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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 2725029" data-attributes="member: 143">Yeah, nothing's changed AFAICT. Current ECL is ~20 (give or take a level for some of the characters). * * * * * Chapter 491“This is insane.” Beorna paced back and forth across the small room that served as Arun’s quarters, her heavy boots making a loud clatter against the thick wooden floorboards.  She was not clad in her heavy adamantine armor, but even in her robe she could not appear as anything other than the warrior that she was.  Arun, by contrast, stood calmly by the plain rack that held his armor and sword, on the far side of the room, his hands folded across his chest.  “You know about my past,” Arun said.Beorna made a dismissive slashing gesture with her hand.  “Bah, so you wouldn’t slaughter innocents…  But that has nothing to do with this.  You are a paladin, you’ve been fighting on the front lines of the battle against evil nonstop for the last year!  How anyone could doubt that is… it’s… insane!”Arun sighed.  “From what I’ve learned about Helm and his church, you do not do things all that differently.  The Law…”“I know about the Law!  I’m a templar… I’ve served on tribunals of inquisition!  But we aren’t so bound by blind tradition that we ignore reality that is starkly clear…”She trailed off, frowning.  The fact was, she could remember several cases where just that had happened.  She herself had been caught in that trap, the danger of all those who followed a strict code, and who tended to rely on that code rather than confront difficult situations where nuance trumped clean and easy solutions.  But she wasn’t going to let that change what was so blatantly wrong about the current situation. Snorting, she started pacing again.  “So.  What happens, if you are indicted?  Are you just going to go with this cleric back to the Rift, surrender yourself for trial, a thousand miles away?  Walk away from all we’ve done here, from what still needs to be done?”  Her voice cracked slightly with the last sentence, and she turned away for a moment, disgusted at herself for letting her feelings undermine her argument.  Arun pretended not to notice, and she pretended not to thank him for it. “It is highly unlikely that I would be ordered back to the Rift.  My return would be… problematic, and the Inquisitor is perfectly able to pronounce and implement the sentence, should I be found guilty of the charges.”Beorna turned back toward him, frowning.  “I admit that I do not know enough of the details of the All-Father’s doctrine to know this, but what are we talking about here, in terms of penalty?”“A mark of justice, combined with an outright prohibition on wearing the icons of Moradin or his church, or claiming leadership therein.  Possibly a public lashing.  In a dwarven community, that would be naked, but I do not know how the law would be applied within a mixed-race community such as Cauldron.”“Oh, Taskerhill would probably sell tickets,” Beorna drawled.  “I am sorry that you have to be involved in this,” Arun said.  “This is my burden, not yours, and a public hearing could bring shame upon the Temple of Helm.”Beorna came over to him.  “Now you’re just being an idiot,” she said.  “This foolishness is no fault of yours, even a child could see that.  Whatever happens—whatever!—we will face it together.”“Beorna—““Do not challenge me on this!  I have your oath, do not forget, and while this fool cleric may doubt your word, I know better.”  She took his hand, crushed it in hers, lifted it to her lips and brushed it with them.  Then, as if embarrassed by the action, she released him and stepped back.  “The matter is settled, then.  I have a meeting with that blasted Taskerhill, I’m already late for it.  But tonight, we will have dinner, and discuss your defense at this hearing.  Assuming you weren’t planning on playing at a martyr and meekly accepting the judgment of this Umbar Ironhammer.”“I may be many things, but meek is not one of them,” Arun said.  “Good, because I cannot stand milksops.”  She started toward the door, but as she reached it she turned back to him.  “I know that you know this, Arun, but it is the man, not the symbol, that is important.”“I know, Beorna.”She nodded, and departed.  She was already thinking about the unpleasantness likely to occur during her meeting with Taskerhill, so she nearly collided into Umbar Ironhammer in the hall outside.  Arun, unfailingly polite, had offered the priest lodging  on the temple grounds, and while Beorna did not feel particularly hospitable toward the gold dwarf, she was compelled to recognize the respect due his office.  The cleric no longer wore his full plate armor, but the tunic he wore still bulged with the presence of at least a shirt of chain links beneath.  The sigil of Moradin was still featured prominently upon the garment, spreading across his chest.  “Templar,” the priest said, with a curt nod.  Beorna did not trust her voice, so replied only with a nod so abbreviated that it could almost have been perceived as an insult.  