Carmen Friston
In the heart of Helvetia's capital city, Carmen Andario Friston dismounted from his horse and walked through the front gate of the luxurious brownstone building ahead of him. He carried himself calmly and dignifiedly, though he often scanned at the nearby vantage point as if worrying over an ambusher or the pursuer. The most advanced city in the entire continent did not have an inch of its grass unlit by their exquisite lighting system, but Carmen knew Sinners and Heretics alike only fear God's light, not the one made by men.
He stopped for a moment. To breathe, and tip the large-brimmed galero that he had personally stylized with black feathers and some slight turns-up on its side brims. As he straightened himself, his posture, coat, and hat gave him the silhouette of a ramming battleship.
With a thoughtful push, so he would not disturb his brother and sisters resting in the dorms on the second floor, he opened the door. At the end of the room, he saw someone kneeling on the altar.
"It is me, Archbishop," Carmen said. "I am sorry, I did not know you were praying."
The man wearing white vestments stood up and turned back at him. He was smiling. Archbishop Saunière was his name, a saintly man who provided him a sanctuary during his stay in Helvetia. The one that held a respectable position in the Synodal but chose to not meddle in the so-called high politics, and would rather focus on the real problem, like the disappearance of Paladin Thomas. An idealism Carmen held in high regard.
"It is alright. I pray for you." the elderly bishop patted his shoulder and continued raspily. "I presume all went well with the meeting?"
Carmen knew he didn't have to show it, but he showed the authorization letter anyway, like an apprentice showing an achievement.
"A lot of hearsay I heard about this particular woman, but it was too easy." Carmen felt a slight pang, it wasn't that easy, and some tense words were exchanged, but it was no use to burden the Good Man in front of him with unimportant things. "It is all because of your blessing, and prayers. Thank you, Archbishop."
"Thank me not, My child, for it is by God's will our plan proceeds smoothly. Come, let us meet with the others."
Our plan...
Carment fought a rising feeling of trepidation as he followed the aged Archbishop through a dimly lit cloister. It was still an overwhelming realization that He and The Archbishop were the only people who cared enough to arrange a rescue plan for Paladin Thomas. He had heard about the situation on Sielse and the need to act cautiously. Oh, he heard it right, and Cardinal Senaux sounded like The Council's spokesperson when he delivered it. Shameful excuses, really. Since when did the Glorious Order of the Golden Sun have to bow down to a man-made organization and let itself be dictated by their whims? It all made no sense.
The cavernous hall was still part of the temple building. Built on its right wing, and although the architecture feels ancient, still gave off the impression of splendor. It was lit by four crystal lamps imported from Varenheim, and its walls were adorned with paintings of saintly people of the past framed in gold. On the northward of the hall, there was a large circular window in the shape of a golden sun, and below it seven panels of long windows of stained glass incorporating chronological episodes of Areston Lydus's ascension to glory. Helvetian Clerics named this place The Hall of Glory. A name that was somewhat grandeur but aptly described the sublimity of this place in just the right amount, one that didn't rouse greed; an abundance that makes you appreciate the blessing from God.
A long table had been situated in the middle of the room. Under it, a red carpet had been laid out to cover the shiny marble floor beneath, and on top of the table, modest food and drink had been served.
In that room gathered seven people. Some Carmen had the pleasure of making acquaintances, while some he never met before. The former would fit in the manifest without raising too much suspicion, while the latter... even he himself would presume that they would cause that elf woman he met before going ballistic.
He could see where her concern came from, but Carmen needed all the help he could get.
"Evening, Ladies, Gentlemen, Brothers and Sisters In faith." announced the archbishop, his tone was less formal than usual, probably to make those unofficial Pontifical Gendarmeries feel at ease. He soon walked closer to the table, took a goblet of clear-colored wine, and offered a toast.
