"This is a tough land, inhabited by tough people. To such folk, a bit of softness can mean all the world." - Soividia Ustav, founder and first King of Ustalav
11th Lamashan, 4271 AR
Noviste, County of Barstoi, Ustalav
When the tyrannical Count Aericnein Neska of Barstoi was overthrown by an angry, repressed populace twenty-five years ago, his place was taken by the noble who had led the rebellion; Boyar Hyacinthia Irinushka of Magdova. Not long after taking power, Hyacinthia married the druzhina who had been her chief Captain, Count Aericnein's own nephew. The druzhina threw off his old name, becoming Count Artyov Irinushka. The county capital of "Vische" was renamed to "Noviste", and while the luxury available to the ruling nobility had diminished since, it had gone to much better causes.
About nine months after the successful revolt, the Countess and Count had a child who would go on to serve Pharasma in the Worldwound and join a group of adventuring heroes.
And now, years after hearing those tales from Violetta, Tem was gazing firsthand upon the spot of their origin.
Temperance looked at the city upon its high hill as the river barge he and his companions rode upon floated in. Barstoi was a land of crags and hills, unforgiving when it came to agriculture, but home to mines that produced more salt than anywhere else in the Inner Sea Region. Noviste's outer wall extended down to the river, constantly patrolled by soldiers in Irinushka livery of black and dusky violet, each soldier carrying a bardiche and a crossbow.
From the harbor to Novste's original wall, New Town spread up the slope of Noviste's hill, not quite a shantytown, but it certainly was no noble quarter. Traders, boat crews, travelers, and those who catered to those three groups were the most common denizens of New Town.
Beyond the old wall, Noviste was a collection of gothic spires and narrow streets, centered upon Prybylski Hall, which was the palace of the ruling family, and the Temple of Pharasma. Though there was no national religion in the Immortal Principality of Ustalav, Pharasma's worship was by far and away the most common. After six centuries of being ruled by Lich-King Tar-Baphon, it was only natural Ustalav's people would gravitate toward the Lady of Graves, who despised undead above all other things.
The boat pulled up to the dock, its crew tying it off. Temperance and his friends stepped off onto the landing. The tiefling's armor had not only been mended by dwarven smiths, but scoured of accumulated grime as well. It did not shine in the sunlight, it still bore superficial scrapes and dings across its surface, but Tem preferred that those remained. Around them, the docks were incredibly busy with people coming to celebrate the festivities of the Grand Tourney of Ustalav, which celebrated the nation's founding many centuries ago. Even dingy New Town was strung up with colorful pennants and populated by street performers, newly arisen vendor stalls, and people from all across the Inner Sea Region.
"Alright." Asaf said, apparently glad to have his feet on solid ground again. "I am going to find the nicest inn in this city, get a room and a bath, and if I can help it, not leave that bath until it's time to leave Noviste."
"I am going to find the nearest house of healing and see if I can be of any aid there." Scaelia said. The left side of her face was mostly healed, though a few square inches of her cheek remained a wrinkled scar from the acid burns dealt by Vesperex.
"House of healing? Scaelia, you need to give yourself a rest after all we've been through recently." Asaf cautioned.
"It won't be a great effort to expend the blessing of Sarenrae alleviating the sick and injured that I am able to." Scaelia dismissed Asaf's advice, but then looked over at the aasimar with a sigh and said, "I promise I'll take it easy afterward. But you have to buy me a drink like you promised."
"When did I promise that?" Asaf asked, confused.
"How can you not remember?" Scaelia asked, incredulous, but then walked off into the city before giving an actual answer. Dhrak went with her.
It was Asaf's turn to sigh. "That woman is going to be the death of me." He grumbled, clapping Tem on the shoulder and saying, "best of luck to you, Sir Templar." With a mischievous wink, the aasimar went on his way.
"Well, Tem. What say we pay a visit to our friend in the castle, eh?" Dergir suggested, the idea of having such a friend making Dergir snort with laughter.
"Aye. Aye, let's go do that." Temperance said, feeling his stomach tie itself in knots even more than it had been moments ago.
"I don't suppose telling you to be at peace for the hundredth time will help much." Arashi said.
"It would not." Tem confirmed.
The three former Crusaders began the uphill walk. Though Tar-Baphon's occupation of the Isle of Terror had made Lake Encarthan more dangerous, the large lake that was Ustalav's main access to the south was still relatively safe if one stuck to the coasts. Countless rivers and overland routes, including those through a newly somewhat safe Belkzen, meant people from as far as Cheliax and Taldor were easy to see. Though fewer, there were Keleshite and Vudrani people, too. One could see the expected dwarves, halflings, gnomes, and elves, but there were less common races, too; orcs and half-orcs, a troupe of azarketi, hobgoblin merchant guards, a strix courier. Temperance even saw a family of tieflings selling freshly baked bread.
At the gates leading into the Old City, they were stopped by guards who were on duty to prevent smugglers that were no doubt converging on the city.
"Names?" A sergeant asked.
Temperance gave them.
The sergeant blinked a couple of times. "Say again?"
"Uh…Temperance Tasgal, Dergir Haridsson, and Hida Arashi." Tem repeated.
The sergeant turned to the nearest soldier and said, "matches Her Ladyship's stories, too." The sergeant stepped aside, "the Hallow-Horn, the Forge-Fury, and the Lightbringer will always be welcome in Noviste. We're honored to have you."
"Oh", Tem said. "Uh. Thank you."
The three Crusaders passed through the checkpoint with minimal fuss, the excited murmuring of the guards following them through the gatehouse.
"Sun and Sword, I hate that name." Arashi complained.
"It's a good one." Tem countered.
"It lacks creativity, is all I'm saying." Arashi said. "I like 'Sun-Ronin' or 'Solar-Blade', perhaps."
Dergir suppressed a laugh, managing to say, "those, er…those would be…good, Mithi."
Arashi rolled his eyes. "Ok, perhaps Lightbringer isn't so bad, after all."
The trio entered the streets of the Old City, which were narrow but reasonably clean. Crowds thronged there as well, and had it not been for his backflipping stomach, Tem might have given into the temptation of a street side vendor selling paper sacks of some kind of fried dumpling.
"Y'ever notice how no matter where you go in the world, some fuckin' genius has figured out food's even better when you stuff it in dough and fry it in oil?" Dergir pondered aloud as he, too, eyed the dumpling seller, who was currently handing over two bags to a half-orc man with a much younger half-orc seated on his broad shoulders.
"I haven't had my grandmother's gyoza in so long." Arashi said wistfully. "We'll have to remember this stall is here."
Tem, Dergir, and Arashi were tempted with yet more food stands and trinket sellers. Taverns were standing room only, their patrons spilling out of the doors to drink their spirits in the streets. The entire city was alive with merriment, at odds with the cramped streets that were cast in shadow by tall, foreboding buildings. But, that was Ustalav, by all accounts. Finding joy amid darkness.
As the three made their way towards Prybylski Hall, the street began opening up a bit more. Stained glass windows grew more and more common. Some of the nicer houses owned by wealthy artisans and business people had one or more peaked turrets at the corners. Many of these turrets had wrap around balconies, upon which their owners sat taking lunch with guests that had come into Noviste for the tourney.
