Forgotten Realms:
Angels and Demons
Part XXX
Hours later, with the sun setting, Altamar began to return something like normal. People began to dig out of the rubble, with cleaning out the mess a priority. In days rebuilding would begin, with Lord Wallace aiding in the efforts. The other nobles, whose properties had been protected, for the most part, were asked to chip in as well. At first there was some push back, but the surprise visit by the Tyranfal delegation changed that. Lady Byron was at the lead, ahead waves of nobles bringing wagons of supplies.
Seeing her example, the nobles soon found themselves vigorously donating to the rebuilding. That left Lord Wallace room to work on rebuilding Altamar's losses. More soldiers and guards had to be trained, taking up the arms of those who had been lost. It also left him with enough room for a project, one that he hoped would help keep his people inspired. Then there was the matter of the miracle that had happened recently.
"So, explain to me about this fighter," Lord Wallace told his captain.
Captain Reynolds told what he knew, "Apparently he was part of the harassing parties."
"Those we lost when the Orcs wised up," Lord Wallace interjected.
The captain nodded, "Yes, that is correct. While his friend looked over the fallen wizard, he helped maintain our defenses. Running from battle to battle, he fought harder than any man on the battlefield. Some even made jokes that he had demon blood in him, or divine, like our monk friend."
"When was he wounded?" Lord Wallace asked.
Captain Reynolds paused, thinking, before he answered, "We know not, my lord. After he fell, the healers removed all his armor in pieces. It looks like the only thing holding him and the armor together was pure force of will. They lost count of the number of wounds he had received."
"He lived long enough to retrieve a resurrection rod?" Lord Wallace stopped and looked at his city.
The captain agreed, "Yes, and already we have a complaint from a shopkeeper about it being stolen. However, with the attack, my guards aren't going to find out what happened any time soon."
"That's okay, keep them on giving aid to those in need," Lord Wallace said. "Do make a small donation to the shop for their service during these trying times."
"Will do, sir," Captain Reynolds smiled as they both started moving again. They had much more work to do before either of them could rest.
At the same time, a lone Tiefling was stretching her legs. Thankfully and maybe just a bit irritatingly, Kirann was on the mend. The way he healed; she'd be surprised if he wasn't doing backflips by dinner. She on the other hand still felt like she'd been pulverized paste. There wasn't a place or joint that didn't hurt, even her horns ached. Raven at least wasn't worried about being seen.
Even though many people kept their distance still, none looked at her with outright hostility. It could be because she faced down a devil, which she was still wrapping her head around, or extended respect given to all the Challengers. She wasn't going complain and was willing to take any change to public opinion. Now that her glamour was gone, there was nothing to hide behind.
In front of her a portal opened, disgorging Bruce Robertson and a woman carrying a lute. The court wizard waved at Raven and signaled for his guest to follow him. The ex-warlock decided curiosity trumped weariness. She went to meet them, feeling better that her borrowed cutlass was still attached to her belt.
"Miss Raven," the wizard beamed, "this is Bastilla Riversong. She is a bard of well renown."
The bard interrupted, "No offense my dear wizard, but she looks confused. This lovely guy right here said you were looking for a teacher, someone to show you the ropes."
"I don't know.." Raven started to protest, but she was cut off.
Bruce chuckled, "Kirann said you had potential as a bard, something about the voice of the wind on a summer's day, carrying the scent of revivification on it. Well not in so many words, our dear friend is most Spartan in his speech."
"I think I'm going to kill him," Raven sighed.
Bastilla smiled, "I've traveled all this way, why don't you sing a bar for me? The wizard here seems to think you are a natural."
"She is!" Bruce exclaimed. "Our mutual monk friend is pretty good at seeing beyond to the truth of the matter."
Raven looked like she wanted to run. In fact, she had three distinct paths to flee already in her mind. Something though made her stay. A memory of standing against death, letting her voice rise and a feeling of power with it. She had just blamed it on Kirann's remarkable resurgence, but now she wondered. Had there been more going on than she realized?
"Listen, I know it's terrifying to perform in front of an audience like this, impromptu," the bard gently said, her voice full of soothing grace. "How about we go find a quiet place, where you'll feel a little less vulnerable."
