Gods and Men . . . and Gnomes

Twang and Aspen had left the chapel, agreeing to try and find game that might appease the likely-vampire. Eylylyn sat in one of the few pews that remained intact, leafing through her newfound books, jotting down notes for further analysis later. Sir Mercurion tended to his mule, seemingly eavesdropping on the hushed conversation between Izmark and the Priest of the Morninglord. Rahsaan may have tried to listen as well, but the voice of his angelic guide commanded his attention.

“This is a fool’s errand.” Voriel said, “A devil’s spawn cannot be reasoned with- that man is already dead. Open the way forward and end his misery.  Be the one who can truly answer prayers.”

“Aspen took the key.” Rahsaan muttered, leaning against the entryway with his arms crossed. Thanks to his strengthened connection to Voriel, he didn’t have to speak loudly for the angel to hear him now- though he did realize that his mumblings may attract a different sort of attention. “Besides, the prayer was for salvation, not for his death. If we kill that young man, then we lose any chance of saving him from Strahd. ”

Voriel didn’t reply for a moment, but then asked, “How long do you think that priest prayed to the Morning Lord? Hours? Days? Do you think his plea would be answered if only he continued until next morning? The only one listening to his plight was what creature locked in the cellar.”

Rahsaan rolled his eyes, “Why are you so convinced that the Gods are dead? I believed the Lawgiver was a lie because I didn’t want to accept that so many people could worship something as wicked as he. But now,”

He looked to Sir Mercurion and then to Eylylyn, who gasped excitedly. She had discovered something useful, no doubt.  “Surely, someone must be watching out for them. Whoever they are, their ways are different and just not as direct as you.”

“The one to whom they dedicated this church, the one to whom they actually intend to worship- it is gone.” Voriel said flatly. “There are other forces beyond mortal understanding, overhearing hopeful requests and pleas meant for the lost deities. These powers would still whither and flee before the might of a true god. Still, even their limited blessings appear wonderous to the desperate and the accepting.”  

Neither of them seems desperate. Rahsaan thought to himself. As far as he could tell, Voriel couldn’t actually read his thoughts unless the Aasimar wanted him to know them. At least, that’s what the angel’s replies seemed to indicate.

“If the Gods are dead, then what killed them?” Rahsaan asked, now casting his gaze to the scarred altar.  "And how did you manage to survive?”  

Voriel didn’t respond immediately, but after a moment said, “I don’t remember. The mists still occlude my memory. That revelation may be discovered if our bond strengthens. And burning undead abominations with the fires of heaven may do just that.”

Rahsaan let out a huff, pushing himself off the wall as walked over to the knight and the gnome, standing between them in equal distance. It was time to speak with those who were not so eager for bloodshed.

“So, Voriel is convinced the Gods are no more- but after seeing the powers bestowed upon you, I am not so certain.”  

He blew up on the hair that fell over his left eye, which immediately fell right back in its place, “What did Ezra or Azilan do to reveal themselves to you? And how do you know it’s their will and not the will of another?”

There was a moment or two of silence before Eylylyn realized she'd been presented with a question. Looking up from her notebook she shook her head and replayed the last few moments of background noise in her mind, then focused on Rahsaan. She regarded him solemnly.

"Oh Azilan is far more than that. There are no gods. Not in the conventional sense of all-powerful beings having absolute control over their domains, sitting in lofty judgement above mankind."

She thought for a moment, reconsidering.

"Well, for the most part. There is strong evidence that sources of incredibly high metaphysical mass with powers over certain aspects or laws of life exist. It's my theory that in their primitive, ignorant bumbling with magic long ago some barbarian shamans must have become aware of these forces. Fearing and not understanding them, they formed cults around them. Over the centuries the belief of the followers and the supercharged magical energies intermingled and those forces gained some personality traits that you now ascribe to 'godliness'. So really the gods are more like the tides, or the changing of seasons: a vast powerful part of everyday life that follows its nature and nothing more. We're just along for the ride, for the most part."

She smiles sadly, almost seeming embarrassed to tell this to someone who speaks to an Angel daily, sparing a sideling glance for Sir Mercurion as well.

"Azilan is far more real. I can go to the Necropolis and..."

She cuts off, flushing. Then she waves her arm and conjures a floating image of a grand white city shining with golden light.

"Well if not for the mist we could go to the Necropolis. There you'd see the ruins of the grandest city ever raised. Even after the Requiem we have records going back centuries with the seal of Azilan unchanged through time. Probably the strongest proof of him is the Perfect Law of Azilan, still the ruling law in all Darkon. I even saw a royal decree with his actual signature once! We have first hand records of his words and deeds, as well as corroborating accounts from his students and advisors. My father is one such! I used to sneak into his personal library and..."

