Semi-Angelic Proclamation

Voriel’s three eyes opened together,  the angel feeling more rejuvenated than usual. Alone in his misted realm, he could not help but recount the day with satisfaction The dragon was dead. None of the mortals were dead. His name- partially at least- had returned to him. His elation ebbed slightly as he psyched himself for what needed to come next.

If it’s no longer hidden from me, no sense hiding it from them. They must know the truth if there is to be any trust.

He prepared to enter Rahsaan’s mind, to request borrowing his body so he may explain himself to the others. However, he got no reply from the Aasimar. After a few futile attempts, the angel realized his pupil was asleep. Actually, all of them were except for Aspen who was on watch. And the Tabaxi almost always went first, so they would not be roused for some time.

He was about to resign himself to waiting for dawn, but then realized there was something in particular he wanted to address with the Ezra worshipers. And they would  be comfortable receiving portents in their dreams, right?

Let’s see if I’ve still got it.

Though still asleep, one of Rahsaan’s eyes snapped open, peering directly at  Mercurion. The gaze held for a few seconds before it closed and the monk rolled back over unaware.

In whatever dream Mercurion was having, or even if he was just lying there still awake he hears Voriel say, “Greetings, Unbribable Borcan. There was a matter I wished to discuss regarding your goddess, and my feelings toward her.”

He paused, “Though is there anyway you may be able to connect us and Zahrys together? He should know about this, too.”

Mercurion stood in the solar room of a castle, brush and palette in hand, poised before an easel. He carefully regarded his work, a disconcertingly fetching bullywug maiden frolicking amid a sunlight woodland full of toadstools and widowberries. Overall, he was pleased with the results, but the paladin was having trouble getting the shade of the widowberries just right; he could not remember if they were a deep claret, or more of a burgundy.

"Greetings, Unbribable Borcan. There was a matter I wished to discuss regarding your goddess, and my feelings toward her.”

"I am glad to speak of the peace and security the goddess provides." Mercurion calmly put down the paint and washed out his brush in a nearby a goblet before downing the contents in a single gulp. "But know that I am uncomfortable doing anything beyond this, regardless of your... feelings. I am not willing to play matchmaker for the object of my worship. And I think your amorous intentions towards her would be rather disrespectful, even for a being of divine essence such as yourself, considering that you deny her your faith."

The Borcan waved around the room in a way that was vaguely dismissive.
"I can tell the anchorite of your intentions, of course, but I doubt Zahrys' answer will be any different from my own."

Voriel let out a full bodied laugh as the haze at the edge of Mercurion’s vision coalesced into his now familiar form of an extra-luminous Rahsaan.

“I’m not looking for romance from Ezra. Though if I change my mind maybe the cleric would be willing to introduce me.”

His smile flattened as he continued, “I want to make it clear I have no doubt that Ezra exists, just as I suspect you realize I am not a figment of Rahsaan’s imagination.”

He looked at the painting, “Just as I hope your artistic talents are not a figment of yours.”

Facing the knight he says, “Though as Ezra is a being of purity and hope, I thought you might have hesitation trusting a  supposed angel who isn’t leaping at the chance to serve your god. Particularly after my rather unwholesome display fighting that fiery wyrm.”

He stepped closer to the Paladin, in a voice he certainly  hoped would be interpreted as playful, “I can explain all  of that. I just need you to promise to hold off trying to smite me until after I tell of my account.”

"I don't particularly care. You, Aspen, the Darkonian and the birdwarf all seem to be accruing and losing maledictions faster than I can count. However, that does not blemish your soul! You accursed folk fight alongside me against the creatures of the night. For now, that is enough."

"As for you being a supposed angel, well... we shall see about that. I more than half suspect that Rahsaan is the imaginary member of your duo, now. But this topic is tiresome, which is rather a feat, given that I am already asleep."

The Borcan snapped awake, sat up, and wrapped himself in his blanket against the chill of Argenvostholt. Then he remembered something, struggled free of the blanket, replaced his horned helmet on his head, and then donned the blanket again. Mercurion got up and crouched near Zahrys, his whispered words accompanied by jets of steam that escaped his faceplate:

"Wake, good anchorite. The angel wishes to explains his faithlessness and ask for pardon."

Zahrys wakes with a start, steam flying in his face!

