Just Telling a Story

Seeing that the two sons of the Innkeeper were not being as forthcoming with information as anyone would have liked, Rahsaan smirked as he heard their mother voice her displeaure about the regime.

"So I take it the Lawgiver isn’t popular around these parts? Well it turns out I’m not too popular with them. You see, they’re mad at me because I exposed them for the liars they are when I broke into their worship hall back in Nova Vaasa and defiled their temple."

Seeing that he had the children's attention, Rahsaan continued:

"Earlier that day,  I noticed that several guards had cut off a section of the city block where the Church of the Lawgiver stood, acting like they were hiding something. It had stormed fierce the night before, and a couple of even the rich folks houses had lost their tops. So, with my friend Chime, we snuck out that night and headed to the church sieze the opportunity. Once we got close, it looked like it was struck by lightening the day before, because the front corner had been blasted away allowing something with enough finesse a way to overcome the barred door. It was clear why they had wanted everyone to stay away; having one of the most fancy buildings in all of Kantora damaged would send a message the Lawgiver wouldn’t want. Still, considering how much they tax the workers and their families, I thought there had to be something worth alot inside. So with Chime keeping lookout, I hopped over the wrought iron fence and slipped inside its newest entrance."

"I’d never actually been in one of the churches before. Yeah, the services were “mandatory” every Saturday, but unless you were one of the nobles rubbing elbows with the clergy, way too many folks skipped for that to be enforced. In the main worship hall there weren’t any seats, so I think everyone was expected to stand the whole service, facing this stained glass picture of a faceless king holding out his arms over a throng of groveling subjects. Below that hung their holy symbol, a black iron spear set against a silver tower shield by bronze coils. I’ll get back to that later. But seeing that the hall was empty, I saw a stairway that led to a trap door on the ceiling. I climbed up and poked around. I must say, this attic was everything the worship hall wasn’t- dusty, filled with broken crates and torn linens. I thought it was quite fitting personally, them hiding all the muck where people can’t see it while they keep acting all holy."

"But a glint caught my eye among the refuse: left forgotten under a fallen table, I found this."

Rahsaan held up the tarnished mask that hung around his neck for the kids to see.

"My first thought was how many loaves of bread I could sell it for, even if it was a bit rusty. But little did I know that it was a magic mask. For when I placed my hand upon its surface, I was imparted wisdom far beyond my years."

He narrowed his eyes as he hid it back behind his shirt, “And you should both know sorry, it was one time use. It's a keepsake now.”

"But one of the truths bestowed upon me was that the Lawgiver was a false god, that he is nothing more than a lie dreamt by supposed priests and inquisitors- an excuse to oppress the poor and downtrodden, torment those who eek by on their meager possessions.
There wasn’t anything else that great in the attic, though I did pocket a few rusty nails because those can be so useful when running from someone. But I remembered the mantle down below. I thought if the priests were so nervous about a leaky roof they'd shoo away a whole block, than I couldn’t wait to see their expressions when they realized their altar was missing its centerpiece."

"So I strolled back into the hall, walked right up below the spear, and knocked it from its resting place."
He gestured to himself,
"As you can see, I’m still in one piece from my encounter defiling the worship place of a cruel deity. That proved to me once and for all, The Lawgiver is a sham and all those who carry out his will are cruel and terrible."

Anyone else overhearing the story realizes that Rahsaan was using words well outside his normal vocabulary- as if Voriel had helped him what to say.

Aspen had grown disinterested with the raucous young boys once they'd let on about their next target. Rahsaan's story, however, drew her attention.

When the boys scampered off, she approached and crossed her arms, looking skeptical.

"What possessed you to doubt your deity so thoroughly that you would defile their place of worship without a second thought? Was Voriel with you, hinting that the Lawgiver was a sham?"

She tilted her head to the side and furrowed her brow.

"How long has Voriel been with you anyway? Why does an angel choose someone like you, no offense, to possess?"

Rahsaan took a sip as he finished the tale and with the mug still raised to his lips, he met the Tabaxi's gaze.  He lowered the drink and said,  "I thought mentioning Voriel would make me go on a whole other branch, but yes he did urge me to steal the spear. When I touched the mask, that was when he introduced himself as an angel and separate entity altogether. Before I thought he was just my conscience. Though I learned from others that their's usually are not so talkative."