She cuts off again, face blanching for just a moment and cold sweat breaks out on her face. She flinches as if struck. Then as if nothing happened the enthused smile returns to her eyes and she turns back to Rahsaan, sweat gone so fast he might have imagined it. She looks around to make sure her friends are the only ones within earshot.

"It all happened well before my time, but he guides and shepherds us all still. Those who listen at least. That's why I was first in my class to master..."

She seems to notice the elderly priest nearby for the first time.

"Certain magics. It's a sign of his blessing! Or a residual holdover from my time studying..."

She frowns to herself, pensively scratching some thoughts into a notebook.

Izmark and the priest spoke in tensed hushed tones for a long few moments before Izmark gave a long sigh and turned to go to a nearby candle, light it, and begin to utter silent prayers.
The older and more heavy set Father Donavich did his best to re-compose himself and after a moment walked slowly over to the gathered group.

As he neared, he overheard sone of the last words of Rahsaan and went to speak, but held his tongue upon Eylylyn offering up her impromptu dissertation.
Upon her conclusion, he bowed his head and spoke, "Empty night-you truly believe that. For one so young, and so bright to have reached the point of having no faith in even the existence of the true Lord of the Dawn...times truly have grown dark."

The worn down acolyte coughs terribly for a few moments before he turns to look Rahsaan in his eyes, "Your search for the truth and the mystery of what happened to the gods I fear will not be answered here young master. Though this ground is consecrated and has been blessed twice over through the noble sacrifice of the Kolyanavich family and efforts of countless others who have long fought against the growing tide of evil-to create this lone bastion of defense, we have not received the gift of divine revelation in a coon's age. But it is a sanctuary for hope."

He reaches down amid some of the debris on the floor and withdraws a wooden hand carved holy symbol, bearing the sigil of a blazing morning sun. He concentrates for a moment and as he does so a tiny barely visible blue spark shoots out from the center of the sun. As this happens, there is a low pained moan from beneath the floor.
Sweat beads form on the rosy cheeked man as he strains himself. Finally, the lone blue spark is joined by several others that begin to alight the sun symbol and the sparks coalesce into a low golden yellow-white blaze of heat that emits a burst of sunlight that lights up half the room before burning out. There are panicked screams of surprise, pain, and outrage, followed by deafening silence emitted from the creature beneath. A single tear falls doen the man's face.

Father Donavich takes a deep breath and opens his eyes wiping the sweat from his head, looking between Eylylyn and Rahsaan, his eyes showing a burning passion that had been missing prior, "I know of no sorcery, no magic, no evil creature or other entity that would be willing to or capable of yielding their power to harm a creature of the night and also be able to cross onto holy ground. Even the Devil himself is unable to enter this place."

He wavers in his stance for but a moment as he says hoisting the symbol higher, "The Morning Lord is alive. His light cannot remain hidden." He raises his voice to a shout to noone in particular, "Forces of darkness are not welcomed here! We the faithful few will not go quietly into the night!"
His voice softens again, and he hoarsely says, "I mustn't-His radiant glory shines upon all. Praise him."

Mercurion hunches in one of the pews, listening to his companions and the mutters of the desperate Borovians. Presently, he removed his helmet and grinned slyly to the Nova Vaasan.

"Tell Voriel that it is alright that he does not believe in my goddess, for I do not not put much stock in him, either." He chuckled lightly and then raised an open hand towards Eylylyn.  

"And no insult intended, friend wizard, but your Azilan sounds like a potent magician and capable ruler, but... nothing more."

The knight paused; he may have been considering his words carefully. He may have also entirely lost track of his thoughts. Presently he roused himself and continued: "I do not fully understand the worshipful reverence you hold for this vanished king, but surely it seems to rival my own devotion!"  

The paladin stopped talking as Father Donovich ranted, railing against the forces of darkness. Then he resumed, shoulders low and head bowed. "As for myself, I am a simple brute that has been gifted the ability to perform minor miracles in the name of Ezra."

Mercurion's eyes were like dark amber, catching in the candlelight as he looked up at them, his lank face open and honest. "I can offer no explanation as to why I was granted the ability to work miracles. I was not a good or wise man, and I did nothing to earn my present role." The Borcan leaned into his companions, almost conspiratorially, thrusting his shaggy head forward.

"Perhaps it is all a sham, and there is some malign force stalking the realms, tricking us like a wicked puppeteer, but to that I say- faugh!" Sir Mercurion let out a warm laugh. "What is the use in believing in that? No, I choose to believe that my powers come from a positive, beneficent being, and I choose to act accordingly. Such is the very essence of faith, friends!"

