It is the festival of Armasse in Kenabres. On the frontline facing the demons of the Worldwound, there is normally little to celebrate. But once a year, this is a time of jousts, the choosing of squires and the ordination of new priests into the Church of Iomedae. Locals get to dress up as knights and parade about as the civilian militias engage in mock battles before retiring to the beer tents. The normally dour, tense people of the city can let their hair down a bit and have a little fun, even if the jollities still have a martial flavour.
At Clydwell Plaza, the large square next to the Cathedral to St Clydwell, is where most of the events will take place. The opening ceremony is just about to begin. The militas form well-drilled squares, lofted pikes glittering in the noonday sun, as the knights on their fearsome chargers ride to their places, hooves clattering on the cobbles. The crowds press in at the sides, though everything is well-mannered and orderly as befits this bastion of Law. Here, standing in the sun on the steps of the Cathedral, offers the best view over the Plaza and of the podium on the far side where the great and the good of the city are sitting: Lord Hulrun Shappok, the Prelate and governor; Nestrin, the Archbishop of St Clydwell's, and his deputy, Eterrius Sunnestier; and there, looking relatively non-descript in her human form, the silver dragon Terendelev, guardian of Kenabres.
Kira takes in the atmosphere with a grin on her face. The festivities remind her of the better parts of her childhood in the city. All the same she cinches her armour a little now and again, and checks her dagger, sword and crossbow. Obviously a little agitated. More than anything though, she keeps an eye onthe atrange looking Mulluq.
Jod cannot help but gawk at the pageantry. He's seen the gathering of the clans, but it is nothing like the parades with their polished armor and equipment.
He notices with a little amusement that, as tight as the crowd is packed, no one seems to be willing to get to close to the 'barbaric' Kellid as he and Rhok wait for the opening ceremony.
"It is pretty impressive, no? I have some hopes for the dragon, myself." Rhok's in a good mood; he's had a few brews already and has won a little coin playing dice with some visiting Numerians.
Nodding, "It is. I wonder how long it takes them to shine all that armor. Looks uncomfortable to me, though - they are all so stiff."
Mulluq'Tar tries to stay as much to the shadows as he can, unconsciously pulling his cloak up over his hideous features. His spade-ended tail sways lightly, maybe even morosely, under the voluminous cloak, as if it had a mind of its own. He was happy for the people, even in his own sadness. He was glad that they were able to find joy in something, despite the terror of living on the doorstep of the Abyss. He couldn't help feeling as if he was to blame for being a part of what they have to fear.
He thinks that he may be able to feel some of that same joy, if he could only do his part to vanquish some of his own corrupt kind, making his existence worth something beyond a taint on Golarion. He looks over at the woman that has stayed close to him after the extensive interviews and investigation. She looks a little bothered, he thinks it is certainly due to him being in her charge, "I'm deeply sorry that my very presence has caused you to be unable to enjoy the festivities to the fullest. It was not my intent to ruin this day for you, and I have only myself to blame. I beg only your forgiveness, in this selfishness of mine in coming here." his eyes bear sympathy, and his word sincerity.
"That does you a credit your outward appearance would contradict. The divinations though have been positive, and nothing in this world is ever quite as it seems. Let's keep out of the way and pass this day as best we can shall we?" Kira's still only half concentrating on the conversation, letting her eye wander over the crowd with the rest of her mind.
By the time she gets to the square Hannik realizes the ceremony is close to starting but she can't see a damned thing from the plaza. It takes a little determination, but she manages to work her way to the top of the Cathedral stairs in a few minutes and cranes her neck looking to see if the younger brothers and sister from her adoptive family have arrived. Her pack is heavy with the candied apples and other sweets vendors have on offer for the celebration. Since moving out of her parents' place it has been too long since she has had time to see them, but with schools out for the festival and the library closed it was a perfect opportunity.
Rather than friends or family the first familiar face Hannik lays eyes on from her new vantage point is Hulrun Shappok. She scowls and looks away. "Why can't that old buzzard just die already?" she mutters to herself.
