*cut to another scene in Hedrad*
The lateness of the hour, nearly started the Revered Son out of bed, as the knocking on his door awoke him. Arton Fenmark was fearful, afraid of getting caught in a most compromising position. Of course he wasn't the only one...Roland Bylar was a cousin of one of the more wealthy shipping merchants, and not to mention Arton's long time lover. In city that not only frowned on displays of any emotion, such things as two men were seen as a special perversion. Arton had prayed daily, in the weeks after he'd met Roland, but all it left him was a feeling of emptiness. While the Lawgiver hadn't removed his favor from him, Arton did feel like his god was punishing him. But each time he held Roland, or they embraced, it was one of the few times Arton felt. Between adminstering justice and keeping the peace, Arton had little in his life to feel good about. Such an act would surely see him punished. But so far Hedrada hadn't not seen fit to do as he had done to his high priests whose wives had turned their heads. "Perhaps that is why Hedrada hasn't spurned me." He thought dressing himself quickly as Roland slide nimbly down the wall of his home, into the precisely order rose garden. "While I care for Roland, such attachtments have yet to keep from my task as a Son of Justice." This insight pleased him as he opened the order. There stood his manservant and what one might consider confidant, the older genetleman Calas. Beside him was one of the guards of the watch, Justicar Ivor Ironwood and more of a suprise, the chief Justicar, paladin Revos "The Hammer" Kornos. Rarely graced by such dignitaries, the Revered Son almst went white with fear. But he controlled himself "Facts before supposition" he reminded himself. "What brings you here at this late hour gentlemen? I don't like being disturbed as you know."
Revos frowned, apparently not liking his sharp tone, perhaps even suspicious. Regardless, the other guardsman spoke "Forgive us Revered Son, but I came and alerted them, and they came with me. News of most dire nature. Brother Tirerias has been murdered! Dismembered and slain inside the Vault!"
At this Arton was shocked, but not completely surprised. "The fool! Always messing around with stuff we had not business knowing about. The Slacerians are dead! Let's leave it at that." Arton though was sorry to see him go, in the sense his dedication and drive were inspirational to many. Tirerias had traveled the length and breath of Ghelspad in his day, mostly as a researcher into various topics. He would be missed "The Lawgiver send him rest. Dismember you say? So there's little chance of him of returning to us?" The guardsman nodded. "Aye Revered Son. I know how little ressurrection magics are used, save in cases as this. But I'm afraid the Gatewatcher has some how claimed this one and sent him onward to Hedrada" He made a ritual gesture in honor of both Gods. Arton was a little disturbed by this ritual, even though he himself knew of Nemorga, a strange god of the dead and death. "By Hedrada's great wisdom, I wish I knew why such hersay is still allowed." "What of his pupils" Arton had a special interest, since the forsaken elf and that strange blue shaded goblin had often rubbed him the wrong way. He tried not to let such emotions get to him, but he felt by divine sense, there was something not quite right about them. "They are alive my lord, and apparently unharmed." "Hmm...Well then we'd best get started. I do require some sleep however. We will start at first light." The guards and the two warriors nodded. Though Arton could swear there was a hint of impatience to the High Justicar. Regardless Arton WAS tired...but he was also yielding to his body's need to feel again Roland...