Attack!

“Oh, it’s you,” he begins as he quickly realizes it’s his friend. With a good natured and slightly sarcastic smile he continues, “Do you always wake people up with your helm still on spouting steam? We are actually resting so it’s alright if you take it off until needed.”

“But what can I help you with? I know it must be something as you’ve never woken me up unless it was my time for watching the perimeter or time to wake in the morning.”

“He woke you because I asked him to. And because he was nice enough to do it.”

Though Rahsaan stepped toward the two Ezra devotees, it was the voice of his angelic guide that escaped into the frigid air as he spoke.

He nodded to them each in turn,  “I want to explain my position as to why I don’t plan on submitting to your goddess. For even if there is disagreement, that does not mean there is doubt and distrust.”

He stood up straight, as if  addressing a large crowd, “ Put simply, I cannot have ‘faith’ in a deity. At least, not anything like yours. The entity you truly worship is what your god chooses to reveal to you. The faith you have in Ezra is the acceptance that you cannot understand her fully, but still trust that she will guide and aid you, should you stay in her good graces.”

He shook his head,  “An angel cannot do that. I can’t just choose what aspect of a god I like best and serve that whilst enjoying all the powers bestowed upon me. It is not the same kind of servitude you mortals commit to. What would happen is that I would become an extension of your deity, a mouthpiece, a tool for her to use to enact her will. The power of her presence would mold me into the likeness of her image. In effect, I would cease to be me.”  

Quickly adding as if he was expecting an interjection, “That isn’t to say I just want to do my own thing. My reservations has to do with my true purpose.”

“I couldn’t fully explain myself until recently, when I remembered I did not directly serve a god before arriving in the mists. I did serve under the archangel Uriel, as a member of a celestial choir who assisted not just one, but a multitude of lesser deities. Younger gods are frequently targeted by devils and other wicked deities, lacking their own forces to protect their followers . My kin would come to their aid, driving back the enemies they could not vanquish. Then, the fledgling powers of good may have a chance to burn as bright as possible.”    

He clasped his fist into his palm, shaking for emphasis, “That is who I am: the Inferno of Potential. It may just be a part of my real name, but it also reminded me of  my purpose. It is not enough that I aid the followers of one god- I must be able to answer the cry for aid from whoever may need me, whoever suffers at the hands of evil or is powerless against the wicked. Whether that be a tenured cleric of Ezra, or a street urchin just trying to survive.”

He looked to the two men, seemingly more focused on making sure Mercurion is not reaching for his blade. “So, are you put at ease?”

Zahrys understood the tense look on Rahsaan/Voriel’s face. It’s one he wore long ago when he finally told Gerard he’d begun following Ezra. That long ago day when he’d not know how much Gerard had actually hoped Zahrys would do exactly that.

He still never got to tell me why! He’d looked at me at first as if he’d just swallow me while before breaking into a grin and telling me how happy I’d finally told him. What was his reasoning to speak out against all gods when he’d really been speaking out against the evil gods and beings such as Strahd?

Before speaking, he laid a firm hand on Mercurion’s shoulder, being extra careful not to cut and poison himself on the devout paladin’s armor.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve told us this. By seeking to help all the goodly people around you, you may not be serving any god directly, but surely you are serving Ezra regardless. As a benevolent god in a whole group of gods, Ezra does desire followers, but our Lady of the Mists is still pleased by those who serve her even if not in name. Who you choose to serve is your affair, and while I will always want you to be devoted directly to Ezra, I believe the desire to actually help the good people in this land who actually need help to be one of her highest tenants.

“Falinar, who taught me when I first really started studying Ezra told me that I advanced faster than anyone he’d taught before. He told me it was exactly the same desire you’ve just expressed that allowed me to do so. He taught that Ezra wants her followers to strongly oppose evil and take care of those who are helpless.

“Living by her tenants, I couldn’t forsake a street urchin who I could actually help any more than I could forsake the upcoming battle with Strahd despite that it may be the last thing any of us do.

“Do you fear something due to your refusal to serve Ezra directly?”

Mercurion listened, a bit confused. He was glad his companions were getting along, rightly enough, but some of the behavior of the alleged angel somewhat perplexed and rankled him.