"Thank you for allowing this old me to have one or two words," he said, then continued solemnly, almost like a sermon. "The preparation of this mission has been completed, Tonight We shall feast and savor our drink, just like Hero Areston Lydus feasted with his party a day before embarking on the journey to defeat evil. Let us rehearse The Revered's path, and may God grant us the same blessing he Granted for The Hero, for our mission is the noblest, and the intentions are equally commendable; to help the need and banish the evil. Amen."
"Amen."
Carmen raised his stemware and emptied it in one gulp, and as the warming feeling from the wine radiated throughout his body, he felt his pride swell. He had heard many rousing speeches, but never in his life he would imagine hearing the most impactful in a lonely hall with a handful of brethren. Now he feel like Areston Lydus himself, and he wanted the mission to start now.
But Carmen was sober enough to restrain his impulse. But one could wonder where that heart-punding zeal came from.
Was it because of the wine? He glanced about and his gaze fell on a young-looking girl wearing an oversized red hat and a veil. Funny how centuries ago those getups would earn her trouble with the Inquisitors, but today she was treated as a guest of honor.
"Quite a kick, wasn't it?" The casualness of the sentence startled Carmen a bit, but he always appreciates on-point language than one that is unnecessarily flowery. The bishop gestured at that strange girl and introduced her.
"Miss Amanaita has been supplying our communion wine for years, and the congregation likes it. The taste is unique, yet the proof is not as strong as the red wine. I told her about the mission and she seemed eager to help us, so I thought, why not?"
Archbishop Saunière then gestured toward a young blondie with luggage that seemed too big for her small frame.
"Meet Miss Linceleste York. Miss York had traveled from Kindeance to Helvetia on her own. Usually, I would send her back, but apparently, his Father was one of the followers of The Order's teaching, and apparently Paladin Thomas's niece. She will go with you on this mission."
Finally putting down his goblet, Saunière patted Carmen's shoulder and bid a goodnight at the party.
"Tomorrow morning you will depart through the Secret Path under the monastery. Not even The Council spies know where it leads to. May your path always lead toward righteousness, my Children."
Then The archbishop retreated back to his chamber, leaving Carmen with his soon-to-be companions.
Besides the two strangers earlier, there were also familiar faces like Baroness Carnatia de Valmont, a nouveau riche whom, as that elven Case Officer suggested earlier might or might not be here for Casterdiar's interest.
Then, there is Mirielle. One of the Archbishop's bodyguards that in Carmen's opinion would fit more in an Inquisitional position.
Beside them. There are also hired men at arms, Each with their unique quirks that at first glance felt almost too overwhelming for him to process.
There was Ludvig Morsanqvist, a charming escape artist who seemed like he would be more sucessful as a theatre actor than a hired adventurer.
There was also Sten Rezello, a run-of-the-mill Westernant mercenary who looked pretty normal except for the sinister broken mask he insisted on wearing all the time.
And last, but not least, Osric Griswall. A local blacksmith and self-proclaimed inventor, who didn't seem bothered to make himself appear more presentable entering the place most would deem sacred.
Like he had assessed before, all with their own quirks. But he wouldn't complain much; no thanks to that troublesome Case Officer, they had wasted weeks hiring and un-hiring candidates for this mission, and this was his last straw. He had insisted that they had no more time to spare, and had told her that the order would send their Pontifical Gendarmeries with or without her approval, Council's opinions be damned.
And it somehow worked, and he got what he needed. The Council's approval, and most importantly, the communication devices that he could use to try to contact Thomas once they arrived in Sielse.
Of course he knew the elf wouldn't just hand out such devices without ulterior motives, but whatever it is, the benefit is far greater.
"I am sure some of you already know me, and some are not, and for that, let us start anew." He began, and to those he had not yet introduced himself, he placed his wide hat on his chest and bowed.
"My name is Carmen Andario Friston, pleased to make your acquaintance. Please feel free to enjoy the feast, and if you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask me."
It would take 40 days from here to Seielse, enough to get to know each other, But it wouldn't hurt to start at this very hall.
