"Okay, whatever it is, we'll deal with it in stride, Alexa, it can't be all that bad." Darya says supportively. "Let's go find a quiet spot so you can get this off your chest."
"Just call me Alexa." Alexa replies.
"And I have to say--I wasn't expecting to be assigned this mission so soon. But that's war for you... when the enemy's weakness is shown, you don't hesitate in exploiting it." Her tone sounds more than a little bitter.
----------------------
"...I need to get a few things first. I'll meet you in one of the Heart's side rooms."
"Okay, meet you there this evening." Darya replies before heading out to meet with Irabeth.
"It seems that we have something in common, Alexa. Though I have been on the front lines before, it has been some time since I was attached to a company. I volunteered for this assignment just this morning."
And then it hits you. You think you know who this is, you just didn't recognize him when dressed in full armor. You've seen him at Shelyn's church here in Kenabres before the fall, but you hadn't met in person. You did, however, hear this story in the days after the Garrison.
Most common folk would probably scoff at the notion of Shelyn as a crusader goddess, but it's actually true: it's just that her church functions in more of a supporting role. In Mendev, and specifically in Nerosyan and Kenabres, it is much more formalized affair, with a branch of the church dedicated to long-term recovery from both physical and mental trauma. Here in Kenabres, it was a large operation and there were several wards within a section of the church itself.
None of the churches dedicated to good-aligned deities emerged unscathed on Armasse. Sheyln's church was attacked by a pack of the ratlike abrikandilu demons, and the tenacious fiends descended on it in waves. Those defending it were caught in a battle of attrition, so the priests made the decision to evacuate the remaining patients still in their wards--the ones who could not easily be moved when the assault began. Not being a particularly martial church, the high priests themselves served as the rearguard to cover their escape, and most of them died doing it. There were only a couple that survived, and Sosiel must be one of them.
It's another story that's become all too familiar: a handful of people giving their lives to save others. But of course this was your church, too, just a side of it that didn't cross your path.
"I hear the struggle behind your voice," he says. "As in any war, there are two ways to lose to the enemy: you can be broken in body, or broken in spirit. I am here to help defend against both. My tent is always open."
Irabeth's words cause Darya to wince as they bring home the brutal reality of the hundreds that had died, just for them to get to this point, and the countless others that probably would before this was all over. "At this point, Kenebres needs survivors more than anything else.If you're likely to see a change soon I might have something that suits you in mind."[B] thee flame haired Paladin, says leaning forward.
[B]"Thea queen has given us a mission to take advantage of this moment while the demons recover and get organized again. Take back Drezen and reclaim the Sword of Valor."
She lets her words hang for a moment, allowing the impact of her statement to settle in. " there's sure to be pockets of demons here and there disorganized as they might be so it'll be out band and a small contingent of a hundred paladins. They'll need a skilled leader, one who can keep her head when it all goes to hell...a survivor to show them how to. Think you're up for it?" she asks with a hint if a smile, and a glimmer of battle fury in her eyes.
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Irabeth's expression changes to one of astonishment, and she seems completely at a loss for words. "Are you...? Wait. You're going to retake Drez—?" She stares at you, eyes wide with her mouth part open, stuck mid-word. She regains her composure with a quick shake of her head, clearing the confusion as if it were a physical force. "Darya. Are you saying you want... Are you asking me to...command an army?"
She sits back in her chair, looking stunned. "I..." She starts to talk again, but her expression shifts as she vacillates. "Anevia. I can't leave her. Not here, and especially not now, with her leg as it is." She leans forward and says, "If you could...if there was a way to bring Anevia, I'd do it. Get her leg healed, and you'd get a scout. Or another scout, if you have one. I am sure she'd do it.
"Maybe—maybe it's too much to ask, but that's what I'm asking."
The Lady Telerin will go about the camp looking to see if there are any arcane users present.
You walk back to the Knights' staging area just behind Alexa, and watch as she veers towards Soseil's tent. Several of the paladins bow their heads to you as you pass, some saying "My lady", others not sure exactly how to address you, but all of them showing polite respect.
You look for the telltale signs of an arcane spell caster, but none are attached to this group of soldiers. Or, as near as you can tell as you pass between them, in the units or companies camped next to them. Except, in a fashion, for Nurah. The halfling woman is obviously a bard, but some of the principles are the same if the exact mechanism is not. You see her talking with two paladins in your newly formed army as they spar, writing in a large tome—or perhaps it's just large for a halfing―as she does, occasionally looking up to ask questions. What grabs your attention is that the book is floating in the air, held at an angle that makes it easier for her to write.