Turning a corner, Tem looked to his right down the street. About fifty feet on, walking away from them, was a small retinue of eight Irinushka guards. They were joined by two people that were either late teens or early adults in red and yellow livery, who were unarmored but carried sideswords. Then, beyond them, were two others. One was a rugged looking human man in plate armor polished to a mirror sheen. The other was unmistakably Violetta.
The heir-apparent of Barstoi had wrapped her usual braid around her head like a crown. She wore a doublet with slit sleeves in Irinushka colors over matching striped breeches. Her boots, which had been dyed black as well, were buckled above her knees. It was rounded out by a shoulder cape depicting her House's crest; a whippoorwill in flight as seen from below, flanked by daggers facing opposite directions. The whippoorwill was Pharasma's favored animal, the dagger the preferred weapon of the Lady of Graves. The symbology was unmistakable; the Irinushkas had been a devout family even before their daughter became so highly favored in Pharasma's service.
Temperance paused in the street, his heart leaping into his throat. He'd planned for this moment for months now, yet here at the precipice, it all fled him and all he could do was stare.
"Hey, it's Vivi!" Dergir said happily.
Arashi looked at Tem, then Violetta, then Tem, then down to Dergir. "Adi, I changed my mind. I think I want some of those dumplings now. We'll catch up later."
"Eh? What? But there's Viv-..." Dergir started to protest.
Arashi gave Tem a light shove forward, "I'll buy you a pint, Adi."
"Ah, dammit, you know me too well." Dergir said as he finally got the hint. "Best of luck, Tem."
"But…you can't…don't…", Temperance spluttered, but it was too late. His two compatriots had already abandoned him and melded into the crowd. For half a second he thought about following after them, but no. Temperance steeled himself. He would not allow himself to falter here. All his other plans went out the window. Desna, guide my path. The tiefling thought as he started ahead.
Violetta and her companion were walking at a leisurely pace. The man seemed to be doing most of the talking, Violetta's interest remaining on passing shop windows. Tem thought about shouldering his way through the guards to reach her, but then he realized they might think he was an assassin, which would make a very poor impression.
"Fangs!" Temperance said as he drew closer.
Several people nearby turned their heads to see who was shouting, then stared as they saw a large, heavily armed and armored tiefling walking with determination through the street. Temperance could feel his knees shaking with adrenaline as he watched Violetta, her companion, and their trailing attendants all turn around. Violetta's amethyst eyes went wide, her hand going to her chest as she watched Temperance approach.
"S-Stand down." The dhampir barely managed to say to her guards as Temperance passed through them, came before Violetta, and dropped to one knee.
"My lady Violetta, if you would allow me the honor, I would dedicate my performance in the tournament to you." Temperance declared, a little louder than he intended.
Violetta continued staring down at Temperance, her mouth agape, her face coloring. This lasted for several seconds and Tem was quickly beginning to wonder if he had made a mistake.
It was then Violetta's companion decided to speak.
"Forgive me, sir knight, but you have me at a disadvantage." The man said, looking down at Tem in more ways than one. "You must not come from a very well-known House, given I don't recognize you in spite of your…distinct appearance. Tell me, which tourneys have you participated in?"
Tem glanced up at the man, who had spoken with an Ustalavic accent. He bit back a smartass response, not wanting to cause Violetta any trouble among the nobility of her homeland. Still, his face burned with embarrassment. The man had cut to the crux of one of Tem's worries. The tiefling was a nobody on the grand scheme, while Violetta was the heir to one of Ustalav's sixteen counties. The unknown man seemed to sense his victory and a smug smile crossed his face.
"Forgive me, Boyar Wislaw", Violetta said, surety of tone and imperious expression replacing her bashfulness in an instant. "How rude of me not to introduce my old friend. This is Sir Temperance Tasgal, known as the Hallow-Horn, of the Crimson Templars. You would not know him personally, for he was fighting with me in the Crusade that closed the Worldwound, and was unable to attend any tournaments." A brief pause, then, "Sir Temperance, this is Boyar Wislaw Sebasken, one of the premier jousters in Ustalav, a skill he honed religiously over the past several years."
Temperance had to stop his own mouth from dropping open. Without violating etiquette or directly insulting him, Violetta had just dismantled Wislaw's honor and called his courage into open question. Sarkoris was on Ustalav's northern border. Thousands of Ustalav's bravest went north to fight in the Crusade, from nobles to paupers, many of whom left their bones in the Worldwound. "Over the past few years" was clearly meant to include when the Fifth Crusade was at its height just four years past.
Wislaw grew red faced for a much different reason than Violetta, lost for words as the dhampir put a last flourish on the noble's chastisement. She held out a hand to Temperance and said, "Sir Temperance, with you will rest my favor and my blessing for the tournament to come. You honor me with your dedication, win or lose."
Temperance took Violetta's hand and kissed the air above it, sealing the social contract. The tiefling stood up.
"Now, Boyar, if you will excuse us, I would like to catch up with my old friend." Violetta said. "I thank you for you company and wish you the best of luck in the tourney."
"Of…course, my lady." Wislaw said through his teeth. He touched his brow and inclined his head. "Good day, my lady. Sir Temperance."
"And you, my lord." Tem replied.
Wislaw turned around, but said out of the corner of his mouth. "Hellspawn."
"Abyss-spawn." Tem corrected under his breath.
Wislaw and his two squires walked away, leaving Temperance with Violetta and her guards. The two of them made eye contact, but Tem's nerves had calmed considerably. How funny that all it took was a mutual enemy to bring them together.
"Thanks." Temperance said, smiling at her.
Violetta looked away, brushing back a nonexistent strand of hair. "W-Well, I couldn't very well let that pompous ass insult you, could I?"
"If he's such a pompous ass, why were you walking with him?" Tem asked her, hoping that his question didn't come off as jealous.
Violetta shrugged her shoulders. "My family is hosting the tourney this year. It's my duty to be cordial to our many noble guests. Plus, well, I'm unmarried and unbetrothed, so Boyar Wislaw is just the latest in a long line of suitors that have managed to track me down over the past few days." A second shrug. "Can't be helped. Barstoi's salt mines are wealthy and it's not as if salt's suddenly going to stop being in demand. That sort of wealth draws them in like skum in Lake Encarthan."
When one was on a battlefield or in a duel, one had to seize openings when they arose. Given that Temperance had once heard a bard sing a song about love being a battlefield, he assumed the same principles applied here.
"I h-hope it wouldn't bother you if I joined them…ah, I mean, got in line. I mean got to the front of the line." Temperance lamely tried to piece together the thought that had been so good in his mind.
Violetta sharply took in a breath and Tem was sure she was on course to be as scarlet as he normally was. "You…You mean…?"
Temperance, who was suddenly hyper aware of the fact that all of Violetta's guards were still standing right behind him to witness this debacle, plowed forward. He took a deep breath, a wan smile crossing his face as he said, "aye. I am. I'm sorry I didn't realize what you felt back in Kintargo. But, the time apart gave me the chance to realize I really do feel the same way", Tem gave a silent thanks to Asaf, then he held out his arm, "I'd like to take things slow. Just to make sure we're certain about this. But, yes, Fangs. I'd like to court you, with your permission. Sorry if you were hoping for a ballad or a poem, but you know I'm rubbish at that sort of thing."