The corridor was narrow enough to make it difficult for the two to pass each other easily, but after a moment the cleric of Moradin turned aside, letting her depart.  Her boots made a loud clatter as she stormed away, expressing her displeasure at the unplanned encounter. Umbar glanced after her, then continued to the door through which she’d appeared.  He rapped upon it. “Come in.”He opened the door to find Arun seated at the compact desk arrayed in a corner of the plain chamber.  The warrior quickly rose and bent his head in the traditional gesture of respect. “I am not here in my official capacity,” he said.  “I know that the hour is late, but I wished to speak to you.”“I am at your disposal, Inquisitor,” Arun said, indicating the only other chair in the room, a simple three-legged stool that looked sturdy enough to support the muscled dwarf.  But the dwarf remained standing, crossing to the armor rack where Arun’s magical platemail shone in the light of the room’s single oil lamp.  The breastplate bore prominently the mark of the anvil and hammer, and the cleric’s gaze lingered on that sigil. “The armor was a gift from the Temple of Helm,” Arun said. “It is a fine suit.”  The cleric turned his attention to the scabbarded longsword placed in the slots atop the rack.  “You once wielded the warhammer, as I recall.”“In the struggle against evil, I have made use of the weapons that have come to me.  The sword is a holy avenger,” Arun said.  “It has proven a great ally.”Umbar reached for the weapon, after directing a glance at Arun for permission.  No matter what their respective statuses, it was still a great insult to take a warrior’s weapon without leave.  Arun nodded, and the cleric drew the weapon, examining the blade in the light of the lamp, as it did not radiate its usual glow in his hands.“I have not had the fortune of handling such a weapon,” he said finally, replacing the weapon in its holder.  “The mark upon the blade… the sigil of the human god Lathander, is it not?” Arun nodded.  “We found it in the hands of an evil cult that had headquartered in the tunnels beneath the city.  They were intent upon the destruction of Cauldron, and the facilitation of a permanent gate between Faerûn and Carceri.”“So I have heard,” Umbar said. “I can prepare a written overview of recent events, from my perspective, for the record, if you wish.”Umbar shook his head.  “I am certain that all of that will be addressed in sufficient detail in the hearing.”  In an odd parallel to Beorna’s actions earlier, he turned and strode across the small room, pausing near the door, looking away from him.  “Your actions have created no small amount of disruption within the leadership of the Rift,” he finally said.  “I have always tried to follow the dictates of our faith, as dictated by my conscience and my best judgment,” Arun said. The inquisitor snorted, and turned.  For the first time, some hint of emotion was visible on his face.  “This isn’t some chaotic elf-faith, Goldenshield!  Our religion is based upon rules, and order.  The dictates of your ‘conscience’ have no bearing upon this matter, but rather the violations of our code, and the defiance of ecclesiastical law, that you have perpetuated.”“It would seem that I have already been judged,” Arun said, quietly. “You will receive a fair hearing according to the letter of the Law,” Umbar intoned.“Perhaps I should reserve any further comments for that event,” Arun said.  “I do not wish to be your enemy, Goldenshield.  It is not my intent to try you again for the sins of the past.  My responsibility now is to my office.”“I have never expected any less of you, Inquisitor.  Yours was not the deciding vote for my exile…”“But I voted in favor nevertheless,” the cleric finished for him.  “I hope you understand why it was done.”“I accepted the judgment.  And I will accept any lingering consequences of my actions.”The two dwaves stood there for a long moment, facing each other in a silent confrontation of wills.  Finally, Umbar opened his mouth to speak, but his words were distracted by the sound of a commotion in the hall outside.  The noise of hasty bootsteps was followed by an equally abrupt patter of knuckles on the door. “Lord Goldenshield!” came a muffled voice through the portal.  “Lord Goldenshield, forgive the intrusion, I know it’s late, but there’s trouble in the city…”Arun came forward, waiting for Umbar to step back to provide access to the door.  The cleric’s expression had hardened again into a stony commentary of disapproval as Arun drew the latch and opened the door to reveal an agitated young human, clad in the blue livery of the Hammers.  He glanced at Umbar, momentarily uncertain. “What is it, Caleph?” Arun asked. “There’s reports of an attack, near the river chasm,” the young man said quickly.  “No one’s really sure who it was, but it seems that several people have been abducted… they just vanished!”</blockquote>

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