"I know you aren't, we all do Alexa." Darya says reaching across the table to rest a hand on Alexa's for a moment. "I don't need to look into your soul to know that you'd never side with those bastards. They've done so much, to each and every one of us....to everyone in the city, or what's left of it, who hasn't joined them."
"It's clear though that there are things...wrong things done by those who are supposed to be representing the Light. I'm sorry you and your family had to suffer things like that."
Alexa sniffs and uses her free hand to rub the corner of her eye. She doesn't take her other hand away from Darya's touch.
"...and that's the problem, isn't it?" She looks into her glass again. "With an enemy as monstrous as demons, it becomes frighteningly easy to justify doing anything to stop them. That's what they count on..."
Demons are not known for allowing the truth to be Truth. They twist the Truth to their nefarious designs in an attempt to deceive and tempt us to do their biding, to make us want to do it. Ignore them, we are not bound to our pasts in the same way fiends are. the elf replies to the story.
Uriel relaxes visibly. "Oh. Those Templars. I thought you meant the Templars of the Ivory Labyrinth for a moment." Uriel says, most relieved. "Yes, Hulrun's overzealous mobs are...well, it's difficult to understand how Her Majesty allows it. Some of my own people" he says, unconsciously glancing in the direction of the room's other Ragathiel worshipper "were even caught up in his madness, decades ago, thought impure because our methods differ from hose of Iomedae." he said, thinking of a great-uncle who disappeared before he was born. His family always suspected Hulrun's goons might have had something to do with it, but as nothing could be proved it was little more than a half-forgotten tale from his childhood, one that came rushing back even he spoke.
"No, we aren't, and unlike demons, we get to determine our nature." Darya agrees. Her eyes roam around the table, looking at each of her companions and seeing the agreement and solidarity among them before looking back at Alexa, and gently squeezing her hand.
"Most importantly, you're not alone. Even when they work together, demons, and the scum that side with them are really only out for themselves. Everything you've done has been to protect your family and the people you care about, what we're about to do is for the same reason. As longs as we're there to watch each other's backs, and keep each other from giving in whenwe feel weak, they have no chance of breaking us."
"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."
Arloric is suddenly glad he hadn't taken a sip of the wine yet, or he'd surely have spat it out at this story.
"That...that was the same attack that my parents died in...where I got this."
He pulls off his eyepatch to reveal the dark, unblinking eye hidden behind it, marred all around by angry-looking scars.
"Is this why you'd visit the Park to paint so often? Did the Prelate ask you to watch 'the witch-boy,' like other kids'd call me?" he asks. His tone is not accusing, but it carries the emotion of a man trying to choose the gentlest words possible. "Crocris warned me that though Hulrun and his men had saved me to never, ever trust them. I...guess it makes sense he'd demand you as my friend to spy on me if he thought something like the demon who attacked me possessed me and was lying in wait to cause more havoc or some ancient druidic knowledge would make me snap and start God-Calling fell spirits into Kenabres."
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."
Arloric smiles.
"I know. You proved that in the Garrison and you've proved it for years. You could have confirmed any story Hulrun had in his head about me, just to get him off your back, but you stood up to him and told him nothing but the truth. I'm glad you've been my friend all this time, even if the circumstances that brought it about were...well...THAT."
He finally starts drinking the wine.
"Thank you for trusting me with this, Alexa. Trusting all of us. I swear, on Tree and Stone, I'll make sure any path you walk from this day forth will be your own."
Conversation is muted after Alexa's revelation, but your bonds of friendship are tight and the weight is slowly lifted as dinner is served. The hearty vegetable stew consists of onions, carrots, celery, and potatoes in a tomato base, seasoned with rosemary, thyme and sage. It's a small luxury, but one that is appreciated.
By eight o'clock, the common room has swollen to over four dozen, possibly five, in a sign that people are anxious to return to something of a routine in the new normal. You are clearing your bowls and finishing up your bread when you see a small object fall from the chandelier into the center of your table. It lands with a thunk, narrowly missing Uriel's plate but catching the end of a spoon, causing a small bit of broth to splatter.
