Chronicles of the Reaper – Chapter 9
She politely declined any baggage assistance from the Paladins stationed within the bustling city, traveling slowly towards her destination with a large leather suitcase slinging over her shoulders.
Smiling inwardly, she realized it was quite difficult standing out from the crowd.
The self-conscious society was altogether well-groomed and regal, prancing along the streets in high-fashion. Ladies and adolescence alike were proudly dressed to flaunt their voluptuous curves, powdering their faces to mask imperfections. Men and boys dressed as formally and crisp at best, even the children were not spared from the dolling up frenzy.
The streets were flooded with people of a multitude variance of colors and style that struck Angel with fancy and intrigue, it was a rather pleasant experience in comparison to the larger but starkly dull and colorless cultures of Amn, Neverwinter, Luskan or Calimshan, where only harlots and several handful of eccentric characters had the nerve to dress and parade themselves as alarmingly provocative.
The weathered brick road spanned about 20 feet wide with two designated lanes for carriages and another lane for pedestrians, and the sun still hung high for people to continue their routine and work and sightseeing. Neatly groomed, wealthy travelers sat patiently on tiny stools, commissioning artists' to immortalize their existence through canvases in the rich backdrop.
Many others enjoyed the local fine wine, further enhancing prolific pleasures of the urban utopia. Ladies sheepishly haggled over the overpriced jewels and fineries, and children mulled about the bumbling, basking bards and jesters. The more adventurous climbed enthusiastically up the circling hill – Vetropol Peak to pay homage to the magnificent Cathedral.
The falling pink blossoms and dancing midday's light illuminated the ever moving crowd, throbbing Angel's seasoned heart in the midst of the rich atmosphere, enjoying the sensation of being totally lost in the sea of people, free of worry and anxiety.
As she slowed down to savor and appreciate the passing moment, her head filled with melodies of sorrow…duly reminding herself of her assignment. She hummed a tune to herself, trying to capture her fleeting emotions… the painful irony when the blood of Ozmattix Wilkinsbane would be spilled in on the grounds of such an elegant city – when she would assassinate the Trade Minister, when a beautiful memory would be tainted with evil.
She lost her smile and replaced her cowl and continued forward, senses emerging deeply in this strangely melodic moment.
She continued on the main road that went around the base of Vetropol Peak where she was told it will lead her directly to her destination.
Across the river, she recalled as she came across a large archway that marked the beginning point of ascension to the very top. The path circled around the towering hill, the gentle climb certainly looked pleasant with trees and memorials planted by the edge along the scaling route, and the path were filled with tourist that simply stood around, enjoying the finer sentiments of Veldyian history.
Without looking ahead, she suddenly felt her shoulders brushing against a coat of fur. The musty smell repelled her slightly as she stepped aside. Looking up to protest, her eyes were caught directly in the sunlight, where the image of a dark towering rider before her, unmoving and still.
"Are you okay, miss?" the voice called out to her dutifully. "It seems you have strayed out to the carriage lane."
"I'm fine…" she brushed her silky amber cloak slightly embarrassed, muttering silently under her breath.
"Might you be looking for something?" the man asked with a flat tone.
"I'm fine, thank you." She stepped aside willingly.
"Do you need to be directed somewhere?" he asked. "That's the least I could do as an apology."
She raised an eyebrow at the mechanical politeness, he somehow sounded quite different from other City Guards, his voice devoid of any ulterior motives. "I'll be fine…" She moved to the side a little more to give way to the entourage. She looked up again and studied the detached, unsmiling battle-ready paladin that rode with a straight perfect posture, slightly soiled up to his greaves, but thought he fitted well into that armor well. His young, strong and sharp feature radiated authority and strength.
She suddenly smiled softly to herself.
"My apologies again, miss," he nod curtly and rode away.
"Pardon me kind Paladin," she called out to Lex and was responded in kind. She kept her smile and lowered her cowl, "Maybe I've changed my mind, could I ask instead for your name?"
"Certainly," Lex nodded, "Sir Lex Remington."
"It's been a pleasure Sir Remington," she bowed and smiled slightly, "Thank you for your courtesy, I'll be well on my way."
"The pleasure is mine," Lex returned her bow and turned away stoically, continuing his journey.
Hmm… Angel mused.
Lex's nerve throbbed, unearthed as his horse lingered at the black gates of the Inquisitorial edifice, terrifyingly sinister and grotesque amidst the mystically enchanted city. Cruel jagged buttresses tore from the stony pavilions, reaching out to the sky like an intense warning against its foes…
The dark side of Veldyia…
Lex took a deep breath as he moved past the barren courtyard of sands and cobblestone, devoid of greens or flowers to greet the band.
He ordered Halifaz to park the carriage the side, intending to allow the Inquisitorial staff's assistance to carry the sleeping man.
"Good afternoon, Sir Lex," a Second Circle Paladin strode up to the young captain. "May I ask what business do you have with the Inquisition?"