Without realizing he was being led away, Raven soon found herself heading towards walls of Altamar. The wizard, Bruce Robertson disappeared into a flash of light. That left the two women to meander around, till they found a nice quiet spot. Checking around, Bastilla sat, and pulled her lute around to play.
She warmed up her hands, checked the tuning on her instrument and played a few bars. Raven instantly knew the song; it was a well-known tavern song. The words were there, and she at first softly began to sing. Then as she focused on the playing, something inside let go and out came the words like a lovely torrent of renewing energy.
Before she knew it, her voice echoed off the alleys and walls. Which is when she snapped back to the present, feeling increasingly aware of how loud her voice was. Sheepishly she stopped and tried to hide her face. Facing down a devil about to slay her, easy. The thought of someone hearing her sing to the top of her lungs, extremely frightening.
Bastilla sat for a moment stunned before she could speak, "Your friend, this monk, what he told the wizard was right. You do have a gift. I bet every person in a five block radius just became rejuvenated."
"Are you sure?" Raven said, not sure she had heard the other woman right.
The bard got up and put her hands on Raven's face, "Yes, I feel like I could play concerts for the next three days without sleep. There is something in your nature, that would be wasted if you didn't learn the bardic arts. I must teach you.
That also means I owe that wizard a dinner. I do hope he's not one of those that is smug when right. So, what do you say, are you willing to learn from me?"
"Yes!" Raven said, more eager than she had let on. What a strange journey this thing called life was turning out to be.
That was life for the next few months. Kirann trained, helped out with keeping the peace and generally did his thing. Raven studied under Bastilla to become an exceptional bard. Val volunteered with the children, helping them cope with the damage done to Altamar. Lorinda tended to the trampled grounds around the city, helping it recover from the Orcs. Leilani kept a low profile, while learning more about her power with the court wizard of Altamar. Walton continued to heal, but a broken spirit was not an easy thing to mend.
Angelique hadn't left the former paladin's side, even as he had fallen further into drunken stupor. He still practiced the martial side of his training, but no prayers went up to Tyr, nor did any powers be granted to him. Through it all, the priestess kept her word, and wouldn't leave him. Part of it was her duty, the majority was because he was broken, and she cared about mending him.
What she saw, what his friends saw, Walton couldn't. They saw a good man, with a good heart, a champion of justice. What he saw was a murderer, someone that had slain numerous allies. Even as he knew he had been tricked, that the Pied Piper's magic had been behind it, he had done the deeds. It was his blade that had ended many lives, people who had depended on him to help protect the city. This was a guilt he couldn't get rid of, nor did he want to just be absolved. As a champion of justice, that wasn't his way.
So, it came to be that eventually Walton demanded to be judged by the courts for his crimes. By that time some of the other soldiers and guards had learned of what he had done, and quite a few wanted him executed. Lord Wallace had come to the conclusion that the only way to keep order was to put the paladin on trial.
It lasted for many weeks, with witnesses being called from the guards, and other defenders. The most damning testimony of course came from Walton's own mouth, as he admitted to the killings. Luckily Kirann and Raven were there for his defense. They countered the challenge to his culpability, by pointing out the effect the Pied Piper's instrument had on the paladin.
Because it was such a high profile trial, Lord Wallace sat in judgement. It was hard, because he knew the good man that Walton was. Yet, he also knew the need for his people to have justice, for any betrayal to be repaid in the most severe manners. Even if most of his people called for mercy, correctly stating that Walton wouldn't have done this in his right mind.
The wounds reopened by the trial would be painful, ultimately healing, as law became sutures to the injury. Lord Wallace though could not see justice in putting Walton to death. A good man like this was better suited doing the works of his god, Tyr, than meeting him in the Heavens. Maybe one day, he'd even regain his connection to the god, and his paladin powers.
"Rise Walton, and let Tyr hear my judgement," Lord Wallace called out across the courtroom. "I find you not guilty of murder, by reason of insanity. As such mortal laws are not sufficient, but rather we must look to the Heavens for guidance. A stain still resides on your soul, a judgement of your own making. To cleanse this, I sentence you to service, to the City of Altamar, to Tyranfal and Wyverns Rest. For no more than ten years of service to we of the Alliance, you will work for our interests. As your band of heroes has shown themselves champions of our region, any work you do with them will count towards the service owed us of the Alliance.