Violetta looked like she didn't quite believe what was happening was real.
"This isn't a prank, is it?" Violetta asked quietly, looking around. "Der and Shi aren't about to jump out of an alley and laugh at me, are they?"
Tem shook his head and laughed, offering his arm to Violetta. "No, they're off getting some dumplings and beer right now, I'm pretty sure."
Violetta moved with such care it was like she thought Tem would dissipate into mist upon touching him. But, no such thing happened, of course, and she threaded her arm through the crook of his elbow.
"That does sound like them. I can't wait to see them again." Violetta said, her voice unsteady but full of joy.
"We might be able to track them down still. They were with me until we saw you." Tem confessed.
"You mean they…?" Violetta began to say, then scowled, though she had no real anger. "Oh, those two! I'll have to thank them after I slap them for doing that to you!"
The two of them made and about face and started walking, Violetta's guards following. Whispers among the crowd also formed an auditory current in their wake. Tem had no doubt that speculation had abounded on who Violetta would give her favor for the tourney, and now not only had she granted it, but she had also, at least informally, entered into a courtship. The fact she had done so with a landless, lowborn tiefling, yet who was also apparently well known among the populace already, was certainly going to be fuel for that fire. In that moment, though, neither of the two of them cared.
They did, indeed, track Dergir and Arashi down, and the reunion was a joyous one, indeed. Dwarf and human alike gave some variation of "it's about time" when they saw Tem and Violetta walking arm in arm, and they all sat down for a drink. Tem's dream of seeing all his old friends again, at the same time, far away from the dangers of Sarkoris, had finally come true.
A couple hours later, after extracting a promise for dinner at the castle from Dergir and Arashi, and another promise to track down their other companions with the same offer, Temperance and Violetta were walking up the causeway to Prybylski Hall. The castle was an imposing series of pointed spires and thick battlements, resting upon a high cliff in the heart of the city, its walls roughly in a hexagon.
Temperance had been taken to a tailor and hurriedly dressed in a long, loose tunic that was belted at his waist, loose trousers, and leather boots with pointed toes. The clothes were finer than anything he had ever worn before. He repeatedly looked back with noticeable guilt at the house guards now carrying his armor and shield. Forbearance had been moved from Tem's back to his hip. But, Violetta had been insistent. If they were going to enter a courtship, her parents had to know, so they could tell others in the Ustalavic political sphere. Tem was once again a nervous wreck, this time with the certainty that the Countess and Count were going to deny the courtship. Still through all of this, he enjoyed walking arm in arm with Violetta while he could.
The two of them reached the castle gates, which were open. Within the castle's courtyard, luxurious carriages had been gathered together; the castle was most certainly playing host to noble guests from across the nation. The stables off to one side were loud with the braying and snorting of horses.
"Will the Grand Prince be here?" Tem asked.
Violetta nodded. "He arrives tomorrow morning. The Grand Prince is the master of ceremonies for the beginning of the tourney."
"Will he be taking part?" Tem asked further.
"No, he can't. Neither can the host family." Violetta didn't sound particularly bothered by that. "It's a tradition. I'm not sure where it comes from."
Two more guards opened the doors to the castle's great hall for them. It was positively buzzing with activity as servants prepared it, laying out tables and putting up banners along the twin rows of fluted columns. Violetta's escort peeled off, carrying Tem's equipment to the chambers he would be sleeping in.
"They're preparing for the feasts." Violetta explained. "There will be a feast here every night for the full week of the tourney, each one catering to a different section of the populace. The final night's feast will also be a ball for the gathered nobles. That's also where the winners will receive honors from the Grand Prince."
"Guess I didn't realize it was a full week." Tem said, sounding interested.
"Oh, yes. There's the joust, the melee, the duels, archery, contests of strength, acrobatics, magic, smithing, riding…", Violetta began to list off. "The Ustalav Grand Tourney draws people from as far as Garund and Tian Xia, but you'll mostly see people from the River Kingdoms, Andoran, Cheliax, Varisia, and Taldor. And Ustalav, of course." She laughed lightly. "Mother and father are determined to make this the best tourney ever hosted by Barstoi."
"I'm sure it will be." Tem said, and he hoped it was true.
They left the great hall. The passages of Prybylski Hall were rather like its streets, narrow but tall. The hallway that Violetta brought Temperance down was a rainbow of color thanks to the stained glass windows on one side. These windows showed, in sequence, Soividia Ustav founding Ustalav, the ascension of the first Count of Barstoi, the rise of Tar-Baphon and his six centuries of tyranny over the nation, and several other events that culminated with Countess Hyacinthia casting down the previous Count.
After ascending a flight of stairs and passing by portraits of Violetta's ancestors, the pair entered a conservatory that doubled as a sitting room. Sunlight was reflected off mirrors from above, washing over the room. Flowers grew in an almost complete circle around the edges of the room, save for the opening meant for the doorway. To Tem's left, they were red, to his right, indigo, and they slowly cycled through the colors of the rainbow as they went around. It was quite unlike the stereotypical perception of a dour, joyless Ustalavic castle.
The two people that occupied the room had the same deathly pale complexion that Violetta did. They rose from the table they were seated at when their daughter and Temperance entered.
Count Artyov was a short, grim faced man with a patch over his right eye. From his right knee down was a prosthetic of brass and wood. His attire was similar to Tem's, though it was in Irinushka colors and detailed with cloth-of-silver.
It was Countess Hyacinthia that Violetta took after the most. From the Countess came the white hair and amethyst eyes. Hyacinthia was of average height with a voluptuous build, her gown of dark muslin and lace leaving her neck and shoulders bare and flaring at the waist.
"Mother, Father." Violetta greeted them both in a level, if tight, voice.
"You did not tell us you were going to have a guest for tea, Vivi." Hyacinthia noted as she approached. Behind her, the table was set for tea and pastries; a typical mid to late afternoon occasion for those of society's upper rungs.
"I didn't know he was going to be here." Violetta explained.
Artyov moved his hands rapidly. Illusory words appeared to silently project from an amulet around his throat. "Forgive my presumption, but you must be Sir Temperance."
"I am, my lord." Temperance bowed deeply to the Countess and Count in sequence. "I've been eager to finally meet you."
"I brought Tem here because we're courting now." Violetta blurted, covering her mouth with one hand a moment later.
Her parents looked at their daughter, then glanced at each other.
"Is this supposed to be a surprise?" Artyov asked.
Hyacinthia lightly rapped her husband's shoulder with a folded fan, then said, "what your father means to say is that we have been anticipating this for a long time, but are happy for you both. If it's our blessing you seek, you have it. Now, come and sit. This will probably be the last bit of alone time we'll all get until after this week."
The Countess and Count resumed their seats. Tem and Violetta, who had not at all been prepared for such an easy response, were rooted in place for several seconds until the scrape of Artyov's chair spurred them forward. Temperance pulled Violetta's chair out for her before taking his own seat. A servant who had been waiting near the blue section of flowers approached and began pouring tea.
"How are you liking Noviste, Sir Temperance?" Hyacinthia asked as the tea was poured.
"It's an impressive place. Seems like it's grown a lot recently." The tiefling replied.