You lean in to look, and see a dead rat, skewered with a small, rusty dagger. A note lies between the desiccated body and the hilt.
Trusting in her own divine protection from any possible disease, though still making a face of disgust, Darya reaches forward to extract the note from between the dagger hilt and dead rat, her eyes going up to the roof to follow the fall, before going back to the note.
Darya carefully extracts the blade from the rat. It looks like it's been dead for a couple of days, and aside from the setting? It's something of a familiar sight, as there is no shortage of dead rats in Kenabres. The rodents wasted no time in moving up into the city after both demons and humans had gone.
The note is written on a stained parchment paper, and contains a crude drawing of the Wardstone barrier with the word "TRAITORS" written below in a sloppy hand.
>>> It looks like this <<<
Arloric digs in to the stew eagerly.
"Hmm...could use some parsley next time. I'll have to make sure that's planted before we go."
He startles a bit when the dead rat lands on their table.
"Poor thing," he comments with a frown. Even the smallest creatures didn't deserve to suffer at the hands of demons. As the group reads the note, his frown turns into a scowl.
"So is this a warning or an accusation?"
As broth spatters his garment, Uriel jumps up, his seat clattering to the ground. As he looks up at the swaying chandelier, his eyes seem to brighten with holy light as they sweep the darkness above.
There are no auras in the room, up or otherwise. Darkvision gives you a better view in the dim light along the ceiling--the fixtures in the chandelier direct most of the light down and to the sides rather than up--but there's nothing unusual there.
Uriel's sudden motion catches the eye of a few people in the common room and you see a couple of heads turn your way, but they don't look for very long and return their attention to their respective tables.
Know Religion to see if she knows anything about this.
As you are discussing the strange events, the server who has been attending to your table comes in. They stop when they see you all looking at the remains of the rodent, uncertain what's going on, then they look down. "By the gods!" comes their startled reaction. "Where did that--? Please tell me you didn't just kill that in here."
"No, it was already dead when it dropped from the chandelier," Arloric explains. "We're just trying to figure out who put it there in the first place."
"Pretty sure it's an accusation." Darya says quietly as she looks at the note. "All the more reason to watch our backs."
The server looks to Arloric and says, "Put it here? Why would—" The he sees the note and dagger on the table and. "Oh. Ohhhh. Oh my! Kimroth is not going to be happy about this. Not at all.
"As for who..." He shakes his head. "We've been busy all evening. I suppose anyone who was here before you came could have done it." He sighs and adds, "Any of dozens of people. Including any of us that work here." That last point is emphasized with a frown.
As she considers who would have sent them the threat/accusation, she considers the reactions of the few that notice, Uriel rising from his seat.
"I'm willing to bet whoever just sent us this message is still watching to see the reaction, at least for a little while. Alexa, think you can slip out unnoticed if we draw a bit of attention? Maybe take a once around the building, see if you notice anyone." she whispers.
You notice a few heads turned your way now, and this draws the attention of Kimroth who was making rounds in the common room. He looks over to you with a puzzled expression, then makes the decision to come in. "Everything OK in here, Vagnus?" he asks?
"Um, not really," the server answers. "Someone seems to have, um, left them a message." He points down to the rat, and then the note. Kimroth's face starts at shock and then turns hard and angry.
It's a rare sight to see Kimroth angry. He used to fight as a soldier, himself, until he lost his right arm in a clash with demons across the border in the Worldwound. He's always pretty jovial, especially when talking with other crusaders and soldiers that have been on the front lines. His uses his inn for swapping war stories as much as he does for earning a living.
Arloric nods at Darya's suggestion, casting his own eyes about discreetly.
Alexa finally gets herself together enough to take a look of her own.
You're not sure what's giving it away, exactly, but there's just something about his body language when he glances your way that doesn't seem to fit with his demeanor (or rather, the one he's trying to project). A hint of nervousness, maybe? But, yeah, you are pretty sure there is something that doesn't fit here.
Human male in his mid to late 20's, about 5'6" to 5'8", short black hair. Dressed casually.
Alexa's eyes fall on the man, then she looks to Darya, gently nodding her head towards the person of interest.
She gets up out of her seat and prepares to approach him, taking the other unopened bottle of silver wine with her.