Once completed, your ten years of labor, all crimes mortal and spiritual shall be cleansed. If this pleases the Lord of Justice, let him make his will known now!"
As if on cue, the Maimed Lord lit his insignia aglow on all the clerics and paladins in attendance. A hush fell over the crowd, and Walton hung his head in acceptance of his judgement. Justice had been dealt, and even those calling for Walton's execution, fell silent. Lord Wallace ended the proceedings and left for the castle.
Beside him walked his court wizard, "Good job on that spell, Bruce."
The wizard looked confused, "Lord Wallace, I didn't do that. You called upon Tyr and he answered."
"You're sure?" Lord Wallace looked curiously at the wizard. "I've never seen you so quick to proclaim a miracle. Normally that is the priests' job."
Bruce laughed, "I am many things, and have been called many things. However, I wouldn't deny what I see with my own eyes, nor what my spells tell me. The power that provided that glow was divine in origin. It was different than anything I've seen our monk friend use, though I wouldn't put it past any of the clerics or other paladins."
"It doesn't matter," Lord Wallace said. "That young man shouldn't have to pay for an evil man's deeds, but he can not live with what he has done. This way maybe he'll find the will to continue on, and do some good while he's at it."
The court wizard couldn't argue that point, so he followed his lord back to the throne room. There was still much to do, even as the city had continued to rebuild. Things were moving faster than even their most promising estimates foretold. Direction and decisions still had to be made. Worse than making those decisions, was reminding Lord Wallace that was still indeed human. That he still needed the rest and that his city would continue on.
As their time of rest was close to coming to an end, the Challengers found Lord Wallace had another surprise in store for them. Growing in her skills, Raven had begun to perform in the taverns around the city. She made quite a bit of gold, as those coming to listen were quick with coins for tips. It had been good for her, but when Kirann told her that Lord Wallace was requesting them all, she became very intrigued.
What the crowds coming to hear her sing and play didn't realize, her bardic magic had increased very quickly. Her previous experience as a warlock made some of the spells come more naturally to her, as she was used to channeling magical energy through her body. Though just starting, she felt ready to go out into the world. Thanks to Bastilla her sword skills had increased as well.
The bard had taught her how to use the fine fencing weapon, the rapier. Soon she was almost as good with it, as she was with her cutlass. All in all, Bastilla looked on her with respect. Raven soon realized why her trainer had stopped coming around as often, and why she had appeared more during her nightly performances.
"Little Raven," Bastilla said. "I have trained you as far as I can, and frankly you're cutting into my purse here."
"You're leaving?!" Raven asked, realizing how she sounded too late.
Bastilla smiled, "Yes, my little dark bird. You no longer need me. You must continue your training out on the road, and that my dear is where you are really mean to be. I can see it in your eyes, as you look at the newly repaired gate. You long to be out there, and don't deny it. You and that monk of yours have a wanderlust unmatched by any adventurer I've ever seen."
"How can I ever thank you?" Raven asked. Bastilla was one of the few people she could show this much vulnerability to, without feeling horrible.
Bastilla nearly shouted, "Bring back great stories! As a bard, you'll see things, do things and bring it back to the masses. Yours is the destiny of enshrining heroes with immortality beyond imagination. I see you one day being the best of us, and one day I'll get to say I trained you. Best of all, I can see you out pacing me, and I'll be glad to call you friend."
Raven shocked her former teacher with a quick hug, "Thank you, Bastilla."
"You're welcome," the other bard appreciated the trust Raven was showing her.
Later that day, Raven joined the rest of her adventuring group at the gate they had entered oh so long ago. Altamar was almost completely repaired, but what drew her attention was a large object covered. It sat facing the gate, with pathways diverging around it. Easily larger than the gate, whatever laid under the cover was monumental. She looked at Kirann, but he shrugged, not sure what it was either.
Leilani stood with her mask off, letting her Drow heritage display to all. Just like with Raven, the people of Altamar had seen her fighting for them and had sort of accepted her as one of them. She still felt exposed, yet knew she needed to do this. Not so much for the people to see her, but rather for her. She didn't want to hide, didn't want to skulk in the shadows.