"It has, indeed." Hyacinthia said. "The previous Count, may the Hells hold him fast, was always on about the salt mines. Everything, everything was about the salt mines. They are important, certainly, but their wealth could do so much more than sit in a vault."
"Like the walls protecting New Town." Tem put forth.
"Exactly." Hyacinthia confirmed. "Too many people and too much cargo passes across those docks for them to not be protected."
Tem nodded, looking at the center of the table where a bunch of pastries were resting on several plates that grew smaller and smaller as they ascended the wireframe…rack? Stand? The thing that was holding them. He wasn't sure if he should just grab one until Violetta did exactly that with something that was in the shape of a spiral and stuffed with a substance that looked like peach preserves. Temperance snagged a macaroon, resisting the urge to eat it all at once, instead biting off half of it.
"So you truly don't…have any objections to my choosing Temperance?" Violetta asked.
"Why would we?" Artyov asked. His amulet allowed him to eat and talk at the same time. Every cloud did, indeed, have its silver lining.
"Vivi, dear, the three of us are already half-vampire, so it's not as if we're worried about a tiefling joining the family." Hyacinthia said easily in between bites of a cruller and a sip of tea. "Sir Temperance has a knighthood, an impressive record of deeds, and is already loved among the people of Noviste, thanks to your stories. It will probably annoy a noble family or two but, well, pleasing everybody is impossible, isn't it?" Hyacinthia laughed lightly. "All of that aside, your life has always been your own to direct. Your father and I are merely here to support you as best we can."
"And maybe now Boyar Tulkarj will stop offering horse breeding stock in exchange for your hand." Artyov added.
Tem snorted.
"Will you be participating in the joust, Sir Temperance?" Artyov asked.
"Oh, no." Tem said, waving the idea off. "I can hold a lance in a cavalry charge just fine, but I'm no good on a jousting list. No, I'll be in the melee and the duels, perhaps the strength contests as well, if Kurgess looks kindly on me." Kurgess the Strongman was a minor god of competition, athleticism, sportsmanship, and self-improvement. It was widely believed he was the son of Desna and a pre-godhood Cayden Cailean.
"Well, you certainly look like you belong in a strength competition." Hyacinthia noted.
"Mother!" Violetta squeaked, palming her face.
"You flatter me, my lady." Temperance said graciously. "I can only hope I do justice to your daughter's favor in whichever contests I end up in."
Violetta's embarrassment changed to a beaming smile, which she directed over at Temperance, a veritable glow radiating from her that made a swooping sensation tumble through Tem's middle. By Desna's own wings, Violetta was beautiful. And Tem could finally say it. Violetta was beautiful. The way her left cheek dimpled when she smiled, the slight gap between her front teeth, the laugh lines in the corners of her eyes. And they were no longer just writing letters and wondering. They were actually courting now. It was unbelievable.
"Sir Temperance?" Hyacinthia asked.
Tem had been staring at Violetta, who had been staring back.
Tem cleared his throat, then, "forgive me, my lady. Please repeat that?"
Afternoon tea passed pleasantly. It mostly involved Temperance speaking about his adventures since becoming a Pathfinder. Neither parent asked about the Crusade and for that Tem was grateful. Even comparing the struggle against Ancalagos, there were things he'd seen in Worldwound that simply wouldn't compare to anything else ever again. At least, he hoped they wouldn't.
After tea, the Countess and Count went off to attend to their many guests. Violetta showed Tem around Prybylski Hall. The gardens were especially nice. Frankly, though, Violetta could have been walking him through a swamp and he would have enjoyed it. Temperance was soaring high and wasn't sure he'd ever come back down. The two of them kept catching each others' eyes and bursting into fits of giggles.
Eventually their pleasant walk came to an end and they went to dinner. Tem's other companions were all there, as were dozens of peerage from across the Inner Sea Region. Here, Asaf was in his element, and was in as high of spirits as Tem had seen him, regaling all who would listen with tales of his exploits with the Pathfinder Society (though some of the facts he presented were frequently challenged by Scaelia, much to the amusement of all). Temperance was content to let Asaf have his limelight, enjoying the food and drink and music. Occasionally, the tiefling would look up to the head table where the three nobles of Barstoi were seated, and he'd find Violetta looking at him over the rim of her wine glass. Tem would raise his cup to her or offer a wink.
Temperance seeing all his dear friends both old and new enjoying each others' company and a moment's peace did wonders for washing away the stress and exhaustion of the previous months.
Ragathiel. Desna. Thank you. Temperance thought.
Everyone had retired to their respective chambers for the evening, but sleep would not come to Temperance. He was too excited. Giddy, really. He'd hoped that coming to Noviste and confessing his feelings to Violetta would calm his thoughts about her, but now they were only more persistent.
"Gods." Tem sighed, sitting up in the bed he'd been given, then swinging his feet out. He had an idea. It was probably a bad one, but he couldn't persuade himself out of it. Tem put on his gambeson, trews, and travel boots, strapping Forbearance across his back, then left his room.
The passages of Prybylski Hall were dark, though that meant little to a tiefling. Tem wasn't sure if he should try to hide from any guards that he came upon or just act like he belonged where he was. But it didn't end up being a problem. Temperance reached Violetta's door and knocked on it, trying to find a good middle ground between "loud enough to be heard" while also "soft enough to not be heard."
The door cracked open rather quickly, almost as if the person within had been unable to sleep, either. Violetta, her hair down and clad only in a nightgown, peered through the gap. Temperance had never seen her with her hair down and decided it was something he would like to see more of. The nightgown, too, but best not to dwell on that at the moment.
"Tem?" She whispered.
"Up for an adventure?" Temperance asked her. His flicking tail betrayed his nerves.
"An…adventure?" Violetta asked.
"Aye." Tem said.
To the Lady Irinushka's credit, she had only a moment's hesitation.
"I'll be down at the servants' entrance in ten minutes." Violetta said, ducking back in, but appearing again to say, "twenty minutes."
"Alright." Tem said.
"Okay." Violetta said.
A pause.
"Twenty minutes." Temperance confirmed, then set off down the hallway, his boots falling to the tattoo of his thumping heart.
Tem made his way down to the ground floor of the castle, passing through the kitchens to reach the servants' entrance. He waited outside, arms crossed. It felt like sneaking away from the caravan with his childhood friends to go cause trouble in whichever town the Tasgal Clan happened to be camped near at the time.
The door opened behind Tem, and he expected a squad of guards to come through for some reason. Instead, it was the person he'd been waiting for. Violetta had changed into a simple bodice, ankle-length dress, and cloak. Her washair in its familiar braid, though she had added a bandana to it, which was a common look. Temperance focused on maintaining eye contact and not staring at what Violetta's bodice was showing off.
"Alright. Where are we going?" Violetta asked excitedly.
"No idea." Tem said with a grin. "That's why it's an adventure."
Violetta covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, "well, c'mon, this way."
The dhampir snatched Tem's hand and began pulling him along. The two of them ran with soft treads, snickering and shushing each other all the while. Violetta brought Temperance to an outbuilding that abutted against the wall and hauled him inside.
"There's a secret passage in here", Violetta said as she lead them past stacks of storage containers. "Supposed to be used as an escape tunnel or to sneak out saboteurs in case of a siege. I used to use it to…well, do what we're doing right now."