Darya can't help grinning at Irabeth's reaction. "I didn't think you would, besides which, I'd never ask that of anyone. Heading this deep into long-held enemy territory, a good scout is likely the difference between life and death, and from what I hear, your wife's one of the best....besides I'm sure you'll be better off if you aren't leaving a part of yourself behind." she says with a warm smile.
"I'm not sure exactly what magic it'll take to heal her leg, but I promise you if it can be done, we'll make it happen. We're already looking into getting Aravinash's eyes healed, I can't imagine Anevia's leg being more difficult than that. So....assuming we can, you in?" Darya asks with her signature grin.
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Irabeth's tone turns serious, and she nearly bristles. "Do you know why I was knighted? Last year, I rooted out one of the Templars of the Ivory Labyrinth's agents here in Kenabres, one of their more powerful members. That agent was Staunton Vhane, the leader of the Hammers of Heaven, the dwarf we all thought was the great crusader. We looked up to that bastard as a role model to follow, and all along he was fighting for them."
Her voice is close to angry now as she fumes. "There's evidence his treachery goes back over seven decades. That he may have been the one that betrayed Drezen! That's why I was knighted. So. You're here, now, telling me that we are going to take that city back? And that I can command the army that does it? And you want to know if I am in?
"Vhane nearly killed me the night I caught up to him. He bested me, and because of that he got away. Iomedae is giving me a second chance at this. I won't abandon Anevia to take it, but if you can make that work? You are damn right I am in."
Darya nods. "Good, I definitely feel better knowing you'll be in command of the army at my back."
She considers in silence for a few moments. "The Queen wants us to set out the day after tomorrow. I'll go find out about getting the healers and come see you when that's done, before meeting up with the others." she says standing. "To taking Drezen back, and should we come across that bastard along the way...all the better."
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Spellcraft take 10+13 for 23.
As she walks by the militant paladins, her white robes fluttering, she gives them a friendly smile and a nod.
She greets the halfling Greetings. It is nice to see a fellow worker of the arcane. There are not many of us here in Kenebres.
"Lady Telerin!" Nurah says, bowing gracefully and ending with a flourish. "It is an honor and a pleasure!" She stops writing in her book, and it closes on its own then settles at her side, her left arm securing it.
"I was just getting to know the fine crusaders and soldiers in our company. This," she says, indicating the woman on her right, "is Salvia, who came to us all the way from Taldor. And this," now gesturing to the slightly darker-skinned man she was sparring with, "is Shamil, who was born in Mendev, but whose ancestors hail from the lands of Inner Sea, itself." Both of the crusaders greet you with a salute. They bow to Nurah, and politely take their leave so that you can talk.
"You are right, save for the Riftwardens, the arcane arts are in short supply. Unsurprisingly, most attached to the crusades draw from their faith. Not that I am in my lady's league, of course. I only know a few tricks, but they serve us well!" She presents the book she was writing in, revealing it to be a journal. "And, as a historian and annalist for her majesty armies—and most recently for her majesty directly—it helps not having to hold the book myself." She ends with a wink, which she presents as if she were an actress breaking the fourth wall.
"How may I serve my Lady today?"
Never let your contributions looked as less than, even if you have not the faith of the Crusaders, Nurah. They are still inspired by song and story from times gone by. The deeds of the past can still inspire today. Though I honor the gods, however, my magic comes from word and study. Words, as you know, have power. Shall I recount to you our experiences in the undercity for posterities sake?
Nurah looks somewhat taken aback. "That is... That is beautifully spoken. And they are wise words." Her reaction seems genuine. "And I would be honored to record your stories. We will have, I believe, over four days of travel ahead of us. Marching, horseback or not, is far from stimulating, and I can't think of a better way to spend some of that time."
She gives a gentle smile I shall be happy to tell you of our adventure. It might bring hope to those in time to come. Tell me, are you fluent in elven?
Alexa nods at Sosiel. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."
-----------------
"I'm afraid I don't, my Lady. There wasn't much call for it in my previous...service." She hesitates on the word "service" before finally spitting it out, somewhat venomously. "I grew up in Isger, which is like growing up in the slums of Cheliax. Both are a cesspool of fiend-worshipping patriciates.
