Chapter 28

Standing off to the side of the stone-laid street, the large half-orc throws back the hood of his coat, seeming to invite the rain to touch his face. Even in the dark of the night and hampered visibility of the rain, the resemblance between Gven and her brother is uncanny. They could have been twins for the likeness in their faces. He stands three to four inches taller than his sister and his shoulders are maybe an inch or two wider, but he’s only slightly more muscular. Both of their hair is dark and long, pulled into a single braid down their back—keeping it out of the way during battle. The visage of acceptance on Torp’s face mirrors what the group has seen on Gven’s face in moments of pensive uncertainty.

“You ask where I’ve been, sister. And I say, where have I not? I have journeyed far beyond any place I could have imagined. I have discovered much. I have found purpose.”

Gven is incredulous at his nebulous greeting, completely lacking in warmth for the deep sibling bond they once shared. “It’s been eight years, Torp, and not a single word. Eight years that mother and father, not to mention myself, wondered if you were still alive. And then a bard passing through The Badlands hands me your amulet honoring Gruumsh. Father carved that amulet for you, as he did mine, it’s our family’s symbol of survival and strength. It’s our bond.”

“As you can see, I have survived and I’m stronger than ever.” He pauses and looks up into the night sky, breathing deeply, feeling the rain on his face, and his mouth turns into a slight smile. “The amulet no longer served me as it was meant to. Knowing what it means to mother and father, I returned it to you, assuming my message was clear.”

“Clear? What the fuck is clear about sending your amulet to us, without any sort of message?” Gven shakes her head in annoyance and frustration, having finally found her brother, only to encounter this unexpected version of him. “Okay, so you found some sort of purpose. What…what exactly does that mean?”

At this point, Bilwin interjects “It’s wonderful, this little family reunion and you two getting to see each other again, but it’s kinda wet out here. How’s about we get out of this pouring rain and grab a beer, or three?” Dolor and Mond nod in agreement, while Grindlefoot stands there nonchalantly, completely dry in his new, very expensive and very weatherproof cloak and boots.

“But why would I want to do that?” Torp responds, once again looking up at the sky with a look that some might call nefarious. “I so enjoy the rain.”

Bilwin nods his head a few times, “okay, okay then, I think I’ll wait over here.” He, along with the others, moves to the other side of the street, underneath an awning covering a door into a shop that closed much earlier in the day.

“You ask how I’ve changed, to which I ask you, are we not supposed to change? Isn’t that what our Coming Out journey is all about? Are we supposed to remain the same forever, always seeing the world through the eyes of our youth? No, our tribe embraces change, and that’s what I have done. There are small people and big people in this world, many, if not most of them are merely trying to get by. Why is that? Why should the small cartographer’s shop struggle honorably to exist while the ignorant and lazy son of a successful merchant inherits wealth beyond what any one family can spend? I wanted to find out why. This doesn’t happen in our clan; we support each other regardless of the situation or people.”

Becoming even more frustated, Gven says “you answer questions with questions and philosophical musings. The brother I knew was pragmatic; he disliked the dogma of narrow perspectives. Speak plainly or not at all.”

“Ever to the point, sister. Subtlety was never your strength.” Torp grins, the first smile of his that seems natural.

“I wanted to improve the world for those who deserve it and that set me upon a journey, a very long…and strenuous journey. It took me to the open seas where our ship was set upon by an unnatural storm and thrown against a rocky coastline. Somehow, I survived the wreckage, the torrential downpour of rain, and drowning in the swirling currents of the water. I woke to find myself alone on a beach. It was on that island that I found my purpose. I found faith.”

Gven looks away, briefly making eye contact with Dolor. “Faith? That word is layered with nuance, and often used in questionable ways.”

“But sister, we were raised to stand up for what we believe in. What better reason is there than faith? In ourselves, in our community,” he looks at her intensely, “and in our gods. The people of Eritz need to feel that it’s okay to believe in the gods again. It’s their right to do so. It’s their faith that will once again empower the gods to make our world better, to right the wrongs we see around us. The gods will put us back on the path to happiness and equity. Without the gods, we are doomed.”

Gven takes in the monologue and begins to put together the pieces. “Ah, I see. You discovered Amonah.”

“Sister, I’m so proud of you! It was you and your group that infiltrated my warehouse.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Torp. We’ve been looking for you, following the leads as best we could.”

“Then it is a remarkable coincidence.” The muscular half-orc unconsciously stands a little taller, naturally resorting to an intimidating stance. Unmoved, Gven holds her hands up at her sides, ambiguously refusing to answer the threat.