Violetta brought Tem to the back of the building and said a command word at a seemingly nondescript section of wall. A latch clicked and the wall swung open. They passed through, Tem closing the door behind them. Violetta brought Tem down a set of spiral stairs in which the tiefling had to duck to not clack his remaining intact horn on the ceiling.
The exit was a spot in the rock wall of the cliff that held up Prybylski Hall that was concealed amid a dense coverage of bushes. Once they were sure there were no witnesses to their emergence, Tem and Violetta emerged into the back alleys facing the cliff, then scampered off into the city. All the while, Violetta refused to let go of Tem's hand, a state of affairs Temperance was more than happy to allow to continue.
"I'm guessing by 'adventure' you meant 'tavern?'" Violetta asked as they fell in with the crowd of late night revelers.
"You know me too well, Fangs." Tem confirmed.
"I know the perfect one." Violetta said with a twinkle in her eye.
Temperance knew they had little hope for anonymity as they made their way down the street. Violetta was obviously well known among the common people, and Temperance wasn't exactly good at blending with a crowd. Yet, the pair allowed a simple fiction to rise, even if it was only "real" for the two of them. They weren't a battlesworn Templar and the heiress to the county; just a sellsword and his sweetheart out on the town.
In spite of the late hour, Noviste seemed even more alive than it had during the day. Tem and Violetta were forced to shimmy their way through the crowds more than once, but eventually they found their way to an outdoor tavern set up in a plaza surrounded by shops that were closed for the night. Proceedings were taking place under the watchful gaze of a statue of the first Count of Barstoi, Count Yndre Chanowitz. A group of musicians were playing off to one side, and dozens of people were dancing and clapping along.
Some distant part of Tem's mind was reminded of the festival in the city of Kenabres that had been taking place when the Demon Lord known as Deskari attacked, an event that would herald the beginning of the Fifth Crusade. The plaza had been sundered by a single swing of Deskari's great scythe, Riftmaker, and demons had flooded into the city, killing thousands. Temperance, Violetta, Dergir, and Arashi had been there, hoping to enjoy some rest and relaxation after a long deployment out in the Worldwound. They had quickly found themselves in a fight for their lives against demons and cultists alike. Kenabres had almost been their graves.
"Tem?" Violetta asked, looking concerned.
Temperance blinked, looking at her. He hadn't realized he'd stopped.
"I'm…sorry, just got distracted." Temperance said, putting a smile on.
Violetta wasn't fooled. "You're thinking about Kenabres. Don't give me that look. I was, too. I can't see a festival square anymore without thinking about it." She sighed, but it was not one of frustration or impatience. Rather, it had a sympathetic tone to it. "We can go somewhere else. Or back to the castle, if you need to. Whatever will make you comfortable."
With a much more genuine smile, Temperance took her hand in both of his. "It's alright. Really, it is. We're safe here. The memory just struck me in an odd way is all. Having you here with me makes it all worth it."
"You promise?" Violetta asked pointedly.
"I promise." Tem said, taking the lead, "now, c'mon. Let's dance."
"Dance? With me?" Violetta asked, confounded.
"Uuh…yes?" Tem said slowly.
"You're sure I'm not a succubus?" Violetta asked, the very image of innocence.
Tem groaned, but laughed. "With how you've put a spell on me, you might just be."
"Tem…!" Violetta breathed, cheeks flushing as she let Tem lead her to dance.
Ustalav had originally been settled by Varisians long ago, and though their music had drifted far into something new, there was just enough familiarity that Tem was confident he wasn't going to step on Violetta's toes.
The first dance was fast, and the two of them were quickly swept up, Violetta occasionally breaking away to spin gracefully around Temperance, returning to his embrace each time. Tem could barely focus on his own steps for how he felt compelled to watch her every movement. The people on the instruments could not match the music of Violetta's laughter.
After the first dance, they had wine, a cycle that repeated a few times late into the night. They barely noticed some of the other people around them filtering away a few hours later as the music began to slow and the two of them, invariably, drew closer and closer until there was no room left between them. The moved through a waltz, Violetta's hands on Tem's shoulders, the tiefling's hands around her waist.
"Tem?" Violetta asked softly.
"Mm?" The tiefling grunted.
Violetta did not speak at first. "N-...Nevermind."
"What is it?" Tem pressed.
"It's just…well, you said you wanted to take things slow…", Violetta said.
"But…?" Tem prompted.
Violetta looked into his eyes, and it was then Temperance internalized all the looks she had given him in Kintargo, even back in Sarkoris. For Temperance, this romantic affection was a newly spawned feeling just a few months old. But for Violetta, this night was the culmination of years of unrequited love.
"I don't want to push you." Violetta said, looking aside. "But…I'd…I just really want to kiss you right now."
Tem almost tripped over his own feet. He was so unsure of how to respond that he spluttered the first thing that came to mind.
"So this is when I find out you're a succubus." The tiefling blathered.
Violetta was caught halfway between amusement and mortification "S-Sorry, I shouldn't have asked, it was too soon, I ju-..."
Tem stopped them; there was plenty of room to do so now. He put a hand on Violetta's cheek, leaned down, and kissed her softly on the lips.
"I think that was right on time." Tem whispered to her a moment later.
"Alseta's smiling faces, you are a cruel man, Temperance Tasgal." Violetta retorted, the color in her cheeks now reaching to the tips of her ears.
"They all call me 'hellspawn' for a reason." Tem replied, unable to stop smiling.
Violetta put a hand around his neck and said, "Abyss-spawn", before pulling him into another kiss, this one deeper, making Tem feel like his head was spinning.
When Violetta pulled breathlessly away, Tem could feel her trembling and saw she was crying.
"Fangs? What's wrong?" Tem asked, leading her off to one side of the plaza.
"Nothing. Nothing at all." Violetta said, making a sound between laughter and sobbing. "I'm just…I'm really happy right now. I've been…Lady of Graves, it's going to sound stupid but I've been dreaming of this for a long time."
"It's not stupid", Tem said, using his sleeve to dab her tears away. "Dreams are what keep us going. I'm glad I get to share this one with you."
"Me too. Me too." Violetta said with an emphatic nod and a sniffle. "But, as much as I hate to say it, we better be getting back. Tomorrow's going to be a long day starting a long week for the House of Irinushka."
"You let me know if I can be of any help." Tem insisted.
Violetta brought his knuckles to her lips, then said, "you already have."
And so they left the plaza behind, making their way back to the secret passage leading back into the castle.
Their return to their rooms was delayed somewhat by several stops along the passage for more kissing.
16th Lamashan, 4721
Noviste, Barstoi, Ustalav
Asaf, to the surprise of many in his group, did not participate in any of the tourney events. He was not a competitive man by nature and preferred the atmosphere the tourney cultivated over the event itself. It was only in the great cities like Absalom where one could find so many people from so many places at once. Normally, this would mean having his pick of paramours to wile away the hours with.
But something had changed.
Asaf was spending more time with Scaelia. They were both taking notes on the tourney for their chronicles, but more importantly, were in the opening stages of discussing of how their theoretical joint work would be arranged. It was a mentally stimulating way to pass the time. Asaf found himself looking forward to each discussion more and more.