“She seems to get it.” Voriel said, referring to Eylylyn’s explnation. “Well, as close as someone who never believed in the divine. I see why you like her so much.”

Rahsaan immediately realized his thoughts were not so private as he thought, but was welcomingly distracted by the father’s  discussion. As the light filled  the ruined chamber, the young man watched in astonishment, feeing something -  something warm, caring, merciful -flare within him, if only for a brief time.

Pale sparks?  Rahsaan looked to his own open palm for just a second, before his attention turned back to father Donnavich. After the conclusion of the display and Sir Mercurian’s explanation, he started, “ I might have been going about this the wrong way. I was thinking that the gods had to bestow their powers  upon their faithful, in order to further their cause. But speaking with all of you,” he looked each gathered in the eye, “regardless of your powers and their sources, you still perform in the services of your god, and thus further their cause.”

He looked particularly at the knight, “ You say you did not deserve your blessings?  Let me say I wasn’t chosen for what I was, I was chosen for what I could become. Perhaps Ezra, whoever she is, thinks the same of you.”


“What are you talking about? I came to you  completely because of what you are! If you weren’t half angel, I wouldn’t have ever bothered with . . .”

Ignoring Voriel, Rahsaan looked to  Donnavich, “As long as this church still stands,  than the Morninglord cannot be dead, not unless his own servants abandon him, and allow the light to be extinguished.”

While Rahsaan awaiting for their reply, Voriel  filled the silence in his mind with a quick gasp of realization, “Alright, so maybe the true gods are not all dead- but they are not close by.”

Rahsaan blinked twice.

“Uh, come again?” He said out loud.

The gnome turns first to Mercurion, shaking her head.

"I wish I could make you see it like my masters could. Your gods are all so lofty and far away,idealized personifications of mans highest aspirations. Azilan is real. But we don't worship him, or sing hymns to him. We follow him because it makes life better. Azilan needs no thanks for that. Indeed many good Darkoni follow one faith or another. I just don't see the point."

Eylylyn shuffled uncomfortably at the priest's display of faith.

His magic is strange... Azilan's eyes but Clerics baffle me! Why can't they just follow the same rules as everyone else?

She narrowed her eyes at the priest, suspicious.

"Your church still standing may not have anything to do with any god. Worshipers could have embued the ground with holy energy over the years, or it may be attuned to certain frequencies on the arcanospectrum, or perhaps it's just a confluence line of latent Radiance. What you call it doesn't matter any more than a sailor caught in a riptide calling upon some fictional ocean-god to save him. He'll drown or he won't depending on the tide whatever he calls it."

She turns back to Rahsaan, eyes betraying a hint of grief.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, but I'm not so sure I still even serve my lord. I left his service for selfish reasons when my superiors declined to help with a personal project. Granted, I'm not certain they were true agents of his will anymore, but that doesn't necessitate that my leaving is Azilan's will."

She looked up to his eyes, her own eyes intent but curious

"What brought all this up? Shouldn't someone who has an angel inside him be more convicted in his faith?"

The priest eyes widen at Mercurion for a moment, his voice now a bit more gravelly and hoarse, "Good sir knight-though you may possess a checkered past-it is the future that offers the greatest chances for redemption, do not let the shades of past action overshadow the light you seek. I believe you are onto something in your ideas on the meaning of faith."

Turning to face Rahsaan the man gives a nod of acknowledgement, "We will not abandon our post so long as I draw breath...though the cost of remaining does begin to weigh on the mind."

Father Donavich gives a look to Eylylyn, "To the man in the water-I believe it matters a great deal. His potential final moments spent relying upon his faith that divine intervention will bear him to safety...it is not easy. But you are mistaken if you believe it is the tide that determines his end-it is merely the tool. The decision is dictated by his God who might just as simply let him meet his God as reward for his unwavering faith, or have a passing vessel send a line out to save him for the God still has plans for the sailor."

At the wizard's last comment the priest spins to look back at Rahsaan and gazes between Eylylyn and back, his eyebrow raised, "An angel?"

Rahsaan looked to the Gnome Wizard to answer her question, but stopped to allow the father to speak. He looked his traveling companies, almost as if he had their reassurance. He gotten a different reaction from everyone in the group regarding Voriel's presence; what would a man of the cloth think about him?

"Yes, an angel." Rahsaan answered, trying to make his voice sound confident, "I don't exactly know where he comes from, but he has spoken to me  ever since I was a small child, hunting for discarded scraps on the streets of Kantora. Ever since I've left Nova Vaasa, he's been far more . . . talkative than before.  He said he's able to speak with me because I am of celestial descent."

