Alhvaharyis - Cease Fire
Alhvaharyis followed Draza closely. He could sense there was something in the air, tension. He could glimpse some form of confusion within the cathedral. Determined, he took the final step that would bring him closer to achieving justice throughout the world --
-- and was promptly blocked by two guards. They looked possibly more distressed than Alvhaharyis himself.
The first of the two, who had been so prepared to block the ogre hesitates and allows his friend to take the lead this time. "Halten. What business have you here?"
Alhvaharyis blinked. He had been so focused on what he would say during the negotiations, envisioning how events could play out and the outcome of each variable that it hadn't even occured to him getting in would be an issue.
"I am with the Queen's Blades, the diplomatic party dispatched here," he said, doing his best to recover stride, "and I would be most appreciative if you gentlemen would allow me to carry out my duty."
The second guard looks to the first, "You hear that Rochard? This fellow is trying to bullshit his way into the meeting."
Rochard, his compatriot chuckles and adds on, "Who in the Nine Hells is he trying to fool, with that get-up he has on. Not the usual uniform, mind you. Must make him pretty important, Tritan."
Tritan the guard nods slowly, "Look, fellow, I don't know how many times that line has worked in the past for you, but you are not getting past us. Official meeting, no papacy bastard is getting in to ruin this or slip anyone poison."
Alvaharyis' eyebrow twitched. He took a deep breath and harkened his mentor's words. "Eviscerating annoying plebians is not a recommended course of action, Alvhaharyis. Think before acting."
Well, perhaps those hadn't been his words exactly, but it was dangerously close to what he, for a brief moment, felt like doing. Instead, he forced a half-smile.
"Herren," he said, mellifluously, "do you not think, were I a Papacy agent, I would have arrived better prepared? Do you not think, perhaps, I would not let two guards," great stress was put on the word guards, "stand in my way, were I a skilled Papacy assassin? Do you not think, perhaps, I would be in there already, waiting, poised, for the right moment to strike? Nay, I am here before you: perhaps, if you doubt my words, one of you could fetch Sisera, or the other members of the Queen's themselves. I am sure you know of them -- as I am sure, being gentlemen that know the ways of things, you realize they would not be pleased, knowing you were impeding the sacred duty of a man in which the authority of the Renaltan nobility has been invested. Herren, let us realize who the true enemies are here."
Since the emphasized word of 'guard' left Alvaharyis' lips, both of the men were on edge and thoroughly unamused. As he continues, Rochard steps forward abruptly and, too slow to react at the skilled nature of the Templar guard, Alvaharyis is captured in a hold, an armoured arm wrapped around his neck and pressing loosely. Alhavaryis would notice a chill run through him and a faint disconnection, as if something were taken from him, he recognizes it instantly for what it was... The special ability that made the Templar so effective against mages, their anti-magic defenses. "I am not sure who you are kidding, but we are the authority here. We are set to defend this door and keep any trouble makers from passing. And you... Are a fool for venturing here, to this land, to this very church, and implying that you are of a peace party while wearing those garment. Make passive threats again, and they will be the last words you utter." He releases Alvaharyis, shoving him forward, "Get your ass in there, cause any trouble, know there are more than a number of Templar who will strike you down before you can plead mercy."
Alvaharyis coughed and stood, rubbing his neck. "Gentlemen, you have my apologies. Perhaps I did not convey what I wished to say in the most appropriate of manners. These are dark times, and in dark times men speak rashly." He stepped past them carefully, into the church, then couldn't help but add "I am pleased to see the Templar order continues to uphold its standards of rigor."
Once inside the church, Alvhaharyis looked around. It truly was a god-forsaken place. Nothing like the grand cathedrals he had practically been raised in, all marble and gold and men in expensive clothes, no, this was the shadow of the dream of greatness. There were cracks along the walls, and light shafted in, dust motes dancing in the spot-light. His eyes, however, were immediately drawn to the table, where a number of very important looking men were seated. Gahrul was by Sisera, which releived him, and Draza seemed to be speaking. The reactions were favorable, as far as he could tell. He nodded to himself. Alhvharyis knew she would have been a valuable asset to the team.
With every step closer to the group, Alhvaharyis would feel the increasing stifling powers of the Templar. One on one, there did not seem to be much effect, but with so many present in such confines, it would seem they were creating an entire magical deadzone. Further inside, he would spy a staircase, not just any staircase but one so well crafted it was simply a testiment to Rheinfeld craftmanship. In fact, if he was not mistaken, he could see the holy symbols of both the Mother and Father ingraved upon the elaborate hand-carved railings. Alhvaharyis had a very perceptive eye indeed. As for those gathered, it would seem as if all were swept up in the words of the diminutive master of speech. Everything was going on swimmingly without him, apparently.