The Irinushkas had laid the tourney out wisely. The joust was on the last day, and given it was the most popular event, it kept people in the city longer, spending money at local businesses. Asaf didn't see much of the ruling family, nor did he see much of Tem, for that matter. Temperance and Violetta were rarely apart during the course of the week. Asaf could not blame the tiefling, and aside from a good natured ribbing over it, was just happy to see his friend so happy.
Asaf had watched his friends participate in all their events. Dhrak had been one of the final two in the Grand Melee, where he was swiftly eliminated by his adoptive cousin Jamandi Aldori, a half-elf woman widely regarded as one of the most skilled swordsmen of the age. Temperance put on a fine show in the semi-finals of the dueling lists, but was outmaneuvered by a Vudrani rajput warrior by the name of Gavindra Siturani. It was humbling to be reminded that no matter how strong their group got, there would always be someone out there as strong or stronger.
The duels had been the day before. Asaf had agreed to meet Scaelia at the inn he'd been staying at, the Salt Vault, for dinner. Though he'd been offered fine quarters in Prybylski Hall, Asaf preferred inns to castles when he could help it. He essentially had a room permanently reserved at the Oasis Overflowed back in Al Tamaya's capital, Saif.
Scaelia was making her daily pilgrimage to one of Noviste's healing houses, which had left Asaf to his own devices for about an hour. He had been spending that hour maintaining the almost constant wine-fueled buzz he'd been keeping up all week; never enough to be drunk…well, at least not until the end of the night. Regardless, Asaf was in an excellent mood as he went out into the alley of the Salt Vault to relieve himself and get some fresh air. The aasimar was whistling to himself, idly pondering on his chronicle, when someone cleared their throat behind him.
"If you're here to mug me, I highly suggest you choose another target." Asaf said as he pulled his trousers back up and belted them.
"No. I'm not here for that." A voice said.
Asaf's blood froze. No. No, not here.
The Pathfinder whipped about, praying to Sarenrae, Desna, and anyone else who would listen that it would be anyone but who he suspected it would be.
The gaunt gnome had bright green hair, though the first signs of the Bleaching were beginning to touch his temples. He wore a long, leather coat, and a wide-brimmed frontiersman's hat, with specially crafted wands tucked into sheathes on his hips. Shockingly, the gnome was by himself.
"Hello, Asaf." Said Valisthas Qolthurdon as he appraised the aasimar with a hard look.
"Where…are the others?" Asaf asked, looking around.
"Somewhere else." Valisthas said. He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. "You know why I'm here."
"I'm sure I don't." Asaf said, eyes flicking around. If Korta and TS were nearby, they would have him zeroed in with bow and gun.
"Asaf." Valisthas spat, physically shaking with anger as he took a calming breath. "I swear by the Reaper of Reputations that if you don't play straight with me, people are going to get hurt. People you care about get hurt. Or, at least, people you aren't done using and haven't thrown away yet."
The gnome's words were knives into Asaf's chest. "Then tell me what you want." The aasimar said.
"You're going to hand over your bracelet and come with me." Valisthas said. "I'm going to take you someplace, and then TS is going to talk to you, then she's going to put a bullet in the back of your head."
Asaf's heart skipped. His breath became shallow, his palms beginning to sweat.
"You can't expect me to come with you on those terms…", Asaf said.
"Varisia. Those old ruins? The dragonborn? It was TS's gunshots that alerted them." Valisthas explained bluntly. "Guess you could say that was a…wake up call for me. That was the last time TS intends to act indirectly. You're lucky none of your cronies ended up dead. They will this time. TS…she's gone over the edge, Asaf. I've tried to rein her in, Korta and Theadocia, too, but she's made her vows to Calistria now." The gnome sagged against the alley wall. "I'll be honest. I used to look forward to this. Used to smile at the idea. But, I'm tired of this, Asaf. I'm tired of tracking you down, and I'm tired of other people getting caught in the crossfire of what should've been settled a long time ago just between us. I'm not happy with how things went down in Varisia, but we didn't expect the dragonborn to be there. It was always just supposed to be you. Korta and Thea are with me on this. We managed to convince TS to stop escalating things on the condition that you do the right thing."
Asaf clenched his fists to keep them from shaking. It didn't work. He felt sick to his stomach.
"Your fathers. Your drow friend. The tiefling. The goblin. There won't be any elaborate plots about it anymore, Asaf. TS is going to do something crazy and someone is going to get hurt. As long as it hurts you, she doesn't care." Valisthas went on. "But you can keep them safe. You can come with me right now and face up like you should have years ago. I'm giving you this chance because I'd be a pile of unmentionable mummy rot leavings in the deserts of Osirion if you hadn't hauled my ass back to Sothis. Let's put this to rest. That is, unless you're happy to fight another ash clone every year until one of them finally gets lucky?"
Asaf was speechless. He'd felt like he was going to be able to keep running forever. But that wasn't how it worked, was it? The past always caught up. And now, amid one of the best times of his life, Asaf was suddenly staring his own death in the face, and that death was the only thing that would protect the new friends he'd worked so hard to make. He tried to think of counterpoints, a defense of why he had done what he did, but none of it mattered. Valisthas would know anything he said was disingenuous at best, a lie at worst. And, truth be told, Asaf was also tired of running.
The aasimar did not speak. He merely took his bracelet from his wrist and tossed it to the dirty floor of the alley.
Valisthas picked the bracelet up and pocketed it. "Can't do anything about your magic except tell you…"
"Yes. Consequences." Asaf said lowly. "Let's just get on with it."
"I'll make sure TS makes it quick." Valisthas said, making Asaf walk just in front of him.
Asaf let himself be guided through the city, all thought of fighting back gone out of him as he trudged along. He had given up. Sure, his new friends would probably miss him for a while, but this was a dangerous life, wasn't it? Death happened. They would move on. Asaf only regretted that he hadn't been able to see his fathers one last time.
Valisthas did not speak, did not taunt or talk down. He just guided Asaf along, his face set in grim determination. The aasimar's eyes remained fixed on his boots even as the two of them wandered through the twists and turns of a back alley. Asaf had to protect his friend. If any single one of them died because of him, Asaf would never be able to forgive himself. This meeting with Valisthas was Abadar's own justice; the scales being balanced.
In a particular alley, Asaf looked ahead to see Korta standing with one hand on a shortsword, the other holding a hand crossbow. She sniffed upon seeing Asaf.
"Stinks of cowardice all of a sudden." The half-orc grunted. She went around behind Asaf and bound his hands with manacles.
Asaf made no rebuttal as Korta opened the door and Valisthas nudged the aasimar inside.
The small, forgotten room Asaf was ushered into was dark and smelled of rot. There was a quiet buzzing in Asaf's ears and he felt sick.
Antimagic field. He realized. His magic was in his blood. It was part of him. Such a strong reaction to it was unavoidable.
"You came prepared, Theadocia." Asaf said, finding the Taldoran shaman in the corner of the room."
Thea said nothing.
Pain erupted from the back of Asaf's head as something struck him hard. Asaf pitched to the ground and sprawled out, his face hitting the floor and causing him to see stars.
"You son of a bitch!" The familiar voice of TS-54 snapped.
A boot connected with Asaf's ribs and he wheezed in pain.
