have turned to a similar life? Not saying that you would have, only that you MIGHT have. Fortunely, we need not discuss such... unpleasantries.
He ponders briefly.
Bring them here, please. I'll talk to them, see what type of men they are, and decide what to do with them. Most likely, we'll turn them over to the Dottari. It's possible, though, that another outcome might be arranged. We'll see. Thank you for warning me about this situation, I'll see to some arrangements.
Very well. My husband is returning, then? Bring the children inside, please. Good heavens, they're exhausted! And it looks like they haven't had a good meal in ages...and are those bruises!?! By the Lady!
Sadly, Freya is unused to asking for help nicely, and her discomfort is intense and off-putting.
Yes, Yes dearie... no cause for alarm, I'll see to them. First, with a bath! Let's just get them inside... now, who will be picking them up?
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He helps lead the kids into the house, and then, as it's time to head back to base, he'll say to Freya,
"I don't know if it will work - but I'm obligated to at least try. I want to talk to their father, with Arael present, and you waiting in the background. I'd like to set him on to making sure that other wagons don't get hit, with the promise that if he does so, and works with Arael, eventually, he may get his kids back."
"He may run for the hills. If he does, he's already as much stated that he'll change his name and forget he ever lived here. He may do us some good - it keeps us from having to repeat this process again.
However, my condition for him seeing his kids again? He's got to convince you that he's a reformed man. Is that even possible?"
Sarien does not look at all abashed by Arael's words.
"I have no quibble with saving lives, though these men in particular were certainly eager enough to end my own. But I do not approve of Hardin's decision to take captives without assuming any responsibilities for their lives, and arbitrarily forcing you and our group to deal with them. He left us at considerable risk to bring those prisoners into the city without being caught which, incidentally, was a close thing."
He shrugs.
"I'll go meet up with the others and have the prisoners brought here. I only wished to expressed my continued distaste for the man's decisions."
Sarien nods and hurries off to meet with the others at the agreed upon location.
After finding the wagons meandering through the streets of Westcrown, Sarien directs them to return to their headquarters, and keeps watch to ensure that no one is following them.
Tao joins Sarien and Rauno in keeping a watchfull eye.
After thoroughly ensuring that they are not being watched or followed, the wagons holding the prisoners make their way to the temple of Aroden. As the sun is beginning to set, the streets are nearly empty - enough so that Sarien and Rauno are able to quietly escort the prisoners into the temple while Tao observes the street for any signs of the Dottari or Hellknights.
Just as the wagons are pulling away (lead by Jocovo) for their return back to the stables, Freya and Hardin emerge from a side street, headed toward the temple and bantering quietly. The party enters the temple together, as dusk creeps over the little-visited corner of Westcrown.
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Hardin sees Sarien's face, and forestalls for a moment. "I can guess what's going through your mind. First things first - let's get you healed up. After that, we'll present the problem to Arael."
He ticks off points on his fingers.
"First, this place won't stay secret long if we keep bringing prisoners here."
"Second, we don't really have the facilities to secure prisoners here long term - just think about feeding them and the extra traffic that will entail."
"Logistics issues aside, I want to confront Arael with the problems that this presents and see if he has any solutions. Ethically, I agree - I dislike killing people when they've given their surrender. And killing people won't win us many friends. We need to demonstrate that we're a better option, not simply a more convenient or ruthless one."
Freya shoves her way past the men, seeming to be in a worse mood than usual -- although admittedly it's hard to tell with her. "Perhaps this will be a dose of reality for the idealists," she mutters. "Faced with the responsibilities of feeding and boarding the miscreants while we wait for them to repent of their criminal ways, they might well be happy to let me finish them off in the future."
Sarien rolls his eyes. "I'm a bloody thief -- and a damned good one -- not an assassin. I can't understand why everyone seems to think I'm in favor of murder. If you'll recall, I defended Arael's argument that the Hellknights should be allowed to live when possible."
He smiles coldly at Hardin. "What I am not in favor of is one man making decisions and then running off to allow other people to suffer the consequences of them. Next time you take prisoners, Hardin, you take care of smuggling them back into town. Stop foisting your problems on other people and take some gods damned responsibility!"
With an effort, he swallows his anger and simply leans against a nearby wall with his arms crossed.
Arael emerges from the back, where he has been seeing to the prisoners, and moves toward his travelling duster, which is hanging on a hook. Seeing everyone assembled, he pauses.
I believe I'm going to get word to the mayor that we have some cargo that needs picked up. I'll leave it to him how to handle that, but he's a good man, and I believe he can be trusted. In fact, I believe he'd be on our side if his title and prominance allowed it - but, of course, they don't. When I get back, we can ask them whatever we wish to have answered truthfully... under a zone of truth spell, of course. But storing them here is quite out of the question. Besides, the mayor will ensure that word is spread that The Liberators assisted the Wescrani people today, and that supplies of food and goods should be getting in more safely now. It will be good for him to do so.
He slips quietly out the side entrance.
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Hardin looks at Sarien. Nods. "You are right - I put you three at risk unnecessarily. For what it's worth, I was wrong, and you have my apologies. I will try to make sure it doesn't happen again."
"For an explanation, I'd told Freya to stash the children here. When the decision was made to also bring the prisoners here, that would mean that using the children as leverage on the behavior of the prisoners would cease to be an option."
"My riding off was to inform Freya of the change in plans. Since I couldn't tell you about the change in plans for the children without also informing the prisoners...you can see the problem, I suspect?"
"I will always try to have a reason for what I do. That reason may be something I have to explain later, but I will always explain it. When circumstances permit - and they usually will - I'll try to talk things out before we go forward on something."
"In light of that - there appear to be good odds that we're going to end up with prisoners on the future. We should make a plan - based on what Arael tells us - for how to offload them and where to offload them, so that if we cannot communicate without compromising said plans, that everyone knows what the standard plan is."
"I'd also like to move the children out of town; my family can watch them. The options I can see are that I can go, Freya can go, we both can go, or we can send them with Jocovo and a letter of introduction. I am also willing to bring on any of you - in case you need some down time. Can you see any other options?"
An hour or so later, Arael returns, a nimbus of magical light emenating from a coin in his hand, which he subsequently stows in a pouch at his belt.
Well then, that's taken care of. Shall we question the accused?
He gestures, and leads the way into the back room which holds Elgar Trask, of late the captain of the brigands.
Alright, Trask. I'm about to cast a spell. When I do, you'll find yourself unable to speak an untruth, unless you've a stronger force of will than I suspect you do. We're going to check your story. It'd be nice if you'd oblige. If you don't, the truth will come out anyway... it will merely be less pleasant for you. Understand?
The bandit captain smirks a crooked half-smile, and nods briefly. I understand, alright.
Arael casts a spell.
Zone of Truth
Arael briefly locks eyes with Trask, and the tension in the room grows. Trask looks away first.
So, anyone with any questions for our visitor? I'd remind you, Trask, that attempts to be evasive will be frowned upon.