With a new fire in his eyes and energy in his demeanor, Torp continues, “It’s time for a return. A return to the way things ought to have been after The Conflict. The gods will be felt again. I was given a vision during my time on Amonah and the magic users are to blame. Because of their selfish, unchallenged desire for power, we live in a world of inequity and suffering. The gods will fix it!”

Gven remains silent, leaving the space open for Torp to continue. The intensity seems to drain from his eye as he says, “suffice it to say, you should leave. My love for you is greater than you know, but it’s obvious that you aren’t ready to join me. Yet. But you’re drawing unwanted attention to the work we’re doing. I’m here to bring the gods back to Elsemar. Once their rule is established in the city, they’ll launch their campaign to reclaim the whole of Eritz.”

“At what cost, Torp?”

“At any cost. Whatever is necessary. Perhaps you need to travel more, to see more of the world. It’s filled with villainy, hardship, tragedy, loss, and greed. We must be rid of magic and its practitioners if we’re to make the world a better place. If you were to experience what I did on that island, perhaps you could understand. Regardless, you must leave Elsemar…or I’ll be forced to deal with you.” He finally looks at the others standing across the narrow street, “and your friends, in a permanent manner.”

Looking downward with resignation, Gven says “I can’t support you in this…endeavor. But, I will try to understand it.” Her companions look slightly alarmed at her subdued response, although Dolor appears less surprised and more contemplative.

“I appreciate that, Gven. You will always be dear to me. That’s why I came to meet you in person to ask you to leave my affairs alone.”

“Are you asking me as Torp…or Davanor?”

With a sense of finality and looking directly into her eyes, “they are the same.” Torp suddenly shifts into a casual stance and his presence becomes less intimidating. “When you return home, please tell mother and father that I’m fine. You are all dear to me and I don’t want any of you to come to harm.” As he turns to leave, he punches her softly on the shoulder, as the younger siblings used to do. “Be safe, sister.”

As Davanor walks off into the dark and rainy night, Grindlefoot strolls over to Gven with a sad demeanor. “I hate to say it, but your brother is a zealot. Let’s get back to the ship and some much needed rest. You need time to take this in before we discuss what’s next.”

When they arrive at the Iron Vulture, Dolor wisely asks Captain Don, “can you secure the ship for the night, so that no one can come aboard without us knowing?” With a glint in his eyes and a flourish of his long coat, the captain hurrily scurries around the ship, turning dials and pressing buttons. He turns to Grindlefoot, “aye, me boyo, let’s get up that mast tae the craw’s nest. An’ dinnae ye be stragglin’!”

Other than a minor incident of the wind almost blowing the small halfling off into the harbor, the two make it to the crow’s nest. Pointing at two levers, Cap’n Don instructs Grindlefoot to pull on one while he pulls the other. Requiring a bit of effort, the levers move slowly into place and from all around the ship, things begin to move. Varying lengths of metal rods shift and adjust, some growing in length while others spin around. A thin metal netting begins to lift from the starboard and port railings, rising all the way to the top spar of the main mast, encasing the vessel. Looking up, the companions see a tall metal rod extend from the top of the main mast, 30 feet higher into the night sky.

Returning to the helm, the captain exclaims, “an’ noo we see!” Within moments, a loud booming thunder erupts from the sky along with a jagged bolt of lightning that connects with the metal rod extending from the main mast. Immediately, they see the metal netting begin to shimmer and glow as though lightning were running through it—because it is. Cap’n Don pulls a sausage out of his coat pocket—which the others no longer view as curious—and tosses it at the netting. With a loud crackle, the sausage sizzles and falls to the deck, obviously cooked through by some sort of intense heat. “It wirks! A’m gonnae ca’ this a fire-at-nicht cage! Wid ye like a sausage?”

Bilwin looks around in astonishment. “You’re an artificer! It’s truly magical!” Extending his magical beer mug to the group before taking a lengthy drink, “A toast to your brilliance, my fine captain!”

Feeling safe onboard the Iron Vulture, the adventurers retire for the evening, each taking their turn at watch. In the late night, early morning, during Mond’s watch, the ravaging storm finally begins to abate.

Long rest….

Physically rested, the group wakes the next morning and proceeds to discuss their options. Dolor and Grindlefoot point out that Davanor clearly stated his committment to genocide. He blames every single magic user for The Conflict and believes he can bring peace to the land by exterminating all of them.

Gven contemplates the path her brother has taken and despite her conflicting feelings, she’s determined to stop him. “We should consult with Tella. His involvement with the Heart of the People give him knowledge and a perspective that will be useful.”