At the second question he thinks for a second, "With that in mind, I guess he has been with me my whole life. At first he was gut feelings and brief, fleeting peices of advice.  I think this mask did something to strengthen our connection, kind of like reading celestial for the first time in that house did it again.  It awoke a part of him. And he didn't really choose me, it was more he did not have any other choice. Angelic hertitige is a rare thing, rarer still in a land where making sparks shoot from your hand is a death sentice."

He leaned forward for another sip and said, "You really like to leave no stone unturned, huh?"

Zoe motioned to the innkeeper’s wife and ordered herself a drink.

“I’m just trying to figure you...two...out.”

She nodded her thanks when she received her drink.

“I think I trust you, Rahsaan, but I have doubts about Voriel, though if he is like your conscience, it seems like it’s an all or nothing deal, but...”

She paused remembering one of his stories about Voriel telling him to leave a friend to save himself.

“You don’t have to do what he tells you to do, right? And can you control when he takes over?”

The Tabaxi looked intently into Rahsaan’s eyes as if she was looking into his head.

“Could I talk to him now without all the pomp and circumstance?”

Rahsaan gave a frown, "I wouldn't say what happens is possession, regardless of what the others call it." He looked to Gohzrick and Eylylrn for a second, and turned back to face Aspen, "I would call it more a, 'meeting of the minds'. I do not have to do anything he says, but he does enable and aspire me to take action when I otherwise would not."

He swirls the drink in his cup and continues, " And it is possible to speak with him directly, but that is more of his decision if he wants to speak with y . . ."

The monk had been talking to his drink as he replied, but he stops in place as his brow furrowed deeper, his expression now a mix of curiosity and a hint of irritation. He exhaled and said looked Aspen dead in the eye, all friendliness and compassion drained from his own as he said "And what is it you want to ask me that Rahsaan could not answer?"

Aspen set her drink down slowly and turned her body toward Rahsaan/Voriel, visibly unshaken by her friend’s immediate change of demeanor.

What she wanted to ask was why the being had a celestial stick up its angelic ass, but she decided to play nice...for now.

“The same things I asked him. Why did you choose Rahsaan of all people or did you even have a choice in the matter? Why would you prompt him to steal the spear, knowing it would put him on the run from the Lawgiver?”

She strongly considered her initial question once more.

“And why are you so pissed off all the time? Seriously. Chill.”

Keeping the demeaner, Voriel replies without even as much as a pause,

"I did not have a choice appearing before him. When I first came to Rahsaan, I did not realize it was because of his angelic heritage. I was formless, having lost my physical body, and lacking the strength to form a new one. What he allows me to do is influence the physical world by channeling my spiritual essence. Otherwise, I am a forgotten spirit trapped deep within the mists."

He looks at Malahjai, who is seated across from Eylylyn, "Or, mostly forgotten."

The angel focuses again on Aspen, "I told him to steal the spear because he was terrified of the Lawgiver. He was already on the run from their guards well before then. Stealing from passerby and merchants, breaking into houses, arson . . . he was a criminal in Kantora. What I gave him was the ability to fight back, instead of just hiding in the shadows. The Lawgiver fights through fear and manipulation to prevent uprising. His life was miserable, he knew it was miserable, and I offered a way to save him from all that."

He seemed caught off guard by the last question, giving an amused grin, "It is hard to remain 'chill' when there is treachery and evil behind every corner." He gave an askew glance to the drink he was holding, "A celestial cannot find distraction in such mortal pleasures. We must act according to our purpose, and being unable to complete that purpose leads to what can be interpreted as . . .vexation."

Voriel watches her demeanor intently, seeing if it softens or grows more hostile.

The Tabaxi’s face is set as she listens, though it softens ever so slightly, much to her dismay. She hardens it again before continuing.

“So are you actually trying to help Rahsaan or are you just using him as your puppet in this world? Sometimes your actions may benefit him, but is that your actual intent?”

She looks closer into his eyes. He sees a mixture of sadness and concern in her yellow cat eyes.

“Or do you feel personally responsible for eradicating all evil from this earth?”

Voriel actually gave a slight chuckle- which did not sound anything like Rahsaan's and instead like someone faking laughter without ever hearing it before. "Now, eradicating all evil from this realm is a tall order indeed. But I believe I was sent to this world in particular as the corruption here seems to be festering particularly rampant. Rahsaan allows me to fulfill my purpose, and I instill him with purpose greater than fighting rats over scraps of food. From my perspective, I would call that aid."