Deciding it was best not to intrude with Draza's speech -- there was nothing he could say to assist the situation regardless -- Alhvaharyis instead casually put his arm around Lotharr's shoulders and with the other gestured towards the staircase in question. There was no doubt in his mind this one was the staircase that would lead to the archers.
Of course, Lothar would know nothing of the nest of archers that the staircase would lead to or even that the staircase might lead to a balcony overlooking the area outside. Hopefully, the young Rheinfelder did not just come across as if he were looking for a private place to be alone with the Wolff heir.
Lothar looked at Alhvaharyis as he indicated toward a stairway. It was likely a suggestion that they should explore the area a little bit and maybe even patrol. However, there was one thing that struck Lothar. With his limited magical capabilities. He could sense the stifling presnece of the Templar's. However, two "auras" stood out in the church. One was Sisera, who practically radiated magic from his body. He was obviously a very capable magician. Then, the more striking aura came from the Leader of the Templar himself. Although it wasn't as impressive as the smoke mage, he himself had significant reserves of power that was more than average. This struck Lothar as odd.
Alhvaharyis tilted his head towards the staircase. "There are archers above us," he said, quietly. "Be prepared. I do not know what to expect."
Lothar whispered back "It will look suspicious if we just leave in the middle of the meeting. But, the situation seems a bit strange. The Leader of the Templars... he is emitting quite a bit of magic. Perhaps we should let the others know?"
Alhvaharyis grinned. "Renaldo is as much of a mage as I am. He is most likely shitting himself. Further, the leader, as with the other men, seem to be quite keen to listen to what Draza has to say." He patted Lotharr on the back. "Come now, I'd say this is the best moment for us to enjoy a stroll through this filth-ridden wreck of a building."
Lothar shook his head and whispered "Discretion my friend."
Nearby, one of the Republic lets out a low hiss, "Just like a priest to think even a long-standing holy place as this is beneath him because it is not pretty enough. Bite your tongue in the future."
Alhvaharyis chuckled. "My friend, I am no priest, I have seen how corrupt these so-called holy men truly are, yet even I can appreciate the grandeur of the Papacy's churches. It seems to me this place has seen better days... centuries ago."
If the Republic Chosen Guard member had hackles, they would be raised at the comment. "Listen here, it was not until a raid by the Papacy months ago that this place was so badly damaged. It was a sight before then. Wealth does not make everything great... But a snob like you would be hard-pressed to understand." His eyes seem far off as he looks around. Just from his reaction, Alhvarharyis could tell that the fellow held great pride in the place. Perhaps he was a local, or maybe he had done work here in the past on the building. It was hard to say.
"Vielleicht haben Sie Recht," Alhvaharyis mused. He clapped the man on the shoulder lightly. "Fear not: soon, I will personally see the Papacy's grandest churches burned and reduced to nothing but rubble. This place, on the other hand, will still be standing. Mayhaps a sign of great construction, yes?"
Lothar interuppted the two and said "Peace, brothers. This is not a war council. I expect nothing but friendly discourse."
"What is more friendly than contemplating the blood of your enemies running through the streets, Lothar?" Alhvaharyis' smile was wicked.
The Republic man relaxes, but gives Alhvarharyis a somber look, "They are our kin, our countrymen. Their blood is the same as ours, though we may hate to admit... Remember, not all men loyal to them are the bastards that have poisoned our lands." He shakes his head and abruptly resumes his attention to the table as Davian strikes it.
"These men disgust me." Alhvaharyis aimed his thoughts at Lothar. "I find it only weak... the Papacy has proven time and time again it is the apex of human scum, yet here they speak of pity, and mercy. I have no intention of showing them either, come the time."
Lothar thought back "The people under the rule of the Papacy is not the papacy itself. It is... dangerous to consider both as one entity."
"I lived there," he snapped. "I am fully aware. No, those who are not priests are sheep, allowing themselves to be guided by a shepherd-butcher. That, perhaps, is an even greater sin. To live your life belatedly, never questioning, passively accepting any abuse thrown your way: this cannot be called living. It is why I am here. I am here to end this perverse cycle, and if it must end in fire, in fire it shall end. They shall be the fires of liberation."
Lothar shook his head and thought "Although I do not agree with living in ignorance, there is a reason as to why people say that ignorance is bliss and people like them choose to live in that blissful ignorance. It is easy to accept, especially when you believe that you have no power to change anything."
"And tell me," Alhvaharyis replied, in bitter triumph, "is that not the greatest weakness of man? The chains we bear because we choose to bear them, brought of our own stagnation, our inability to take control of our lives and define who we are? Is that not the greatest weakness of man?" He turned aside and shook his head. "This is pointless debate. I feel uneasy here. Something in the atmosphere is tense still."