"T! We had an agreement. We'd end this quickly and be done with it!" Valisthas shouted.
A firearm cocked. "Shut up, Val, or my first bullet goes into your skull instead." A hand bunched up Asaf's hair and yanked his head up. Asaf was staring dead into the grey, remorseless eyes of Tracker-Slayer Model 54. The blue lines beneath the android's skin seemed brighter than Asaf remembered.
"T…", Asaf coughed.
"I've been dreaming of this for years." TS seethed as she dug the barrel of a flintlock pistol into Asaf's temple. Every night, I imagined putting this bullet in your head."
"T, let me explain…", Asaf pleaded, his stoic acceptance not so staunch with a loaded gun pressed to his head.
TS slammed Asaf's head against the floor. "Shut up!" She snarled. "The only thing I want to hear from you is a confession. That's it. And the pain's going to keep coming until I hear one. Got it?!"
"A confession of what?" Asaf croaked.
Another kick. Asaf curled in on himself.
"T…", Theadocia said, a grimace in her voice.
"What? Oh, now it's suddenly too much? Like we haven't been after this son of a bitch for years, working in the shadows like cowards?!" The android shouted back.
"Does not Calistria say vengeance should be taken when the chance for it is at hand?" Korta asked.
"Not until I hear him say it." TS growled. "Admit it, Asaf. You abandoned her. You left her behind and ran like a dog!"
Asaf tried to hide within himself, tried to fold up his mind and just stay silent. Perhaps she'd realize it was futile and just put him out of his misery, or she'd grow so frustrated she wouldn't be able to help but pull the trigger.
"I didn't know, TS. I swear I thought she was dead! Please, by Sarenrae's mercy, be reasonable!"
Another kick slammed in between Asaf's shoulder blades. Trying to reason was folly.
"But after the first ash clone came after you, you knew something was up. You knew she wasn't dead. Yet you kept lying to everyone!" TS shrieked.
The butt of her pistol split open Asaf's forehead and blood began running down his face. More kicks. Pain was radiating over him and he just wanted it to stop.
"I…I confess." Asaf muttered.
A timeless moment passed.
TS knelt in front of him again, her pistol in hand. "What do you confess to? Say it exactly."
Words caught in Asaf's throat. He started to cry; from the pain, from this miserable situation, and most of all, from the memories.
"I left Saerwen behind." His words were a spiderweb being taken by the wind, so light were they. "I left her. I left her and saved myself. And I chose to never go back."
It was TS's turn to start crying. Tears ran from the corners of both her eyes, causing a glimmer where they passed over the subdermal blue lines.
"We went back there, Asaf." She whispered. "We saw her. We tried to free her. But your blood trapped her. Only your blood can free her."
"Take me there and I'll do it. Let me make this right, TS. Please…", Asaf entreated her with desperation.
TS shook her head slowly. "You've had years to make this right. It's too late for that now. We only need your blood, and I'll be getting that right now."
"You can't be sure it will work…", Asaf said.
The pistol barrel was against his head once more.
"She was my entire world, Asaf. And so were you. And we were hers." TS said through choked sobs. "But apparently we were nothing to you."
"That's not true." Asaf retorted, finding some small measure of fire left burning deep inside of him. "I dreamed of ruling Al Tamaya alongside the both of you. I never lied about that. In that ruin, I…I panicked. I made a mistake. I'm…", emotion overtook him, he was almost weeping too hard to finish his sentence, "...I'm sorry, T. I'm so sorry."
TS stood, swaying slightly as she said, "it's too late for apologies, too, Asaf. The Savoured Sting will have you, now", she lifted her pistol, pointing it at Asaf's head as she uttered a Calistrian valediction. "I stab thee with my heart."
There was an explosion of flame as the door to the chamber burst inwards in a shower of splinters. While Asaf's four captors recoiled from this, an arrow flew among the debris. It was aimed at Korta, who had been nearest to the door but had already dived with uncanny awareness. The arrow passed through where Korta had been standing…
…and took Theadocia squarely in the chest. The breath gasped out from the shaman as the arrow passed into her.
Almost at once, Asaf felt the antimagic field dissipate. Beside him, TS raised her pistol towards the door, a scream of fury and outrage on her lips. Asaf lashed out with his foot, kicking TS squarely in the knee. The joint cracked and the android fired her shot wide and she fell as her leg gave out. When she hit the ground, Asaf kept kicking, driven by unchecked rage, fear, and despair. Once he was sure TS was disabled, Asaf brought his legs up and passed his arms under his feet in order to get his hands in front of his body. Then it was a matter of an acid cantrip to melt through the chains. He stood up.
A firebolt cantrip struck Asaf in the chest, burning through his shirt, searing his flesh, and sending him sprawling back onto TS's inert form. Valisthat had both his wands raised, next sending a dagger-like sliver of ice at Asaf. The aasimar rolled to one side, saw something, then took advantage.
"YOU'LL PAY FOR THI-...!" Valisthas started to below.
But the pistol Asaf had just taken from TS's thigh holster belched smoke, fire, and lead, the round shot boring through Valisthas's forehead and exploding out the back of his skull in a shower of gore. The gnome's wands clattered to the floor, followed shortly by the gnome himself.
Asaf tried to stand up and go out into the alley where he heard the clash of steel on steel. His body refused to respond. He was too injured, too drained. Instead, the aasimar took up TS's third and final pistol, waiting for Korta to come through the door.
The sound of battle stopped. Korta did, indeed, come through the door, but she was clutching a gushing wound in her side, trying to keep her insides from spilling out. The half-orc leaned against the door frame and looked at Asaf. After muttering what could only have been the vilest of invectives, Korta slid to the floor and went still.
Someone new came in next. Scaelia had her scimitar drawn, the blade glowing with radiant magic as she entered and saw Asaf.
"Halo!" The cleric gasped, sheathing her sword. The drow's left arm was limp at her side, her bicep slashed down to the bone, and a dagger was jutting from the silksteel armor protecting her chest.
"You're…hurt…" Asaf wheezed.
"Neither will kill me. My armor saved me from anything more than a flesh wound." Scaelia said quickly as she placed a hand on Asaf.
The aasimar batted her hand away. "Heal yourself. Just…just leave me."
Scaelia blinked. "What? Everlight's grace, what are you talking about?"
"I don't deserve it." Asaf said. "I'm a coward. If I live, I'm just going to get you killed, too. Just like…"
"Shut the fuck up!" Scaelia snapped, forcing her hand through Asaf's weak defense. "Just shut up, you absolute, self-pitying idiot! I haven't healed you so many times just to leave you to bleed out here, so stow that talk and quit fucking struggling!"
Asaf was stunned into compliance, and he felt Scaelia's now familiar healing magic pass into him. A lot was required. TS had broken several bones, probably caused internal bleeding and a concussion, too. Thankfully, Scaelia saved enough for herself.
The drow helped Asaf to his feet. The two of them looked down at TS-54. The light was gone from her eyes.
"Did you kill her?" Scaelia asked.
"I did." Asaf said. It probably wasn't literally true. Androids were, functionally, immortal. They did have souls, however, and an android could choose to allow its soul to pass to the afterlife whenever it wished. Normally, they would do this after about a century to allow a new soul to be given life. Some did not. It seemed the failure of her vengeance was the final straw for TS. So, in the end, Asaf had killed her. He'd killed all four of them.