With that, after inspecting the drink, Voriel took a sip, swished it around in his mouth once, before spitting it back into the mug. "This is what you mortals drink?" He coughed. "Give me the water from the river Styx any day."

He then asked, "What is your purpose, Aspen?"

Aspen felt foolish when he laughed at her question, but when he spit out the drink, it was her turn to laugh.

She picked up her drink, chugged the rest, and slammed the mug on the counter.

“We don’t drink it for the taste, friend, but it does the trick.”

She leaned back and smirked.

“And besides, if you’re only responsible for this area, I don’t see why a big, powerful angel spirit like you would need alcohol anyway.”

With the angel’s last question, all humor drained from Aspen’s face.

“That’s a good question...”

"Ah, so you are unsure." Voriel said, leaning forward to take another sip absently mindedly, before remembering the taste and pushing the mug away from him.

"I may not be able to bestow upon you the fires of heaven, but that does not mean I cannot help you at all. You confided to Rahsaan that your father was taken from you unjustly. And from the time traveling together, you have demonstrated how fast you are with that bow. Do you venture forth to right the wrongs set against you, or seek to help others who have been wronged? Do you have a family remaining back home, and only by striking down the devil of this realm will you reunite with them? Do you seek glory for yourself, and in turn may inspire others to similar feats of greatness?"

Having laid out his suggestions, he awaited her response.

Aspen looked down at the counter and sighed.

"I've given up on ever righting those wrongs. Nothing will bring my father back."

She took Rahsaan's drink, since Voriel wasn't drinking it, but just swirled it around absentmindedly without drinking it herself.

"Honestly, I left home to help people like Rahsaan. People who are unjustly pursued by tyrants. People who were framed for others' crimes."

She motioned toward the town square and lowered her voice.

"People who were condemned to death for stupid reasons."

She laughed and shooked her head at his last question.

"I don't expect anyone other than the people I've helped to ever know my name. There is no glory or inspiration in my future."

Voriel nodded and then shrugged, "Hm, well, I tried. Rahsaan, you're turn."

Rahsaan blinked twice before he said is his usual softer voice, "See? He is not death and righteous destruction all the time."
With a genuine smiled he added, "Are you so sure there is no glory to be found helping those beneath you? The poor and downtrodden may not be able to pay you or share valuable treasure, but people would still talk. Take it from me, you never forget those who help you. Also, it seems to me that you had the courage to travel off alone on your quest to help, which is something I could never do."

He looked at the mug that was now in her possession, eyeing it thirstily.

Aspen shrugs and orders Rahsaan another drink.

“You don’t want this one. Voriel spit in it. Apparently it’s beneath him or something.”

She eyes her friend curiously as he drank his drink.

“So, were you aware of that entire conversation when it was taking place? I guess so, based on what you’re saying now. Even if there is glory in what I’m doing, I don’t care about that. I’ll just sleep better at night knowing someone that was wrongly sentenced gets to go back home.”

When the boy mentions being unable to leave home, she gives him a gentle smile.

“You’re still young, Rahsaan. Give yourself some credit. You’re out here now. That’s what matters, right?”

Thinking back on all they’ve faced together she shakes her head.

“Though I’m starting to wonder if leaving home was such a great idea to begin with...”

"Voriel's spit is still my spit, is it not?" He then paused, "Hm, never thought of that before."

Regardless, he was not going to complain about getting a free drink, even though his pockets nearly burst with more money he had ever held in his life.

"But yes, I know that Voriel said, it is kind of like remembering a dream from the night before. I do not remember the specifics, but I can recall generally what he said."

"I suppose I am trying to say this: The only way I got out of the hole in the wall I grew up in was Voriel giving me a kick in my pants. You left your house with a sense of justice of writing wrongs, and if that is not a sense of purpose, I do not know what is."

As the drink arrives, he takes hold of it and says, "Plus, if you never left your home, all of us may have perished in that haunted house. It was not my idea to jam those whirling blades of death."

“Ewww! Even so, do you want a drink that you spit in?”

She nods as he explains what he remembers and shrugs when he mentions her sense of purpose.

“I feel like my purpose now is to help keep you all alive. I’m certainly grateful not to be facing the world alone anymore.”

She glances over at Gohzrik and shakes her head.

“Speaking of keeping people alive, here’s hoping for a quiet evening, seeing as how one of our strongest fighters is currently drinking himself into a stupor.”