When the oversized cloaked frame ahead of her leans in to speak to the woman next to him he blocks her view and she calls out, "Hey buddy, some of us are trying to see here!" Before noticing his tail darting around below her. When his head turns and she catches sight of his horns within the cloak all she has to offer is a subdued, "Whoah."
Jod pokes his cousin in the ribs and gestures with his head over to their right, "Look at the big fella. What d'ya suppose he's hiding in that cloak? Nobody seems to want to stand very close to him, either. Maybe he's another Bearpelt warrior."
The unusual sight out of mind, he looks around. They look uncomfortable when they look toward us, but most are avoiding looking this way. I should strike up a conversation, just to see what they do.
That thought is soon out of his head when he notices a girl near the big cloaked man - actually, a pair of girls, but they don't seem to know each other. The first one looks like the girls back home and he feels the first tiny twinge of homesickness. Never been so far from the following. I mean, Rhok's here, so I'm not alone, but there's always been warriors near. Our warriors, I mean. He sighs. Interesting - I wonder what made her pause like that - what did she see? He cranes his neck to see the other girl. I'll be she's from here. She's not looking at the big man, but she's the only one standing close to him - guess he's probably not one of us, then. She seems very serious. Hmm, I think that one's my age, but the local girl is older. After the parade, I will find out. Maybe get slapped, but it's all in fun.
The bored young man continues to scan the crowd for interesting people. Parade could be a lot shorter - they all look the same with their shiny metal suits and awkward blades.
"Who? Nah. Everybody loves a Bearpelt warrior. If they don't, Mighty Kuldor will beat the tar outta them before dragging them through camp behind his rhinoceros." Rhok's eyes wander over to Prelate Hulrun, the city ruler. "My nemesis..." he mutters to himself.
Mulluq semi prostrates himself at the woman's mention of him being in the way, "Please accept my humblest of apologies, I was not aware I was in anyone's way. I am an ignorant fool to not have thought of others thusly. Allow me to step away from the festivities, as no one wants to lay eyes on my hideous visage when there is so much beauty to see amongst the celebrants and festivities." The tail curls up under the cloak, and he backs further away from the events, tugging at his cloak in hopes of pulling it more over himself.
Kira sighs, as though this has happened before. "Mulluq, if you keep that up we'll attract even more attention. You have as much right to a place to stand and look as anyone else. We can stand here, and you new friend can stand beside us." Turning to the girl, Kira says "My name is Kira, this is Mulluq'Tar Sheptat. Are you enjoying the festivities?"
Jod pokes Rhok in the ribs again. "Did you see that? That girl just startled the big fella and he dropped to the ground. Oh, hey! Over there - isn't that the blonde we saw yesterday? I had no idea she was a warrior - but she sure looks natural in that armor. Do you think she's a paladin, too? That's probably why she wouldn't talk to me..."
"It's a good thing I'm wearing armour, the way you swing those elbows. Maybe the cloak-wearer is some kind of spastic? Perhaps touching him makes his nerves act up, making him fall over? If he is, the paladin's probably his sister or something like that, escorting her enfeebled brother when he makes his rare public appearances."
"Of course, I could be wrong. Nothing makes any sense in this damned town."
Squinting, "Nah, the paladin I saw is over there. The big fella and the two girls are over there. Just give it some time - you don't know the people here, they don't know you. It's like when we show up at meet with the Greattusk and no one knows where to sit. Until Mighty Kuldor says, of course. Who is the Mighty Kuldor of this city, I wonder?"
Looking over at the trio that caught his eye earlier, he wonders aloud, "I wonder if he's ... what was it you said? No harm in going to watch the parade from there, right?"
"The man formally in charge here is the old man on the podium, Lord Hulrun. Though I suspect that when the dragon tells him to jump, he asks how high. We mortals always defer to immortal powers like that if we know what's good for us."
Frowning, "Dragon? Don't dragons breathe fire and eat children? Why would the paladins follow a dragon?" He looks around. "Is it close?"