Taking Alexa's subtle cue, Darya plays her part, drawing attention to herself by standing abruptly, slamming the knife, point-down into the table in righteous indignation as she stares down at the note, exclaiming loudly. "WHo would do this!!"
At Darya's outburst, every conversation in the common room stops and all heads turn your direction. Alexa uses this time to sneak behind the man's table, and though her movements are bit less graceful than usual, he's too absorbed in the paladin's outburst to even notice what's happening around him.
Kimroth, in the mean time, seems to catch on and says, perhaps a little louder than is necessary, "OK, OK! Now let's stay calm! We'll figure out who's responsible for this. I'll personally see to it!"
Uriel crosses his arms, slowly sweeping his glowing gaze across the room.
Alexa comes up alongside the timid man and puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Excuse me, would you come with me for a moment? I need to speak with you." She says, her tone even but her eyes laser-focused on him.
Darya keeps an eye on the man as Alexa addresses him, trying to read his actions.
The man stiffens as a hand grips his shoulder, and he turns to see Alexa staring him right in the eyes. There's a moment where his eyes widen in panic, and Alexa feels his body tense and jerk lightly, like he might bolt. But he looks around with his eyes, still wide and nervous, sees the crowd of people--some of which are now turning to face him--and he sags. He manages a meek and shaky "O-O-OK."
Eyes turn to face him as he walks alongside Alexa towards the private room, where Kimroth is still talking, loudly, about getting to the bottom of this, and getting the dead rat removed from his inn. You hear voices from his table now, one of them clearly standing out, saying, "Merrin, what did you do?" followed by growing murmurs from the crowd.
Kimroth turns to face Alexa and the man, who you assume is Merrin, as they walk in. "Are you responsible for this? Are you?" Kimroth looks genuinely angry at this point, no longer putting on a show. Merrin's face goes ashen.
Alexa tries to get a read on Merrin...
"Because if this your idea of a joke, I'm afraid no one is laughing." She says in her best 'disappointed mother' voice. "It was incredibly disrespectful."
"Kimroth, my good man, take it easy...no one's actually been HURT, and we're not even sure if Merrin here set that up or not, but he certainly won't tell us if we're all yelling at him!" Arloric says, sliding up to the conversation. Then he looks at Merrin. "This'll go a lot easier if you're honest with us, Merrin. If you know something about this little display, please tell us. It may seem like a small act, but small acts can have big effects, like the ripples of a stone dropped in a pond."
Uriel stares directly at the man for a few moments, double-checking just to be sure.
Telerin looks at the man, in her eyes, a pleading for him to tell the truth.
Between Alexa and Arloric's friendly approach and Uriel's baleful glare, Darya opts to hang back, watching the exchange carefully to determine which approach was more effective with the man.
Merrin looks uncertain, and for a moment Alexa is concerned that she may have made an error. But seeing everyone focus their attention, and in some cases their hostility, on him has an immediate effect. He starts to speak, looking somewhat defiant and combative, but then Arloric speaks in a calming voice and he stops short.
He takes a long look at everyone, then at Kimroth, then collapses to the ground in tears. "You've killed us. You've killed all of us! There's nothing stopping them now. Nothing!" His cries turn to choking sobs.
Up to this point Kelly has been characteristically quiet, simply listening to the conversation, then staring in shock as the strange events unfold, unsure of how to react other than exploding into violence(which was not the proper response, she was certain).
Seeing the perpetrator collapse in fear and despair though, touches her somehow. It's something she can empathize with.
She approaches the man on the floor, stepping easily between the legs of her taller friends, and gently takes his hand. "WE can stop them."
"Kelly's right," Arloric says. "They could have rolled over Kenabres and we'd have already been dead or worse. But we stopped them, beat them back. The Wardstones were never meant to be a permanent solution...they were a way to buy us time until we could truly strike back, and that time, Merrin, is now."
Uriel sighs heavily, all the tension and anger leaving his body. He frowns at the man, and shrugs. "You think we meant to? We wee doing all we could to stop them, same as you would've done in our shoes. We couldn't just let them have the stone. We had no idea what would happen. Now we're in this situation, and we're going to make the best of it. Would you rather we lay down and wait for death?"
