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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Rodrigo Istalindir" data-source="post: 5899801" data-attributes="member: 2810">Ceramic DM Finals:  The InquisitorThe Inquisitor strode briskly through the darkness, anxious to reach the end of his journey. The air was cooling swiftly on this autumn night, wisps of fog nipping at the road like playful pups. Ahead, the glow of oil lamps beckoned, promising warmth and food and companionship. Movement drew his eyes to the roof. Crows flitted among the eaves.A murder, he thought. How appropriate.<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v310/UselessTriviaMan/CeramicDM04.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />†††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††Jon stared at his son in disbelief, the letter that provoked their argument forgotten at his feet.“My God, why? What possessed you to do that?”“I see the messenger from the college beat me here,” his son replied. “Unfortunate.”“That’s what you find unfortunate? Not getting kicked out of school, nor bringing disgrace to your family? Did you think we’d not find out?”“I’d hoped to retrieve what I came for and be gone. “Jon was afraid to ask Thomas what was so important that he’d risked coming home. “Confess to the Prior,” he pleaded. “Confess, and beg forgiveness. He owes this family that much.”Thomas laughed, and Jon flinched. The boy was gone, and he didn’t know the man before him. “Confess to what? To turning my back on their willful ignorance, their corruption, their complicity?” he spat.Jon had no answer. He’d given his life to the Faith, had suffered in its service and brought suffering to others. He’d known Thomas had blamed him for his mother’s death, and had hoped that sending the boy away to the university would, if not temper his tongue, at least minimize the consequences. He stood firm as Thomas tried to push past him, and said nothing when he left.†††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††The Inquisitor circled the building cautiously. The lack of sound within was a dead giveaway that something was amiss, and he couldn’t afford to take chances. He chased his quarry for months, and though he stayed hard on its heels, it had still managed to elude him, the bodies left behind like a macabre trail of breadcrumbs.He whispered as he walked, exerting his will and drawing a Circle around the inn. He remembered the first time he’d performed the ritual; it was the first thing taught to students at the college. Only after it had been mastered were they permitted to advance to more dangerous studies. He’d been a slow student, and only the tutoring of his friend Samis had gotten him through that first semester. †††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††Jon confronted Headmaster Samis at the University. Although he came as a parent, he wore his robes and carried the Staff of Judgment. A little fear might loosen the man’s tongue if friendship wouldn’t, and Jon was in a hurry. “Yes, Samis, I read the letter. Did you think I came here to reminisce?”“Ah, yes, of course. I’m sorry,” the headmaster stammered. “It’s just that I thought… I wasn’t expecting…”“No one expects us, Samis. Your letter was distressingly brief. I require additional detail.”Jon waited while the headmaster regained his composure.“What, exactly, did he do? ‘Violations of the First Rule’ is a broad condemnation.”“I’m sorry, Jon,” he sighed. “I was deliberately vague. I hoped to spare him the fire and you the embarrassment.” “I’m afraid it was more than simply pushing the boundaries. A lot of students do – we certainly did – but while accessing the librorum profanae is grounds for dismissal, we don’t generally expel students for trying and failing.”“So, he succeeded?” Jon asked. “The vault is sealed a dozen different ways. No one has read those books for a hundred years. Not since the Schism.”“I’m afraid he did,” Samis admitted. “We still don’t know how. I’m the only one that should be able to pass the wards, and even I lack the Word to pass the final portal. Only an Inquisitor…“Samis looked up, hoping his mistake would go unnoticed and realizing it hadn’t.“Come, Samis. We have some books to read.”Hours later, the Inquisitor left. Samis remained behind in the vault, vacant-eyed and drooling.†††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††The Circle complete, the Inquisitor paused to gather his strength. The last time he’d confronted his prey, he’d nearly been killed. Although he’d succeeded in freeing Thomas, the battle had cost him dearly, and he’d lacked the strength to continue the pursuit. This time there would be a resolution, one way or the other. †††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††The forest reeked of decay. Jon had grown up near such a forest – his father had been a lumberjack, actually – and as a boy the smell of rotting vegetation had been almost welcome, for it signaled fertile ground and sufficient rain.Now it reminded him only of corruption.Skills little used since his youth came back to him, and he picked up Thomas’ trail with little difficulty. The boy was careless, and the freshly-broken branches and still-muddy footprints told him Thomas wasn’t far ahead. On the road to the college he’d remembered the package that had arrived for Thomas the day before the expulsion letter, and he briefly considered turning back. He wished he had; the writing and maps in the parcel had told him enough that he wouldn’t have needed to spend Samis’ life in the vault. He’d been afraid that the detour home to search his son’s room would cost him dearly, but apparently Thomas didn’t know he would be pursued, or he didn’t care.Lost in his thoughts, he’d also lost the trail. He stopped and looked around, apprehensive. Maybe Thomas had more fieldcraft than he’d thought.