"I was indentured to the Lord Axilar Trezbot." The way she emphasizes "indentured" suggests it was not a voluntary arrangement. "I was not provided opportunities for formal education, and had to to learn what I needed on my own. Fortunately, Axilar chose to make a name for himself in the Fourth Crusade and brought me along. I say 'fortunately' because my servitude ended when he did."
As the group splits to meet the various specialists and make their offers, Arloric makes his way to Horgus' estate, loudly signaling his arrival with his horn.
You sound your horn in front of Horgus's manor house and wait patiently, remembering from your last visit here how long it took for him to come to the door. After a couple of minutes, you hear the sound of footsteps on stairs, the undoing of latches, and then the door opens to reveal the portly noble. "Arloric! My good friend!" he beams when he sees you. "You know, my first thought was, 'who in this city send a herald of trumpets ahead of them to announce their arrival like they were the queen themselves'?, then I remembered your skill with the horn and realized it must be you, especially when there was only one person standing at my door. Come in! Come in!"
He opens the door wider for you to enter then leads you a sitting room, this one different from the one you saw on your last visit but no less opulent. Horgus seems considerably more relaxed now that large parts of the city are more or less safe to travel. "Please, have a seat! And would you like some tea? Some wine? And, tell me, what news do you bring?"
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You spend some time talking logistics with Irabeth. She asks questions about the troops she would be commanding, their armament, and the route that you are expected to take. She, in turn, discusses possible strategies, which assume making use of Anevia as a scout.
You write an official request to Queen Galfrey, seal it, and find a messenger to deliver it to her command post. You explain the need to have Anevia's leg healed so that she and Irabeth can join the mission, and state unequivocally that their service will dramatically improve the odds of your success.
The elf looks sad as she listens to the halfling's story. The body can be enslaved, but it looks like your spirit and yourself of self have been and always shall be your own
You sound your horn in front of Horgus's manor house and wait patiently, remembering from your last visit here how long it took for him to come to the door. After a couple of minutes, you hear the sound of footsteps on stairs, the undoing of latches, and then the door opens to reveal the portly noble. "Arloric! My good friend!" he beams when he sees you. "You know, my first thought was, 'who in this city send a herald of trumpets ahead of them to announce their arrival like they were the queen themselves'?, then I remembered your skill with the horn and realized it must be you, especially when there was only one person standing at my door. Come in! Come in!"
He opens the door wider for you to enter then leads you a sitting room, this one different from the one you saw on your last visit but no less opulent. Horgus seems considerably more relaxed now that large parts of the city are more or less safe to travel. "Please, have a seat! And would you like some tea? Some wine? And, tell me, what news do you bring?"
"Well, the first news is that I'm now 'Sir' Arloric, knighted by the Queen herself!"
He proudly displays his medal to Horgus as he takes a seat.
"We're now making preparations to leave the city on a dangerous, but worthwhile endeavor: we are going to retake fallen Drezen and recover the Sword of Valor, the sacred demon-repelling banner! The Queen has given us an army of paladins to lead into battle, but we have room to recruit specialists to help us, and were wondering if you'd be willing to lend your own considerable talent to our efforts. Obviously, we'd not expect you to join us on the actual front lines with the paladins, but an army cannot be successful without the aid of many more people and staff, and a noble such as yourself has infinitely more experience in organizing such staff than we heroes do. What say you, my friend?"
Horgus beams. "My friend, congratulations on your knighthood! Or, should I say, Sir Arloric!"
He gives you a mock bow, winking as he does. "But, while I am not surprised to see such public recognition for all you and your friends did to rescue me, I never expected for you to...offer me a business opportunity. Certainly not one of this scale. My heart is racing as I think of the possibilities. And the risks. But..."
He starts pacing back and forth, drumming his fingers on his chin. "Her majesty is showing bold thinking in retaking Drezen. It will be dangerous, and there are no guarantees of success. But no business opportunity comes with guarantees, either. And, if I am being honest, I don't feel particularly safe in Kenabres. Not after what they have done to us." He continues to talk as he paces. "There may be no safer place than the middle of an army of holy warriors. I would be giving up these comforts, of course, but this war demands sacrifices.
"And Drezen! Drezen is symbolic. Just the kind of victory we need. Abadar would be pleased to see it rise again, become a tip of the spear of humanity, and to see us build those industries that will supply our crusaders and keep them on the offensive. That will require goods, services, people, relationships, trade routes, negotiations."