When the horned guy begins his overblown apology Hannik looks uncertain whether he is being sarcastic or sincere then finally making up her mind, laughs. "Listen- I don't know how the hell you found your way to this city of all places, but if you're going to walk around looking like that you better toughen up and stop apologizing for every little thing. Carry on like that and you'll be apologizing for blocking the sun on the guy piling wood around the stake where they'll burn you." Somewhere in the middle of that she face goes from a joking smile to hard and possibly concerned.
"Nice to meet you Kira. You got the right idea." She jostles her way to stand beside her. As far as enjoying the festivities, "Nah. Same thing every year more or less. Good to have a free day though and you should get one of the spicy turkey legs if you haven't tried them."
"He wont be burning any time soon. Unless he starts the fire himself! The church of Iomedae deems him safe. Mostly. I've tried the turkey legs many times, this is where I grew up, although I've been away for a few years. You sound like you grew up here too?"
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"Maybe the cloak-wearer is some kind of spastic?
Jod is paying little attention to the parade or the trio in the crowd as he cranes his neck looking for the dragon.
"You see the woman in the dais? She's a dragon, and a incredibly powerful one, too. So be nice to her if you run across her later."
A young woman with short dark hair, some sort of adventurer dressed in leather armour, leans on a pillar and watches proceedings with an inscrutable expression. She seems to be alone, her arms folded, wrapped up in her thoughts. Near her a young couple watch the massed ranks of soldiers and chat excitedly with their young son, perched on his father's shoulders, pointing out the pennants of the different crusader orders.
An elderly street performer dressed in motley capers about and, surprisingly nimble for his age, cartwheels and throws handstands on the cathedral steps before doffing his cap to catch any coins that might be thrown his way. A thick-set, jowly man of middle years in the heavy, fur-trimmed robes of a rich merchant or minor nobleman throws a silver in his general vicinity before returning to his business negotiation. His counterpart, a tall, angular pinch-faced man dressed similarly, squints down at him disapprovingly over pebble glasses perched on his nose.
Lurking in the shadows of the portico is a slender figure. His hood is pulled up but a strand of long blond hair hangs free in the breeze before being brushed back by a long, pale hand. The robes are those of a wizard but a crusader medal is emblazoned on his chest. His head turns almost imperceptibly and nods courteously at Hannik. He then looks at a group of laughing teenaged boys who arrive noisily near the back and begin craning for a view.
The chilly northern sun has reached its zenith, or at least as high as it gets here in Mendev at this time of year. There is a blare of trumpets, and Prelate Hulrun gets to his feet.
Mulluq just shakes his head as one would at an innocent child, "Lady Valerious, though I appreciate your sentiment, I do not share your belief. Yes, the church of the most righteous Inheritor has deemed me safe to walk around this fair city, but I still am possessed of the flesh and soul of demonkind. I make every effort to keep the taint of hatred and corruption from my actions and thoughts, but I am kin to demon nonetheless. If the fair citizens of this city, standing on the brink of the Abyss to struggle constantly at keeping evil at bay, were to decide that I must burn for the very affront to mankind that I represent, then so I must. Although, I would suggest a different course of destruction, as my very flesh rarely feels the lick of flames."
Turning to the newcomer, "Young lady, if my shadow is what prevents that which is good and holy from being carried out, then yes, I would apologize for my continued cursed existence preventing it thus. Nonetheless, I am pleased to make your acquaintance, yet I apologize that I did not manage to catch your name. I would be so humble if you saw fit to bless me with it so that I may address you properly as one in my rather lowly station should."
"You see the woman in the dais? She's a dragon, and a incredibly powerful one, too. So be nice to her if you run across her later."
"Really? She doesn't look like a powerful dragon. I mean, if she's a dragon..." He stares at her and then starts studying those standing around him more closely. Whispering, "How do you know if you are looking at a dragon, then? Where are her wings and the smoke from her nostrils? Everyone knows they have wings and breathe fire! Right?"