"Good afternoon, Sir Dewall," Lex replied, "I'm here to seek council from the Inquisitors, and to report an unusual sighting."
"Oh, indeed," Sir Dewall raised an eyebrow.
"Indeed, and there's this man I found…" Sir Lex proceeded to explain his encounter in the forest.
"How curious," Sir Dewall glanced to where the sleeping man lies, "Then it's best you make haste, I would have the Inquisition check for any abnormalities."
"Very well," Sir Lex bowed, prompting Sir Dewall to do the same, turning and whispering to his aide, "Oh…and there's another thing Sir Dewall," Sir Lex called out with a slight frown.
"Lord Wilkinsbane has made an unusual request," Sir Lex paused for a moment, "He asks should the man be free from any taint, he would be returned the care of the Wilkinsbane's family."
"Hmm…" Sir Dewall understood immediately the frown, "That, unfortunately, would be for the Inquisitors to decide."
"Agreed," Sir Lex nodded.
"My good graces, Sir Lex," Sir Dewall bowed and parted.
As the staff organized the sleeping man's care, Sir Lex hesitantly picked up his feet and walked towards the Chapel.
The damp, imposing halls blasts with the hollow, guttural melody from a massive instrument. A heavily draped, skeletal being sat before the organ, his hands swept through the organ and played strings after strings of maddening tunes, immersing himself in an electric torrent of euphoria.
Lex began to dizzy as a familiar scent snaked up to him. Surreally reminding him of the damp, evil dungeon. The pain and the humiliation inflicted on him resurfaced in his belly.
He clutched his inerasable wound.
As the melody reached to a climatic end, it abruptly stopped… the tune still rang, echoing in the vilifying chapel.
"Welcome!" the Inquisitor drew a deep breath, his voice boomed out of his frail frame, smoldering what was left of Lex's courage.
"Welcome…" Inquisitorial Thirhil stood and extended his arms outwards, and turned to greet Lex.
"It has been too long since I'm graced with your presence…" His boots pounded on dark marble, louder as he reached closer to the paladin…a terrible, carnal chagrin etched on his barky skin, "…young one…" he licked his lips.
"Too long since I was left with memories of out sweet encounter," he walked right up to the Paladin, where Lex reactively took a step back.
"Aww…" the Inquisitor teased, "Haven't you missed me?"
Lex could not find the words.
"Do you find my presence appalling?" the Inquisitor kept his grin.
Lex remained silent.
"HAAHAHA!" The Inquisitor burst into laughter, "What an adorable addition to the guard, your father has raised you well…"
"Too well…perhaps…" the grotesque creature turned to his left, towards a tray where bottles and jars of liquor lay. "Fancy a drink? No? Just as I expect, your father brought you up too well…" He poured brandy into an expensive glass and took a small sip, enjoying the strong, smooth taste.
"Lord Inquisitor," Lex coughed out, "I bring news of an unusual…"
"Tell me, Sir Lex," the Inquisitor ignored his report, interrupting as he looked into Sir Lex's eyes, "Does it trouble you?"
"Milord, that is why I…"
"Apparently, you did not hear me well, paladin," Inquisitor Thirhil smiled still, "Does it trouble you?"
Sir Lex's palms began to sweat.
"The day is darker than usual, and people seem more distant….and unfamiliar. For every moment of peace, comes the day the usual course falls apart." The Inquisitor said, "Are you troubled, Sir Lex?"
"Y…yes…" Sir Lex felt he could no longer hide his confusion, he could feel the Inquisitor probing his mind, reading his every thought.
"A stranger comes…I know," the Inquisitor turned away and walked towards the window, "And you crave for an answer, to fulfill your holy duties…"
"Lord Inquisitor…"
"Tell me, Sir Lex…" he took another sip, "Have you been thinking of the question I've asked of you?"
Sir Lex was immediately brought back to the dungeon - On whose lives do you choose to dispense mercy?
"When the day comes, young one… can you decide? Knowing when the fate of all hangs by your decision?" the Inquisitor held up a vial, shaking it to draw Lex's attention. "Think about it…"
"Nevertheless," he raised an eyebrow, "Know that the boy is far from being a threat, Sir Lex."
Ho…how does he know? Sir Lex became increasing perplexed; he had not even lay eyes on the man yet.
"Curious as you are, Sir Lex, there are things that are beyond your comprehension…" The Inquisitor chuckled.
A distinct eagle scream wailed across the sky.
"Events are moving, if you recognize that sound," he glanced toward the young paladin, tossing the vial towards Sir Lex. "Inform Sir Dewall that I've granted you the permission to do as you see fit.
Feed the boy the fluid when you have him in comfort." The Inquisitor waved Sir Lex away, "…and as much as I'd like to indulge you further… realize that we are on an alert.
Return to the Wilkinsbane Manor," he turned away, "They would need you."