He sits down in one of the chairs, opens a small draw in a wooden side table, and pulls out parchment, quill and ink. "Always have paper and ink at the ready, Sir Arloric, for when wheels are turning they must be committed to paper." He starts writing furiously, inking the quill frequently. "It is 160 miles to Drezen. Too far to march, so you must be on horseback. They are mounted, correct? Good. So a journey of...call it five days, you'll need supplies..."
He scribbles for a few more minutes, so focused that he doesn't even acknowledge your presence. Then, he stops and looks up at you. "I'd need the night to build a preliminary business plan. And I'd need to see your army's logistics commander. Plus time tomorrow to find a caretaker for my estate, since there's no telling how long we'll be gone. But...but...this could work. You came to the right person, Sir Arloric. The nobility here is frightened. Hiding in their homes. Unlike me, they are afraid to confront the outside world, waiting for Kenabres to return to 'normal'. But I have none of these flaws, and I'll have an army to protect me even if I did. Plus. I survived the dangers of the Kenabres underground!
"When do you leave?"
Arloric smiles as he watches Horgus get to work before even saying yes. This was EXACTLY why the Crusade would benefit from his help.
"We set out the day after tomorrow. Plenty of time to get things prepared here for your absence and arrange what you need for the trip. And Horgus? Thank you."
Horgus looksshocked. "The day after tomorrow? You should have come to me sooner, Sir Arloric. There is no time to waste! I will need a letter from you so I can go see your army's logistics command. In it, you need to authorize—" He interrutps himself, waving his hands dismissively. "No, no, no! I'll write it. You sign."
He pulls out a fresh scroll. "Always have paper at the ready, Sir Arloric," he repeats slowly as he works, seemingly unaware that he's already told you this. "There we are. Sign here! Quickly, now."
You read it over as he fidgets impatiently, ending with an eyeroll. There are technically no surprises; it's just a letter giving him very broad authority to make changes to the non-perishable food stores and any supply lines, and so on (which would be surprising coming from anyone other than Horgus). You sign it and he practically tears it away from you.
"Good man! Thank you. Now, off with you. I must get to work!"
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Darya informs Kimroth that you'll be dining as a group tonight, and he sets aside a large table for you in the private dining section.
As agreed, you all return to Defender's Heart at 7:00 in the evening to have dinner together and discuss the events over the past few days. The Defender's Heart isn't big on luxury, so the "private" room is open to the common room and separated by an archway, but in keeping with the theme it does have an iron chandelier and tapestries that are reminiscent of a castle dining hall. The latter helps to dampen the sound, which makes it easier to have a private conversation in a normal voice. The common room has been steadily growing busier each night, though busier is a relative term and barely half of its usual crowd is present as you are seated.
As you are settled in, you're informed that dinner tonight has been paid for by Queen Galfrey. The servers open up with spirits or water as you see fit, and a course of wild greens followed by rice lombard: rice cooked in vegetable broth and seasoned with cinnamon, sugar, salt, and (sadly) tumeric instead of saffron. You've gotten used to rice, lentils, beans, grains in general, and other non-perishable foods. Kenabres as a whole has long been into their emergency food supplies, and everyone is making do.
When dinnertime comes around, Alexa is one of the first to arrive--and she's brought with her two identical bottles of wine filled with what looks like a silvery-coloured liquor.
"Thank you all for coming here." She starts once the meal begins in earnest, setting the two wine bottles on the table and starting to open them. "This is perhaps going to be the last proper meal we'll have in a long time--tomorrow, we march forth on a critical mission at the head of an army."
The aasimar pours herself a glass of silver-coloured wine before offering the bottles to anyone who shows interest. "I believe I told some of you that I owe you an... explanation..." She hesitantly begins. "...for why the demons were so interested in me back at the Garrison."
"That *was* strange, I'll admit," Arloric says as he takes the bottle and pours himself his own glass. "I'd have thought they'd be more focused on the likes of Kelly or myself, who've survived encounters with cultists or demons and thus may have been exposed to Abyssal energies. No disrespect meant, of course."
The elf is quiet but attentive to the story.
Alexa takes a sip of the silvery wine in her glass. It has a dry and smooth taste, with a sweet aftertaste evocative of a longing for happier times.
"Arloric... you remember when I said I had every reason to hate the Prelate?" Alexa asks. "Well, I suspect the reason for that ties into why they saw me in particular as a prime recruitment target."
"First, I have to ask... how old you do think I am?"
Arloric's taken aback by Alexa's question.
"Um...uh, is this the setup for a joke or something? I'd not be so unchivalrous as to ask a lady her age, and I'm not even a paladin!"