The sound of the trumpets yanks his attention from the conundrum before his cousin can respond. "Oh! Is this it?"
"He rambles on a lot like this. I'm trying to help, but there's only so much I can do." Kira shrugs.
You sound like you grew up here too?"
"Sure. Far back as I remember anyway."
Nonetheless, I am pleased to make your acquaintance, yet I apologize that I did not manage to catch your name.
"Hannik. Well Mulluq, if you change your mind and decide to go full demon maybe wait till tomorrow before you call down the hellfire. I was looking forward to relaxing a little today."
"Hello Hannik. It's nice to meet you."
Well Mulluq, if you change your mind and decide to go full demon maybe wait till tomorrow before you call down the hellfire."
The hooded figure materialises besides Hannik. "It isn't fitting to joke about such things, so close to the Worldwound. Too many people have had direct experience of the Abyss and its horrors," he says in a melodious voice. This close to, his elven nature is clear from the large pale almond eyes and pointed ears. "Though, of course, not of Hellfire, as such. I have seen you, have I not, at the Blackwing? I am Aravashnial."
He then notices Mulluq and blinks in surprise. "And who are you?" he adds, somewhat coldly.
Meanwhile, the two merchants are haggling aggressively. The tall skinny one snaps, "Horgus, your terms are completely unreasonable! I would take a loss on every sale!"
"Nonsense!" growls the stocky one gruffly, "Your prices are outrageous. You are simply trying to profiteer. We are at war here! These supplies will help the crusader effort to hold the line here."
"At war?" sniffs the other, waving his hand at the massed soldiers. "Looks more like a parade than a crusade. I'd be more impressed if Kenabres had spent less effort burning its own citizens and more in driving back the demonic tide over there," he adds pointing vaguely to the east.
The dark haired woman watches them both with detached amusement.
"Hmm, a warrior with his own keeper, I notice. You are an inquisitor of the Church, by the looks of you, one of our Lord Hulrun's pets. I'm surprised you aren't adopting a more questioning attitude yourself, "questioning" being that which you and your ilk are the most skilled."
The elf effects disinterest in Kira and turns to Mulluq. "Mulluq'Tar Sheptat? The name is, what, Osirian? Katapeshi? You are a long way from home - what brings you to the chilly wastes of Mendev?"
"What I am is none of your business. But you are not answering the questions I do ask. Who are you to question us?"
"A citizen of Kenabres interested in its safety, and that of good people in the region," replies Aravashnial drily. "And how typical of your kind - you demand answers while refusing scrutiny yourself. People like you are too quick to defend your prerogatives while sitting safe behind stone walls. More willingness to face demons in the Worldwound rather than rooting out supposed cultists at home, and the result of the last crusade might have been somewhat different." He shrugs, and adds grudgingly. "But I suppose you are too young to have been involved in that extended fiasco, even if one of its main architects addresses us all from the podium," and he inclines his head towards the stage where Lord Hulrun has begun to speak.
"I demand? You interrupted our conversation to demand answers." Kira mutters under breath, turning to listen to the ceremony, and pointedly ignoring any response the elf may have.
When the young woman introduces herself, Mulluq offers a formal bow, "It is truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Hannik." his eyes take on a sad expression, "I do not ever wish to go 'full demon' as you put it. I do everything within my power daily to lead toward the exact opposite. I wish I could only purge the blood of demons from my veins."
Mulluq steps protectively in front of Kira when the man appears, but relaxes slightly when he speaks. He is about to answer the question of his name, but once again the young woman answers for him, so he tries to at least diffuse the situation. "Lady Valerious is correct, Master Aravashnial, I am known as Mulluq'Tar. I would never jest about demonic presence or hellfires, as I do not find the threat of unwavering evil to be a source of humor."