They arrive at the Broken Spy Glass mid-morning, after the breakfast rush. Seeing the group and their obviously burdened demeanor, he asks Rightside to watch the bar while he takes them downstairs for some privacy.

Describing the previous nights events to Tella, they reveal Davanor’s true identity as Torp, Gven’s older brother, and his zealously motivated plan to rid Eritz of the magically arcane. “I see. And now his chosen name makes more sense. In the old tongue, ‘davan’ means ‘to pray’ and ‘or’ loosely translates to ‘to light.’ He is literally praying for the light. For the people to be saved, to bring them light in these dark times. It’s obviously a warped reasoning for genocide, but it appears he’s a true believer, the most dangerous kind.”

Dolor says, “he seems to have an affinity for water. He didn’t want to get out of the storm last night, in fact, he removed his hood and seemed to relish being bathed in the rain.”

“Before The Conflict, Elsemar was the seat of all the religious orders and their considerable power; just as the arcane sects were centered in Mirganor, on the east coast. Each of the two groups controlled their city in their own ways, yet it was well known who controlled which. When the battles were over, the Eyes of the Star and the Hand of the Wand did their best to disperse the groups and their overwhelming power in the two cities. But, change never comes quickly—that is, until it does. Elsemar still leans heavily towards the religious deities, just as Mirganor retains a large concentration of those who embrace the magically arcane.”

“If your brother has an affinity for water and he encountered a god in Amonah, it could be that he came into contact with B’raq, the god of lightning and storms.”

Bilwin jumps up suddenly, “that’s it! It was upside down!” From his pocket, he pulls out one of the coins they discovered in Davanor’s warehouse and puts it on the table. “We were looking at it this way, but if I turn it upside down, it’s B’raq’s symbol!” He turns the coin lying on the table so that it resembles the letter M. “I should have seen this sooner. I must need more beer.”

After a short discussion, the group sees two options available to them. They can remain in Elsemar and fight Davanor directly, openly opposing his schemes. Or they can try to find Amonah and understand the bigger picture. If they take the first path, the gods are likely to find another fanatic to take Davanor’s place. The second option seems like the one most likely to arrive at a longer lasting solution. It’s also the more dangerous.

“If you choose to search for Amonah, you must ask Karnahge for assistance. There are few in this world whom I would trust with my life, but he is one. You will find no better captain upon any of the seas surrounding Eritz.”

With that, the group decides to leave Elsemar as soon as Captain Don deems possible, assuming he agrees to take them. A question that makes Tella laugh, knowing his friend’s penchance for the unknown and adventure. Tella instructs them to reach out to Brooj, the loxodon archivist at Elsemar’s Hall of Records, when they return. He will know how to reach Tella in ways that are less obvious than the Broken Spy Glass.

“I will supply the Iron Vulture for your journey. Tell Karnahge to expect the porters in a few hours, so that you’re ready to sail by mid-afternoon. The sooner the better. Tell the harbor master that you’re headed to the Northlands. It’s a regularly traveled sea route for both passengers and trade. No one should suspect subterfuge. Only Davanor might suspect your true destination, but it sounds like he wants Gven to go there anyway and won’t disrupt your departure. Be safe and take care in your travels, my friends.”

Synopsis:

• Gven reconnects with her older brother, Torp, and discovers that he has become a zealot for one (or more?) of the old gods. He was lost at sea, saved by the gods, and brought to the island of Amonah. There he was taught (indoctrinated) that magic users are the ones who caused The Conflict, they alone are to blame.
• Torp returned to Elsemar using the disguise of Davanor, a Damian, with the goal of genocide—to completely eradicate magic users from Eritz.
• Davanor warns Gven and the others to leave Elsemar now, if they want to live.
• Gven and the others return to the Iron Vulture, where they realize that Cap'n Don is an artificer as he turns the ship into a faraday cage to protect them during the night.

Long rest....

• They go to the Broken Spy Glass to consult with Tella. Talk and stuff....
• In the old tongue, "Davanor" has special meaning: "davan" is "to pray" and "or" is "to light." Torp took on the name as a symbol for his prayers bringing light to the world.
• Elsemar was the seat of the clerical power in Eritz and Mirganor was the seat of arcane power.
• The group decides to set sail for the old, unknown island of Amonah and investigate where Torp learned about the gods and turned into a zealot.
• They tell the harbor master that the ship is headed to the Northlands to trade, as a way of throwing Davanor off their trail.
• Tella will give them supplies for their journey.
• They realized that they were viewing the holy symbol upside down. Turned 180 degrees, Bilwin recognized it as the symbol for B'raq (similar to Talos?)
  
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