"So, answer me this, Voriel: in the unlikely chance that Rahsaan isn't some demarked partition of your own fiberous brain, would you deny him a chance at Ezra's mercy? You retain some degree of freedom from the gods, whose authority you fled from, yes, but at what cost to the Nova Vaasan's soul?"

He glanced from the monk to the cleric and then back again.

"I also do not wish to sound hardhearted, but I find your piety regarding the Morning Lord to be quite inexpalpable. Zahrys and I work miracles before your eyes constantly- indeed, I have healed you from grievous poisoning not a fortnight ago, and Zahrys more recently than that. Yet some solitary act by a backwater priest makes you murmur words of devotion to a scarcely established cult?"

In response to the cleric's question, Voriel let out a sigh, "Yes, actually. The only other organized religion I've spent any amount of time with in this realm is the Church of the Lawgiver. And the second you showed a moments hesitation about following their ways, they would plan your execution. To them, disobeying the Lawgiver's will is the highest form of blasphemy."

He folded his arms,  "I didn't think Ezra would command either of you to do anything that extreme, but  given my unfamiliarity toward her, to be perfectly honest there was an air of uncertainty explaining my position. That's why I was holding off having this conversation until I had a good handle on my memories."

He turned to the knight, "The light show Father Donnvich performed back in the village did instill me with a sense of familiarity, almost as if an aspect of what this cult worships did exist among the pantheon I am familiar with. Whether I am right about that or whether that god even knows it is being worshipped here . . . that I cannot say.  But otherwise, I don't feel too strongly about the Morninglord. Though regarding Rahsaan's faith . . . he might do a better job explaining that than I."  

Though he didn't actually change height, the monk's form seemed to still diminish, golden pupils bleeding back into his eyes. He blinked twice, giving a questioning look to the two men before he shook his head, "Alright, I am caught up. You want to know why I chose to serve the Morninglord? The answer is . . ."

He paused, and then with a smirk added, "I am not."

He touched the symbol around his neck, which began to shine on its own accord, "I appreciate all the miracles, I really do.  But for the people of Barovia- for now- the Morninglord is the god they are most familiar with. Until they are converted, I thought passing myself off as one of their clerics may be helpful."

With a slight chuckle he adds, "Because if Aspen can preteeeeeeeeeeee . . ." He caught his words, staring right at Mercurian, "Er, what I mean is, how hard can convincing the faithless be? I can perform minor miracles of my own, or turn into an angel if needed."

He put out the light and said, "Because if I did want to follow Ezra, she would ask me to do certain things, would she not? You do not just get your miracles for free, do you?"

“I can’t speak for Mercurion and his experience, but Ezra hasn’t demanded anything of me that I hadn’t already intended to do or wouldn’t have intended to do,” Zahrys began carefully. “Her tenants line up with my ideals. Furthering her will, and you yourself know she is real, furthers the cause of good.”

He pauses for a moment to collect his thought and then sighs, “Rahsaan, I guess what I’m really getting at is exactly what I told Voriel. Serving Ezra doesn’t always happen only by those who speak her name and pray to her. Those actions do please her and maybe even help gain her favor. I share Mercurion’s puzzlement at some things you do. I would of course love to see you following our Lady of Mists purposefully. That being said, if your desires and more than that your actions continue to aid us in this fight with an evil more profound and oppressive that’s anything I ever imagined, then I can accept though maybe not always approve of these choices and ideas.

With a more serious gaze than he’s turned toward his new allies he thinks He just must not turn out anything like Velda before saying, “Where my opinion of what you’ve said would take a sharp turn is if you start using your talents at the expense of those who are helpless.”

Mercurion got a bit excited when asked about what Ezra would ask of the Nova Vaasan. "She would ask that you stand forth against the legions of the night, that you spread her name to the unfaithless and innocently ignorant, that much I know. But hear me, friends- the church of Ezra is young, not yet established in these lands. It is possible, nay, I say, pliable, that her revelation to us is ongoing. We may be her voice, as well as her sword and shield!" He was no longer speaking in quiet, measured terms, and the paladin pointed a finger at the monk.

"You say that you are not faithful like us, and you are right. And you are wrong. My old governess always said that faith isn't about the knowledge that a higher power exists- it is trusting this higher power to sustain you, to guide you to a better future!" Mercurion shrugged beneath his blanket. "The astonishing supernatural powers are just the cream on top."