He puts up a clawed and scaly black hand to signal pause, as the two sound to be getting heated at one another, "I do not find the interruption bothersome, I expect that my very presence can bring question to many in the area. As it was, we were making small talk and introductions. My name is in fact Osiriani, it was where I was found and raised. My mentor, Brother Malthus, Iomedae bless him and keep him, named me. I came here after his passing, hoping to erase at least a portion of the blight caused by my very existence by fighting to vanquish fellow demons from this world in Iomedae's name. Maybe then I can offer value to this world, instead of detracting from it."
I have seen you, have I not, at the Blackwing? I am Aravashnial."
"That's right. I work security there to some degree. Really my partner does most of the work while I use the library, but..." she shrugs, "they don't seem to mind."
"You are an inquisitor of the Church, by the looks of you, one of our Lord Hulrun's pets."
Hannik goes stiff at those words and turns to reappraise Kira.
"Damn it. You work for the buzzard?! Mulluq, seriously you should consider moving on from Kenabres. The Inquisitors here don't tends to find too many people innocent and the fact that you have one trailing you means that whatever they might say, you are on their list. Watch your step, enjoy the parade and get the hell out of this town. That's my advice. Take it for what its worth."
Aravashnial nods to Mulluq. "A tiefling, then? You are not the only one here, though most others are from Cheliax and have a different, ah, ancestry and philosophical bent. No wonder you make the authorities nervous," he says, flicking a look at Kira.
Turning to Hannik, "Partner, you say? Who is that?"
Mulluq shakes his head in disagreement, "Lady Valerious is not trailing me. She is keeping watch over me. As I understand it, the church is not quite yet comfortable with me, which I fully understand. Lady Valerious is here to ensure that my nature does not take over a cause problems her ewithin the city. I do not intend on leaving, and am here to fight and or die for the cause, even if it is at the decision of the church in removing me from the place."
Jod's interest in the speeches wanes quickly and he resumes studying the others in the crowds. He takes in the performer and the merchants. Eventually his eyes return to the three, no, now there are four, that he was looking at earlier.
Rhok feels him tense up, but the normally chatty young man doesn't say anything. Who - or what - is that?
Turning to Hannik, "Partner, you say? Who is that?"
"Eh- you wouldn't have met Ghroth. Tall guy, olive skin. Only turns up once the place shuts down."
Kira simply sighs as Mulluq tells a total stranger (and an obnoxious one to boot) her life story for her.
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A squat young man with straw-colored hair slips easily through the gaps in the crowd. His interstitial travel leaving no ripple or wake in the ebb and flow of the people. He glances left and right with an affected casualness, but the observant or attentive can see that he's looking for something or someone. His gaze barely grazes the costumed knights but lingers long on anyone wearing authentic armor before moving on. His clothes are plain, raw wool breaches and leather shirt topped by with a drab, leather cloak, much-stained.
Moving through the crowd he marks the foreigners from the north and their gear. Maybe them. I might try. Likely they could use a local guide. But if I can find her....
He drifts on before before spotting two women in scale and studded leather. Ohh?! Is it? Hope fades from his face as he realizes the two women aren't his quarry. Hard to tell with them and their companions. What manner of man is -- OH! He turns away and continues to search the crowd.
He's rewarded when his gaze drifts along the colonnade on one side of the square. There she is! I mean that must be her. He drifts to the left so that he can approach her obliquely and begins skipping from void to small void in the crowd. Occasionally he looks back toward the foreign strangers. Always good to have a backup.
The blond youth makes for the dark-haired woman by the pillar. As he approaches she says, "Hello, Sol. Come to watch the crusaders at play? Or come to ask me about a job? I told you, you need to talk to Irabeth. She's the actual member of the Eagle Watch."
As she speaks there is a sudden loud clap of thunder out of the clear blue sky. Lord Hulrun pauses in his speech. A few of the crusaders' horses snort and toss their heads skittishly, while the crowd murmurs uneasily.
Jod scans the sky, trying to determine where the thunder came from. "Heard that on the steppes, but today doesn't feel like one of those days. Does it?" He directs the question at his cousin, of course.
"Thunder from a clear sky. That doesn't bode well Malluq."