Lord Wallace came up and gave a speech to the crowd. It wasn't long, but it was enough for the people to chant in pride. Throughout all the violence and rebuilding, all they had endured, the people of Altamar had bounced back. Their fine city was once again whole because they had come together. Yet, every generation needed their heroes, and that was what he had brought them there to celebrate.
With a quick flick, he pulled on the line raising the covering up. What was revealed was a grand monument of six figures, together and ready to defend the city at all costs. Below them was a granite base, with each of their faces chiseled stylized, with information about each chiseled into the base.
In the front was Val, her twin blades ready to strike. To her left was Walton, his two-handed sword at the ready. To her right was Raven, sword pointed like she was going to release and Eldritch Blast. Behind Val was Kirann in his attack stance, a sun glowing behind him. Leilani and Lorinda took the outer edges, both in states of casting. From Leilani's outstretched hand, a fireball erupted. Meanwhile Lorinda's staff blade crackled with lightning, raised up into the air.
The statues filled the crowd with awe, and the collected Challengers were without words. Whomever the artist was, had gotten their visages eerily accurate. What added to the masterpiece feeling, were the stylized faces on the base, below the main statues. Each one unique for the Challenger it represented. Kirann's was a profile of his face, set in front of a blazing sun. Leilani and Raven's were front views, but each face was divided into two. For Raven, her beautiful human face was jaggedly attached to her gorgeous Tiefling face. Behind her were raised books, showing her love of learning. Leilani's bust was a straight line, her Elf and Drow face seeming to share a knowing smirk. Behind her bust was a grand pyre of fire, burning bright.
For Lorinda, a moon and lightning bolt famed her face, which looked up to the sky. Val's had her mischievous grin replicated, with two daggers and two swords above and below her face bust. Finally, Walton's face was sad, lined with weariness but illuminated by a bright light behind him. A holy warrior aged by conflict before his time, and truer than even Walton would have admitted.
What came next continued the surprises for the Challengers. The DuValls came forward, carrying six medals. Each one was cast in gold, about the size of a fist and intricately detailed. The names of each Challenger were engraved in them, and the DuValls waited for Lord Wallace to speak before they handed them out.
"To those gathered here today," Lord Wallace started. "You all know the heroes who stood with us against the Evil arrayed against us. These people have sacrificed much to defender our region, and have suffered more than an of us will ever truly appreciate. After the battle the continued to help, bringing relief when they could have disappeared.
These people are friends of this city, of this region and to all who are in need. It is with great pleasure that I announce their formal induction as not only allies of Altamar, but grant them the noble titles and knighthoods as permissible. I am also grateful to be able to stand before you, dedicating this statue in their honor. Join me in letting our champions hear our appreciation!"
As the crowd shouted out giant cheers, the DuValls handed out the medals. Before each Challenger, thanks were given, while the recipient graciously handled the attention. Most of the Challengers felt out of their comfort zones, but stood out of respect for those gathered. Once all the medals were given out, the crowed incredibly cheered even louder. How, none of the gathered knew, but that it happened was not in doubt.
Afterwards a grand feast was brought forth, with everyone eating well. They still had time before harvest, and this was a great thing to celebrate. The city was battered, not broken, and re-forged better than ever. The celebrations would go on far into the night, with the main guests finding a way to excuse themselves as the night became morning.
As they were leaving, Lord Wallace stopped Kirann, "Do not worry about he DuValls. I've given them jobs working around the castle, they will not want for anything. Already their skills have been quite useful in the rebuilding."
"It is good that they have a place, and that they will be safe," Kirann replied.
"What are your plans now?" Lord Wallace asked.
Kirann looked out to the horizon, "I feel we are needed out there. Our path lays out there."
"You'll always have a home here," Lord Wallace reminded him. "Altamar is a friend, and we will not forget you."
The monk smiled and followed his party back to their rooms. The party eventually ended, and the sun rose. A new day dawned; new adventures were to be had. With it new challenges lay out there, and so did two beings who had betrayed their friends. One knowingly, the other a pasty to be used.
As the sun rose on them, they felt fear. Out there their former friends still lived, and the thought of revenge was ever present on their minds. When would their party come back for their heads, when would they strike? For Manheim, he prepared spells to counteract all manners of attack. Boris constantly slept in his armor, none rested well. All they could do was wait, even as their old friends rested off a job well done.