"No, it's an honest question." Alexa replies, her tone flat.
"I dunno, mid-twenties? Around my age?" Arloric replies with an embarrassed shrug. "I mean, we practically grew up together!"
Uriel eats quietly, uncertain where this is going. He glances quizzically at Darya. Where is this going?
Darya takes a sip of the wine after pouring a glass, her eyes widening at the amazing bouquet. Listening to Alexa, she catches Uriel's questioning look and shrugs.
Hmm... maybe she's older than she looks. People like us tend to live a lot longer than most humans
"My guess would be about the same. I wouldn't think you're all that much older than I am." she says, knowing that she herself was among the youngest active in the field.
The elf will simply say, You are planar touched. Asking you how old you are is like asking me, or any other elf, how old they are.
"Close." Alexa blinks. "I'm twenty-nine."
She pauses for a moment before sighing. "...there's no easy way for me to say this, so... I might as well get it out of the way now."
"I've been serving the Templars as a spy for seventeen years."
"Wait...what??" Darya blurts out. "That would mean you were twelve when you started!"
Uriel blinks twice, but is otherwise completely still. His mind, however, is reeling. His first thought is to reach for Radiance, but he holds off as his mind races. She fought with us this entire time. How could she be a spy? Maybe she's trying to reform. How much blood does she have on her hands? 12? Children make mistakes. Even Grandfather Ragathiel was born a fiend and rose above it. Instead of doing anything, he simply waits.
"Wait...what??" Darya blurts out. "That would mean you were twelve when you started!"
Alexa pauses for a moment, Darya's reaction being what she expected. It didn't make the pang of guilt going through her heart any less sharp.
"I was." She confirms, her tone weary and resigned.
She takes her glass of wine and drains it in one long draft before resuming. "My family came to Kenabres as refugees after our home village was razed by a demonic incursion. We weren't the only ones left dispossessed; just one of many families left to the mercy of Nature. Demons can be cruel that way."
She sighs. "At the time, Kenabres was dealing with a crisis of its own, and an influx of refugees was the last thing the city needed--food, living space and basic care were all stretched to their limits, and the Witch-Hunters were especially paranoid about potential demonic agents infiltrating the city." The aasimar continues as she pours herself another glass.
"The inquisitors at the gates would subject prospective newcomers to a battery of divinations, and if any of them failed, they'd be turned away. A few were let in, but most were told to find shelter elsewhere... for one reason or another." Alexa's eyes harden and she stares into her wineglass. "When it was our turn, the inquisitor took a look at me first."
"He went and fetched the newly-appointed Prelate Hulrun--said he couldn't believe his eyes, that there was an actual aasimar child at his city's gates." Her tone turns shaky and barbed. "He looked us all over, then made his offer..."
She takes a sip from her wineglass and winces as the taste burns down her throat. "...I would serve the Witch-Hunters, and in exchange, we'd be granted refuge in the city."
Alexa takes a shuddering breath. "We didn't want to do it. It was bad enough that we lost our home and so many of our friends, but now here was someone of the Inheritor's faith--not just any rank-and-file priest, but the leader of the church--wanting to take a twelve-year old girl away from her family and turn her into another one of his zealots."
"But the alternative was uncertain, bound to be worse. So we agreed." She looks at the rest of the table with bitterness in her eyes. "So, when it comes to serving, you were given a choice. I was given an ultimatum."
Darya's expression goes through an interesting transition, beginning with surprise, and evolving to interest as Alexa tells her tale, before shifting to deep compassion as she considers the plight of the refugee family, and the unimaginable pressure placed on a 12-year-old girl. As she considers everything, seeing the bitterness in Alexa's eyes and the tired anger in her voice, her expression shifts again, the fire of righteous anger sparking in the Paladin's own eyes.
"What kind of heartless bastard leverages a family's safety on control over a child?" she says aloud in a low tone reminiscent of a growl.
Alexa takes another drink from her glass. "One who leads a faction of fanatics all clad in the same armour."
"When we were storming the Garrison, after we cleaned up one of Iomedae's worship areas and I left to go scouting, I..." Her grey eyes start to tremble, but her tone doesn't waver. "Seeing the Inheritor among us brought back unwelcome memories."
"The Abyss whispered to me. Said that I could defeat her. Started sending me visions of what I'd be like if I turned cloak for them." She blinks several times before forcing herself to look at the others. "But I still remember everything they've done to me and mine, everything they've done to innocent people... everything they did to all of you."
"I'm never going to serve them."