Lovejoy — Roleplayer Guild

Sapharan High City, capital of Lanostre, Magnagrad

Warband Phoenix... Father Creid's newest crop of heralded inquisitors. Like many of her order, Elisheva had heard rumors of the recently ordained warpriests who fought under the Brave Man's Fear's ethereal bird banner, and Father Cillian himself, who had been placed under her charge had often spoken of the raw skill that many of them showed during training exercises with his own Warband Leviathan, but the two young women and their childish infighting were doing everything in their power to dash the hallowed reputation of their famous fraternity into the mud.

Elisheva sat on the dusty old couch and observed the clash between Mother Tatiana and Mother Astraea. She was tired, wounded and pissed off. Cillian had been gutted open under her watch and now she and these three rookies were the only inquisitors left in all of Lanostre to deal with this mysterious threat. They had very little time for... whatever this was. 

"I am outvoted by my group but I would give you the same warning. Would you really feel easy knowing that a single slip and you would find those creatures you faced today tearing at your flesh?" Astraea told her as she exited the house, not bothering to wait for a response. Galahad and Tatiana left the house soon afterwards, leaving Elisheva alone to stew in her quiet desperation.

Much like Elisheva, the silvery-haired R'heon seemed to be utterly exhausted, dark circles wreathed her eyes, and there was pain in her voice that was raw and red. Whatever recent hurts the Lanostran had suffered, Elisheva could feel them clouding the young woman's perspective on the mission. When faced with enemies like the ones who had ripped open Cillian, suitable weapons were needed. Mother Tatiana was a suitable weapon.

The wound on her chest stung as a cold wind blew through the now empty house. Through the open windows she glimpsed the sky, a pleasant powdery blue, and wondered how such a violent night could give way to such a beautiful, serene sight. Her thoughts returned to the massacre, all those young T'saraen men and women, lying butchered in the snow. Elisheva's ragged breath misted in the frigid morning air as she collected herself before rising to her feet and making her way out of the house.

When she stepped foot outside, Elisheva glimpsed Tatiana and Galahad walking toward the stable.

Tatiana's pace gradually declined, but the young girl didn't seem to spare a glance back towards her dear friend. As the two proceeded along, Tatiana momentarily held her tongue. Galahad's gentle beration had settled some of her anger, but she was still displaced, unwilling to completely give in and apologize, and by no means was she ready to turn back.

"Then come with me. We're strong enough to manage— you know that. This is my area of expertise, Galahad." She momentarily locked up after her response. Galahad's tugging on her hand was enough to will her alongside him. Perhaps she was a bit apprehensive of her original plan for one reason or another. Either way, she surely didn't intend to make her friend mad. Tatiana knew she wasn't one to plow through legions of men by herself, but with her demon at her side facing other beasts of the Black Glacier, she had no fear. Either that, or she was blinded by her progenitor's vocation. The research of the Glacier was her father's primary work. It was his legacy. Things were finally starting to make sense to the girl. The entire scenario was so clear, but the maelstrom of her internal thoughts seemed to prevent her from consciously comprehending it. She didn't want to understand the ordeal.

"Lead on."

Elisheva couldn't hear the rest of their conversation, as the small transmitter attached to her collar began to buzz with static.

"Speak," Elisheva demanded. 

"Mother Elisheva. There has been an incident at the Leviatan manor."

The Varyan inquisitor's eyes widened in horror as she listened to the report. Mother Tatiana's father, a heralded scientist, was found dead in his home. Elisheva looked on at Tatiana and Galahad, who were standing near the stables, the morning's first snow falling gently around them. The two of them seemed to be arguing, but Elisheva was focused directly on Tatiana. Did she know? No, the girl had seemed untroubled the first time Elisheva had laid eyes on her.

It was then that Elisheva remembered. 

Father Dara.

Her former Seraph warbrother... and current king of apostates. Dara had studied with Tatiana under Mother Indira for many years and together, the two of them were the only graduates of her heralded Summoner's Circle. The two fledgling summoners shared a connection, and Dara had last been seen in Lanostre, where gruesome reports had come in of his demon, the shadowy black dragon he had wrested into submission all those years ago, being sighted massacring hunters in the outskirts of the queendom.

Could Dara have been responsible for the murder of Tatiana's father? Elisheva's heart filled with sorrow for the girl, and unhealing wound that Dara's disappearance had rended within her long ago began to bleed anew. 

She was making her way to where Tatiana and Galahad where walking when a boisterous crowd of what looked like rowdy Lanostran natives suddenly marched onto the street, flooding the open promenade of the city center. There were about a hundred men and women altogether, all clad in the armor of Lanostran soldiers, but one glance at them and Elisheva could immediately tell that those marching weren't career fighters. No, these were merchants and artisans, townsfolk and militiamen. At the head of the crowd stood a man and woman, their composure and countenance immediately marking them apart from the rest. Elisheva could immediately recognize them as the only actual warriors in the band.

As the crowd surged onto the street, a line of Varyan garrison soldiers formed up and halted  their advance.

"Let us through! We demand answers!" a voice cried out from within the mass of people before being drowned out in a chorus of angry yelling.

"Halt! Halt!" a Varyan soldier demanded.

One of the leaders turned around and, without much effort, pacified the crowd. He was a broad-shouldered man, shorter than any Lanostran Elisheva had ever seen before, but the warrior was sturdy and well-muscled. He wore a suit of armor covered in faded emerald scales and black fur. A thick bramble of red braided hair covered his lower jaw, and his bald head was covered in faded scars.

"I am Thanasis, Commander of Legion Agarem, and this one is Phaedra, Admiral of Legion Ilpharos. We've come to the capital to seek an audience with whoever rules here. I know not who you Varyans have sat on the throne these days, but whoever they may be, we must talk," the bearded one spoke, his voice as still and calm as a frozen lake.

Commander Phaedra stepped forward, fury flashing in her eyes. The head of Legion Ilpharos, which once comprised Lanostre's former navy, was a storm of anger and seething frustration. She was an older woman, approaching fifty, Elisheva estimated, but her age did nothing to hide the former admirals's ferocity. Phaedra wore a suit of light armor made up of what appeared to be the bones of nautical beasts. "Coastal villages have been attacked by a new breed of demon, and now there's been talk of the T'saraen garrison being slaughtered. Your puppet government has ignored the Lower City for long enough. The Lady as our witness, you will part before us or you will bleed," she growled, striking the bottom of her harpoon into the snow.

An angry roar resonated from the crowd and they rushed forward a few steps. It was only a show of strength, and the terrified Varyan garrison, made up of young inexperienced conscripts, responded in kind. They raised their rifles.

"S-stop where you are!" a Varyan soldier yelled, her voice trembling.

Elisheva quickly approached Galahad, who stood alongside Tatiana watching the commotion.

"Father Galahad. These are your people. Your father led them. You know them better than I ever could. Do something about them," she told him. As much as she wanted to deescalate the situation herself, Elisheva was a Varyan inquisitor, and thus was probably the last person this crowd of angry Lanostrans wanted to talk to.

She placed a hand on Galahad's shoulder and leaned in close, so that only he could hear.

"Mother Tatiana... Something happened to her father. I understand she is your companion and you will want to console her, but you must deal with this first. We might have a fullblown riot on our hands if we don't treat this delicately."
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