“You’ve been to the college. I can taste the uncertainty.”The Inquisitor jumped in spite of himself. He turned and saw his son standing nearby, but the voice that spoke was not the one he knew so well.“What have you done with my child?” Jon pleaded.“Fear not.”“He’s here!”“And he’s not alone.” Despite issuing from a single throat, the voices overlapped into a cacophony that trailed off into disturbing giggles.Please don’t let it be too late, Jon prayed. Please don’t let it be too late to save Thomas from the creature that had consumed him, the creature he’d unwittingly invited into this world during his ill-conceived break-in.He started the Rite of Expulsion.“NO!” a thousand voices shouted at once. The wall of sound drove him to his knees, the words trailing off.“Not yet. Our time will come soon, proud one, soon enough. But first, a gift. You found the truth at the college, even if you refuse to admit it. Let me give you the proof.”The creature that was once his son took off into the forest. Grimly, Jon followed. They soon came to small clearing. Scattered around were several statues in various states of disintegration. Judging by their condition and the layers of moss and fungus that covered them, they’d been there for a long time.<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v310/UselessTriviaMan/CeramicDM05.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />“I don’t understand,” Jon said. “Why are you showing me some moldering statues?” “Not statues!”“Look closer!”“Open your eyes!”The demonic chorus was unnerving, but Jon obeyed. He approached one of the statues, one that was almost completely intact. It lay in repose, as if sleeping. He took the hem of his cloak and scrubbed away the moss and lichens.With a start, he realized he recognized the figure. Its likeness had stood watch over him throughout his time at the seminary. Saint Willem the Just.The face was exact down to the finest detail, no, more than the finest detail. The scriptures had told of the scar that adorned Saint Willem’s chin, the result of a childhood accident while learning to ride. But doctrine dictated that the saints be depicted as perfect, as they would be in heaven.And the tangle of moss was more than that. He saw a golden shimmer, and gently pried away some of the vegetation to reveal a rotten scapular, the gold threads all that remained after insects and decay had taken the fabric.Laughter greeted his confusion, and he looked up at the creature that had led him here.“I came to wake them. Can you imagine the chaos that would cause?” it smirked.Enraged at the demon that had stolen his son and his faith, he shouted the first words of the ritum expulsio.The battle lasted long into the night, and when it was over, the demon fled into the dark, driven from its host into a flock of birds.Jon wept over the body of his fallen son. †††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††The Inquisitor removed the badge of office from his cloak. It had been useful in his pursuit, but he was no longer able to tolerate the lies it represented. The power it represented was his own, and he’d come to understand in the weeks since he’d left the Reliquary that it had always been his strength, not the Faith’s, that had allowed him to accomplish the tasks set before him.Armed only with his staff and one word, he was ready.†††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††Jon arrived at the Reliquary a week later. He ridden several horses to death to do it, and he hoped word of his travails hadn’t reached the Prior yet. No one in the many villages he’d passed through had dared question an Inquisitor demanding a horse or supplies for the road.He drew his hood over his head, and stepped onto the dock. The Reliquary was the seat of the Faith, resting place of the various relics of the saints, and home of the Prior and his Inquisitors. No one would pay another anonymous servant of the Faith any attention.He rode the ferry to the island nestled in the middle of the small inland sea, and paid for a horse-drawn carriage to take him to the Prior’s demesne. He wondered whether simply confronting the prelate was the wisest course. He needed the truth, certainly, but he also needed a way to locate his son’s killer. While he waited to be admitted to the Prior’s chambers, he walked around the rotunda, examining the busts of the saints. He paused next to Saint Willem, noting the unblemished chin.The Schism had been the most important time of the Faith since its founding centuries before. A group of renegade priests had questioned the Faith, had called into question the absolute authority and infallibility of the Prior. The land had been on the brink of civil war when the Prior revealed the demonic forces behind the heretics. The teachings said there had been a great battle between the prelates and the demons, and that only the Prior survived. He’d returned with tales of the heroism of the others, and named them saints of the Faith, saying he’d witnessed their being bodily assumed into heaven. He’d also established the Inquisition, to ensure that the people remained true to the Faith, and that the corruption that lead to the Schism wasn’t allowed to gain a foothold again. In the century since, the Prior had ruled, unquestioned, his ageless body proof of his divinity.