"I'm sorry." Asaf whispered.
"Look. I'm just glad you're alive, ok?" Scaelia said, taking him by the arm. "We need to get out of here. Thanks be to the Dawnflower we have friends in the castle now."
"No, for the self-pity." Asaf clarified. He let Scaelia lead him along as easily as he'd been herded by Valisthas.
"Don't be sorry, then. Be better." Scaelia retorted. "Let's get you somewhere safe, and then you're going to tell us what that was all about. All of it."
"Every detail." Asaf promised. He felt hollowed out, a walking husk, as he left the bodies of four great Pathfinders to bleed their lifeblood into the floorboards of an anonymous Ustalav slum.
When Scaelia had said "us", she had meant it. Scaelia, Temperance, Dhrak, Violetta, Dergir, and Arashi were all gathered in the sitting room that was part of Violetta's personal chambers in Prybylski Hall. It was a room of soft textures and dark colors. A large Pharasman spiral of lapis lazuli set into obsidian was hung over the room's cold fireplace. Alseta's two-faced symbol had been lovingly carved above every doorframe.
The group of adventurers sat gathered around a low table, sunk into cushioned chairs that did not see much use. In spite of the hour beginning to grow late. Asaf was the odd man out, so to speak. Tem sat beside Violetta, Dergir with Arashi, Dhrak next to Scaelia. Even though these were supposed to be his friends, Asaf felt more isolated, more alone, than he ever had before.
"Whenever you're ready, Halo." Scaelia said.
Why is "whenever you're ready" just a polite way to say "hurry up?" Asaf thought. He took a deep breath, then spoke.
"I used to adventure with a group of Pathfinders; there was Theadocia, a shaman from Taldor; Valisthas, an artificer from the Technic League in Numeria; Tracker-Slayer Model 54, a sharpshooting android Valisthas found in the Silver Mount; Kotra, a half-orc thief from Andoran; and…and Saerwen, a ranger from Kyonin. We all became part of the Pathfinder Society at nearly the same time. There is not much to speak of in the way of details of our early adventures that apply to this story, so I shall spare you them. I suppose it is relevant to say that Saerwen, TS, and I grew much closer than comrades or friends."
"We had been adventuring together for several years when our travels brought us to Isger. We were on the trail of an Azlanti artifact, the Ashen Engine, said to be capable of spawning an army of clones. I haven't the slightest idea what we thought we were going to do with the thing once we discovered. I, personally, envisioned thousands of copies of myself aiding Qadira in a bid for freedom from the Padishah Emperor of Kelesh. But, that matters not. We found the ruin where the Ashen Engine was supposed to lay, inert but awaiting a new master. Upon delving into it, we found the only way to reach the Engine was to descend down a rope through the ceiling of the great cave that contained the ruin. Saerwen and I volunteered to descend first and ensure the area was safe."
"We…", Asaf suppressed a shudder. "...we went down into the cave, touching down near the engine. It was an arcane machine, much like many other devices created by the Azlanti. We had just called the all clear. Korta and TS were preparing to descend. I placed my hand upon a part of the machine; a round ball of metal about the size of an apple. Countless needles smaller than the eye could see jabbed into my hand and took my blood. That was the catalyst. Nearby, Saerwen had been inspected a sort of…coffin of glass and metal. It wasn't terribly unlike what we saw in the StasShip", he said this last part to those who had been there. "When the machine took my blood, the coffin sprang open. Enchanted chains r-reached out and…and they…"
Asaf felt tears starting to form in his eyes.
"I ran before I saw what they did to her. The entire ruin started waking up. We had no idea if there were any defenses or…anything, really. I don't know. I panicked. I was terrified of dying down there in that cave. So I screamed up at the others that… the machine had been trapped and Saerwen was dead and that we had to go. Automatons were beginning to wake up and break through the cave walls that had formed over them. I reached the descent rope and climbed up as quickly as I could. TS demanded to go down, but I told her there was nothing left of Saerwen. We ran out of there as quickly as we could. I'm not sure how they all believed me; I think they were panicking, too. But the truth of the matter was I had lied. I didn't know if Saerwen was dead. That guilt is what made me leave the group and begin my solo career with only a hired bodyguard. After all…bodyguards are expected to perish in defense of their charges, are they not?"
"It wasn't until the first ash clone attacked me that I truly realized what I had done." Asaf approached the end. "But, in a way…I hoped one of them might succeed, because I could not face my old group, could not go back and face Saerwen, could not face…myself. So I have left her to languish down there for all these years, living a lie each day." Asaf wanted to go on, but after Scaelia's rebuke for his self-pity, he decided that he had nothing else useful to add, and thus fell silent.
The others didn't say anything immediately, and that was all the proof Asaf needed in that moment to assume they were about to cast him out, condemn him for his cowardice, and slander his name across the Inner Sea. Self-pitying or not, it was what Asaf deserved.
"Where in Isger?" Temperance spoke first.
Asaf blinked. "What?"
"Where in Isger is this ruin?" Temperance asked.
"Oh. It's, uh…it is accessed through an old iron mine near Dustpawn in eastern Isger." Asaf answered. "All the iron mines about Dustpawn were played out by Cheliax a long time ago."
"Could you find this place again?" Tem asked further.
Asaf got it. "You can't be serious, Sir Temperance."
"I'm dead fucking serious, Halo." The Templar retorted. "I'm going. And you're going to take me there."
"And you two won't be going by yourselves." Scaelia put in. "Merciful Sarenrae will guide us on this mission of redemption."
"And Cayden will make sure there's plenty to drink when we're done!" Dhrak declared.
Asaf felt his lower lip start to tremble as tears yet again threatened to overwhelm him. "I cannot ask you to do this…"
"Then it's a damn good fuckin' thing you don't have to ask." Dergir harrumphed.
"What Adi means to say is we will be glad to help you." Arashi translated for the dwarf.
Everyone looked at Violetta.
The dhampir said, "I'm a Mortal Usher and this is Ustalav, the center of Pharasman worship on Golarion. No one's going to stop me from joining a mission to put a soul to their proper rest. I'm in."
Scaelia stood up. "I don't care what's in your past, Halo. None of us do. You called yourself a coward? What kind of coward leaps onto a dragon's back to protect a friend, or dives headlong into a burning forest to fight an enemy we know nothing about?"
"Don't forget the ice linnorms", Dhrak said.
"Or the fight on the Godray where you stood up to a devil." Tem added.
The entire group stood. Asaf was the last, rising delicately and unsteadily.
"We'll make this right." Tem assured him. He put out his hand over the low table. One by one, the others did the same thing.
Asaf gaped at their hands, then said, "I'll…never be able to give voice to how grateful I am to all of you." He wiped his eyes and nose on his sleeve.
"As long as you don't put that hand you just wiped your face with in the circle." Scaelia blanched.
Everyone laughed, even Asaf, who put his other hand in with his friends'. He did feel like he deserved this loyalty. But, that's what friendship was, wasn't it? It was loyalty, support, and love, without asking for anything in return. He swore to himself, then and there, that he would provide all those things to these half-dozen heroes who were giving him so much.
"Very well, then." Asaf said, his smile grim but determined. "To Isger."