Lothar nodded and thought "The fact that the Leader of the Templars can use magic is worrying and you claim that archers are above us... this entire meeting has forced everyone to cluster in this smallish church. This just feels wrong. For now, let's go by the stairs and lean on the walls nearby, but divert our attention back to the meeting so that it appears that we're just finding a more comfortable place. Then after a little bit just go up the stairs.I don't want to draw too much attention and make the people present annoyed."
Alhvaharyis nodded, curtly. "Lead on."
Both of the pair make their way to the stairs with no problem whatsoever. In fact, it would seem almost as if no one even cared. Sisera even gives a small nod of acknowledgement. After all, their point of being here was not just simply to oversee the treaty.
Going up the stairs, they will come to a crossroads. They could clearly see the way to the balcony outside, but extending both to their right and left were paths along to different rooms and across the open area where they could see straight down to the meeting still, there would be an almost mirror setup, save for the gateway outside. They have the choice to check the rooms or simply go outside and have a look around.
"I say we check the rooms first," Alvaharyis thought.
Coming across the first room, the duo carefully attempt to open the door to peer inside. Lothar slips through into the room where a single man sits in the center of the room, hunched over and praying at a shrine. Alhvaharyis in his attempt to move closer to look stumbles and knocks a table. Barely a noise, but it was enough to stir the elder man from his position who looks back. With a croaking voice he inquired, "What do you want with an old clergyman? The Gods have long since left... No one comes here anymore but wayward youth..."
Alhvaharyis was quick to raise his hands in a deferential gesture. Keeping his voice low but respectful, he replied: "We apologize for intruding upon your prayers. I did not realize this place was still inhabited... but tell me, Priester, who do you pray to? The gods will be hard-pressed to listen."
His face scrunches up for a moment as if it truly was something he had never thought about. After a moment the old man shrugs, "It is all I know. And though the Princess... Queen now... banished our gods, they may someday return... Faith, I must have faith." He nods and turns back to his small altar.
Alhvaharyis nodded to himself. "Perhaps if the gods do return, they will dispense justice, and your prayers will be answered." To Lothar, he thought: "Let's try another room."
Lothar nodded and left a parting message "Father, there are those who still believe despite the... recent departure of the gods. Faith is what will lead those who still believe to a bright future." as he began to step back towards the door in order to begin searching another room.
Alhvaharyis frowned at the last statement, but said nothing. He found it impossible to believe in gods weak enough to be banished by a mortal, but the mysteries of faith were something for him impossible to comprehend -- and he had learned questioning them would often earn you a one way ticket to finding out. Instead, he followed Lothar.
The next two rooms they come across have doors wide open and are absent of any life. Stumbling across the third, the door is locked, but Alhvaharyis, pressing his ear to the door can hear the faint noises from two sets of voices... Which would be better left unsaid. Apparently not everyone held respect for the gods or church still. Upon the fourth door, however... Opening the door, they find themselves staring directly at three armoured men, before either Lothar or Alhvaharyis can even react, one darts to the window and lets out a whooping call. The next thing you know, a shrill high-pitched shriek courses through the air followed by a thunderous bang and the screams of someone crying "Traitor!" from the archer's nest. The enemy was within the church.
Alhvaharyis' eyes widened. Drawing from his gut, animal instinct that rose within him that moment, he channeled his magic. He focused on the confused rabbit inside him and willed the soldiers -- the papacy bastards -- to feel the same.
Feeling Alhvaharyis' sudden channeling of magic, Lothar understood from Alhvaharyis' thoughts that he was trying to make the three men feel some sort of primal fear. If Lothar were to notice the three start wavering or show any signs of major fear, then we would use his unique ability to command the three to surrender. If the three were not affected, then Lothar would rush to the man with the mace who was half hanging out the window and try to push him out so that we would fall out of the building.
It would seem Alhvaryis was finally getting some luck as all three of the papacy's men begin to react. The two mercenaries each appear low in will as they begin to go into a sheer panic, fumbling with their bows to nock and aim. One manages to only spill his own quiver and become a sobbing mess. The metal armoured whistle blower, wide-eyed with terror appears to look for an exit to escape the unknown terror. He spies a ledge outside to make his escape and wildly makes a jump to it. Just barely, he makes it outside, armour scraping against the stone and hands clawing for purchase.
Seeing his opportunity, Lothar roars " THOU PLOTTING, DECEITFUL BASTARDS! LAY DOWN THY ARMS AND SURRENDER OR ELSE MAY THE GODS HAVE MERCY WHEN THOU ART SMITTEN"