In the brief silence that followed, the Borcan caught his breath, before saying, gently, "perhaps this is why you were decanted into this land? Whatever vile designs Strahd and his followers may be used to good, yet."

The young man's expression actually seemed genuinely invested on what his friends said of their goddess, but when the Borcan gave his thoughts on their arrival in Barovia, Rahsaan's face grew noticeably more clouded as he seemed to remember something, " Oh, yes, about that. Voriel did not want to say anything further on it until he was certain but I want to see what you two think."

There was a slight pause, then Rahsaan frowned and said to neither of the two Ezra faithful, "You said you wanted there to be no doubt, right? Then let me tell them."

He took in a deep breath of the icy air, and redirected his focus back to the other two men, "I was actually born here in Borovia, and my parents were most likely members of the cult we discovered the remains of in that cursed house. At the very least, the Durst's assisted them in some way, promising I would not be born twisted like Izek."

He looked at his malformed arm, "For all the good that did.  But based on what we found in the house, Voriel thought she either made a mistake or some force of good intervened, and I was born angel-blooded instead of whatever the cult needed. That same force might also have spared me from the werewolf attack that killed my parents, parting the mists allowing  me to leave Barovia."

He looked back to the other two, "That was, until he and I discovered Izek was not cursed by Strahd or anyone else for that matter. My brother actually had the blood of a phoenix. Instead of relief, Voriel grew concerned that the Durst's actually wanted angel and phoenix blood, and that I was no accident. More worrisome, he thought my escape to Nova Vaasa and my return could similarly be calculated, either by Strahd or someone else . . . unfriendly. The blood of the holy can be used for extremely potent- and evil- rituals and enchantments, or that's what Voriel remembers."

He then shrugged, "Though I think Voriel is just being worrisome. Strahd destroyed the cult, so I thought- maybe- the Durst's were actually trying to sabotage him. Intentionally or not, they did bring an angel and a phoenix into his realm."

Seemingly changing gears entirely, without as much as a pause he then looked to Zahrys and asked, "So I know why the Porcupine knight serves his goddess, but what made you follow Ezra in the first place?"

At first, Zahrys looked surprised by such a simple question he just hadn't expected. He figured he should have and paused to gather his thoughts.

"Well, at first it was just that the tenants of Ezra line up with my own personal convictions," Zahrys began. "A childhood friend's father was a cleric of Ezra, though he focused more on the healing arts. He noticed me speaking to my friend, Velga, one day of my beliefs. He told me that it sounded like I too believed in Ezra. I told him I had no clue what an Ezra even was. He just laughed before telling me a little about who she was. Soon I was starting to learn simple cantrips. I struggled at first until I actually began studying her actual teachings. I was starting to master simple cantrips and learning more difficult spells. I'm still learning more about who she is, but I get the idea she's less worried about simple flowery words and more concerned by action."

Rahsaan let out a longing sigh as the cleric explained the origin of his devotion, “Must have been a pleasant place where you were from, if there were others who believed in helping the needy and poor.”

“Where I grew up, The Lawgiver taught that those born into poverty deserved it, that it was their God’s will that the poor serve the rich. And if you did not in life, you would toil for eternity in the Hell of Slaves.”

Rahsaan rolled his eyes, “Though my friends and I joked it was hardly a threat; It could not have been much worse than how we lived already.”

He then suddenly had a look of realization,  
“And by the way, unless they were eaten by werewolves, there are still some goons of the Lawgiver chasing after me from Nova Vaasa.”

He reached into the robe’s deep pockets and withdrew a rust-tarnished  silvered mask, as well as a spear bound to his belt whose black tip was hidden in tattered cloth.

“I think it is because I stole these from one of their churches, messing up one of their holy displays in the process. Do not really know why they went through the whole trouble of chasing me to a whole other country. These items do not seem to do anything. Those following do seem limited in the miracles they can perform, if you can call it that. Certainly nothing like your, Mercurion here or even myself. Still, their arrows can be sharp.”

Putting the items back in their place he said in a tone that seemed unusually tense, “So it is all well that Ezra cares about the poor and weak, what about the rich? Or rather, those who lord their station over their subjects, who feast on fresh meat while the townsfolk starve and die from sickness?”