“The Prior will see you now, Inquisitor.”The voice startled him, and he nearly knocked Saint Willem’s head from the pedestal. He steadied his nerves, then bowed and followed the young acolyte that had come to summon him. “Welcome, Jon, welcome. It has been too long since we’ve had a chance to talk.”“I’m honored you remember me, Excellency.”“Of course I remember. You were one of our brightest students, and the best Inquisitor in decades. Few have the strength to do what God wills as you do.”The oblique reminder of his wife’s death turned his stomach. He nearly grabbed the Prior, and only the knowledge that he’d be struck down where he stood without a chance to avenge his son stopped him.“Again, you honor me.”“Please, sit. Tell me what brings you back to the Reliquary.”Jon told him of his son’s demise and his search for the missing demon, leaving out only what he witnessed in the forest. The Prior was renowned for his ability to sniff out deception, and the less he left out, the safer he figured he was.“And what do you need to complete the task God has set before you, my son?”Jon answered.The Prior looked at him appraisingly for several moments before he nodded agreement. He stood and walked to a leather-bound book that sat in a glass covered case. He held the holy signet ring against the lock and opened the lid when he heard it open. “This is dangerous knowledge, Jon. Do not fool yourself into thinking it makes you the equal of this creature. It has had an eternity to practice deception. End it, quickly and without remorse or compassion.”While the Prior paged through the book looking for the information he sought, Jon began reciting the Prayer of Resolve. Unheard by the Prior, Jon also worked in the Word of Revealing, a piece of forbidden knowledge he’d gleaned from the tomes he and Samis had uncovered. He’d wondered at the time why such a useful tool had been forbidden.When he saw the Prior’s true form, he knew. It took all the will he’d acquired in years of service to look the Prior in the eye when he returned with a slip of paper.<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v310/UselessTriviaMan/CeramicDM03.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />“Thank you, your Excellency. I pray I will not let the Faith down.”†††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††The Inquisitor slowed as he neared the inn, taking care to step near the edges of the steps lest a loose board betray his approach. He raised his staff in one hand and gently eased the door open with the other. He’d though himself inured to blood and bone, but the carnage within shocked him nonetheless. The night stilled out of respect for the dead; even the crows that still circled above mute.The sole living thing within the charnel house perched atop the bar, licking the blood from its fur. It sensed his approach and stopped cleaning itself to watch him warily.“I know you. The time for deception is over.”The cat hissed, then began contorting into impossible shapes, the brittle sound of breaking bones mimicking the crackling logs in the fire. For a moment he glimpsed the maw of the beast, and then one became two. Instantly, the process began again.<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v310/UselessTriviaMan/CeramicDM01.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />“I said, I know you, obscenity. I speak your True Name, and call you to account.”“Legio nomen tuum, quoniam multæ sunt. Your name is Legion, for you are many.”The demon howled in a harmony of rage and fear. Its multiple hosts began swarming, climbing the walls and racing across the ceiling.The Inquisitor repeated the name. The howling reached a crescendo, and then suddenly ceased when he uttered it the third and final time. “Cum nomen ego ligare te et tibi. With your Name I bind you and command you.”The demon’s forms stilled, and a hundred eyes gazed upon the Inquisitor with curiosity and, perhaps, hope.“You seek a service, then?” it purred.“I seek knowledge,” he replied.The Inquisitor asked, and Legion answered.†††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††Jon stood once more at the dock at the base of the Reliquary. The towers of the most holy site reached towards God, but to the Inquisitor it inspired not awe or humility but anger and despair, a monument to blasphemy.He’d given everything they’d ever asked, and it had cost him his wife, his son, his faith, and probably his soul. He had only one thing left to give.Legion had laughed when he’d named his price for the demon’s freedom, and then offered him a single word in payment. The Inquisitor spoke the Word of Unmaking, and the waters came.<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v310/UselessTriviaMan/CeramicDM02.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /></blockquote>

Verification