Seeing that you seem to have things in hand, and that the situation is far more complicated than it originally appeared, Kimroth motions to the servers to follow him back the common room. They set to the task of returning the atmosphere to something resembling normalcy.
It takes time for Merrin to regain his composure. He listens to Kelly, Arloric, and finally Uriel. After a long silence he says, "I...I suppose not. It's just... We're scared. We're terrified. And now you're leaving, and we're left with...
He sits up, wiping his cheeks and eyes. "I lost my mother to them years ago. And now my younger brother is missing. Nothing's gone right. First the Kite. And now this.
"I don't...I don't know why I did it. There are others who are scared, too. Like me. I was with some of them, earlier. And we all wished we could do something but we knew there was nothing we could do, right? And then someone pointed out that wasn't true. We could send a message. Make you understand what it's like to live like this. And I realized they were right, and it seemed like the right thing to do. It just made sense. But now it...doesn't. I feel sick.
"I have a little talent. Not much, but enough. Now I wish I didn't. It's the only reason I offered to do it."
"Offered to do it?" Alexa tilts her head. "Who put you up to it?"
"I was just having some drinks with one of my buddies, right? And we met a couple of others, and, um." You see him furrow his brows. "It was Laurel's idea." He shakes his head and adds, quietly, "No, that can't be right." He is lost in thought for a moment, then recovers. "No, it had to have been Laurel, because it was someone I know. I mean, it doesn't sound like something Laurel would suggest, but I guess you never know people 'til something happens, right? But I wouldn't trust the other two. I didn't really know them, right? Well, I had seen the one around, but not the other guy."
"I see," Arloric says. "Believe it or not, I know a bit about how you feel, Merrin. I lost my own mother to a demon, years ago. He almost got me too. He gave me this."
He removes his eyepatch, showing off his scar and weird eye.
"There's no lives here demons haven't taken SOMETHING from. Just because we could be considered heroes doesn't mean our lives were any different from yours even a week ago. It sounds like some folk who didn't have your best interests at heart tried to convince you otherwise. Can you tell us more about them? About Laurel?"
He reties his eyepatch.
Something about Merrin's furrowed brow causes Alexa to blink and scrutinize him further.
...is he enchanted? Was his memory tampered with?
Merrin takes a look at Arloric's eye and hangs his head right after. He takes a good look at everyone, and sighs sadly, then tells you what happened.
Anger had gotten to him, of course, but clearly he wasn't the only one. He met up with his friend, Laurel, and they were talking at one of the few pubs to open up in the past week. And they were talking maybe a little too loudly after drinking maybe a little too much, and were joined by another guy—the one whose name he doesn't know—and then by a fourth—the one he didn't know at all. And they got to talking about the future, and all expected basically to be dead soon. Maybe not real soon, but soon--the next time the demons decided to come at Kenabres.
And they felt like there was nothing they could do. Then someone, and he's pretty sure now that it was Laurel—even if it's not the sort of thing Laurel would do, though Laurel had had a lot to drink—suggested sending a message. Just something that would be shocking, not anything that would be stooping to the demons' levels. And he mentioned he could do a bit of magic, and the plan kind of formed. Then someone—and he's not sure who, but probably Laurel—said they heard you'd be here, tonight.
He's able to describe Laurel very clearly and it's not someone you recognize or remember seeing in the common room. Of the other two he was with, he's also able to describe the man he's seen around, though again, not someone you recognize and he admits he doesn't know him very well. When it comes to the fourth person, however, there's a long pause as he tries to come up with a description. And when he does, it's very vague. "Human, about your height," he says, gesturing to Alexa. "Maybe a little taller? He had...brown? Brown hair. I think? Huh. We'd had a couple of drinks. I guess I, uh, didn't pay much attention to what they looked like."
The memory tampering is harder to pin down but you're pretty sure it's been modified. He seems to be coming up with justifications for why some of his memories don't line up with others. One thing that is clear, though, is that part of what was done was having the idea for this stunt originate from one of his friends instead of the person who actually worked the compulsion charm.