Rahsaan nodded to the holy symbol that Donavich held, "He's even granted me a bit of his own power, which actually looks similar to yours."
He reached down and picked up a piece of wood- broken off from one of the pews- and tossed it high into the air. He raised his right hand, palm open, as a sphere of blue fire formed in its center. Once the debris reached its crescendo, Rahsaan gritted his teeth and squinted as the conjured spiritual fire leapt from his hand- streaking right past the plank and instead blasting the ceiling,  adding yet another hole and raining down dust and wood chips. His target fell to the floor, its impact just narrowly missing Sir Mercurion. Doing his best to avoid blushing he turned back to the father, giving a nervous smile, "But I haven't gotten much practice with it, yet."

He looked back to Eylylyn, "I am questioning what Voriel says because while he is wise, he is not infallible. He freely admits that the mists are hiding truths and memories from him. He also isn't a believer in mercy or forgiveness, so while he can provide insight, I weigh the words he says carefully."

He looked to everyone and said, "And . . . if he speaks to me directly daily, sometimes hourly- than I don't really need faith that he's there, do I. The relationship I have with Voriel is vastly different than  what you have with your gods. Or Azilan.  It's something that I wanted to try and understand better."

In response to the priest Donavich, Mercurion gave a small smile. "What is done is done, for better or worse. Though I do not seek redemption. My shield and sword belong wholly and fully to Ezra. The foes I wish to conquer, they are not in my head... they are external." The trapdoor thumped again. "And close at hand."

Mercurion watched the pyrotechnic displays with a crooked smile. As the flaming lights ebbed away, he shifted his weight on the protesting pew, the wood moaning in protest to lock eyes with Rahsaan.

"You speak of faith, but one does not put faith in angels, not truly. That is why your relationship is different. In the end, both mortals and angels serve as messengers, either for gods or for the ideals they serve." The paladin leaned back, his plate armor rattling.

"The real question is, do you have faith in whatever it is your Voriel serves? Are his precepts just, and good?"

Eylylyn nods to Rahsaan.

"I'm glad you're pushing to understand your power. No matter where it comes from, understanding it is the only way to have any control over it. In your case, that means understanding Voriel."

She looks as if she's going to say more, then stops. She thinks for a moment, then gets up and takes up the pieces of a broken holy symbol laying on the ground as she turns to the priest.

"With all due respect, father, I'm not sure that your display of power is any kind of affirmation. At least not in the sense you mean."

She holds the two pieces together at the broken seam and with a grunt and a flash of light fuses them together as if it was never broken. She holds it up to the old man, smiling gently.

"Miracles by themselves mean little when so many sources of power can produce them. I gained my powers through years of study. Sir Mercurion has the patronage of a higher power. Yes, you can do some incredible things, but that's not exclusive to your god or your faith and so it doesn't really make much of an argument either way."

She turns back to Rahsaan, eyes now intently focused on his.

"To that end, there are some questions you should be asking yourself and Voriel. What does Voriel want from you? Why is he working through you specifically? Do his goals actually align with yours? If so, what happens to you once Voriel gets what he wants?"

She puts her hands on her hips, smile now gone.

"And most importantly, how do you know you can actually trust anything Voriel is telling you?"

Rahsaan seemed thoughtful, preparing how he might phrase his reply.  Glancing between the knight and the gnome, he began, "I know what Voriel wants from me. He made his grand vision clear to me many years ago. He says it's my destiny to overthrow the wicked regime in Nova Vaasa, to expose the Lawgiver as the fraud he is. Voriel says that I am the weapon; the holy spear to be driven through the nations heart. He works through me  because of my heritage; he has no other option. I can assure you that an impoverished urchin is not his first choice. Nor his tenth."

He gave a frown, one tinged with disappointment, "But I do trust him. Without his guidance, I would have perished on the streets long ago.  But recently I fear he makes calls and judgements without weighing all options, that he is too hasty to brand others as irredeemable." He looked back to the trapped door, before facing his companions again.

His tone filled with resolve as he said,  "I do want to fight back against the darkness no matter where it may fester- I am not content to  hide in the shadows of an alley like a helpless child, powerless to aid those who depend on me, kicked around by the thugs who pretend to keep order. The wickedness infesting Nova Vaasa- and Borovia-  must be stopped."

He let out a sigh,  "I just wish Voriel could see there are other ways to fight evil than killing. Protecting, healing the wounded and weak- rallying crowds to action though deed and tale. Voriel believes the only way to deal with evil is to destroy it."

He gave a small, hopeful smile, "Though he may remember there is more than smiting- his memories are still lost in the mist. If he recalls where he came from and who or what he served- than he may reach his potential as I may reach mine."

He looked to Mercurion, "Does that sound 'good and just' to you?"