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Message: <blockquote data-quote="(contact)" data-source="post: 1184448" data-attributes="member: 41">91—Gods and Men, Men Who Are GodsThe three adventurers teleport to Arabel, and keeping a low profile, gather information on the Truesilver’s attempt to re-unify Cormyr.  As feared, the great-house is preparing an army.  Conscripts have been levied from the ranks of the new alliance’s worshippers, and are being trained and armed for a spring-time assault.  The Truesilvers are led by their matriarch—a powerful priestess of Torm named Valeria Truesilver—possibly the most powerful cleric of the faith.  Local rumor has it that Valeria has gone to the side of her god, and returned with a powerful ally—her own great-grandfather, Hereson Truesilver, a legendary Champion of Torm who ascended to Torm’s realm after his mortal life and has since become a saint to the faithful—a demi-power said to be able to grant miracles to those who revere his memory.  It was Hereson’s legendary life that set the Truesilver name high amongst the other luminous families of Cormyr, his deeds as a mortal paladin that forever enshrined the clan with glory and established their reputations as careful protectors of the common good.Now, during this crisis, the people of Arabel have turned to the Truesilvers and the faith of Torm, and the streets are clogged with wandering prophets, holy men and stump-speakers that deliver fiery speeches rousing the populace against Lathander and their former Cormyrian brothers and sisters.  War-fever is in the air.“You know,” Taran offers, “we could just start killing these rabble rousers.  It would send a strong message, and probably draw this Hereson and his granddaughter out for a fight.”“No,” Elgin says, shocked at the proposition.  “We will do no such thing.”“We can find them ourselves, brother,” Thelbar says.  “This small-god, as the people call him, is often seen dispensing blessings among the crowds in the city center.  I suggest we wait there, and when he emerges, perhaps we can show him the error of his ways.”“Yeah, permanently,” Taran laughs.  “And then we’re going to acid storm the remains.”-----Injunctions against Lathander hang thick in the Arabel air.  Numerous speakers rail against the Dawn Lord, calling him traitor, and setting the blame for Cormy’s troubles squarely on the shoulders of his “wicked priests.”  If these injunctions and curses are difficult to hear for Taran and Thelbar, they are doubly so for Elgin.  The kind-hearted cleric nearly flinches each time a passing merchant curses his god, or a child spits at the mention of Lathander’s name.  Elgin’s sorrow is as clear on his face as his determination.After a half-day of waiting, their vigil is rewarded, as Hereson Truesilver appears among the crowd, smiling and blessing the onlookers with gentle touches of his gauntleted hands.  He is a tall and powerfully-built man, elaborately armored as befits a Champion of Torm.  He is perfect and beautiful in a rugged and fatherly way, and he literally glows; a shimmering yellow light that washes over all those in contact with him.According to Thelbar’s arcane sight, the older woman by his side is a powerful spellcaster—the equal of Elgin Trezler in skill, and her arms and armor radiate strong magical auras.  Although she appears to be several years Hereson’s elder, this must be Valeria, his descendant and, prior to his return to the mortal plane, heir to his lineage.Behind the two holy people, a tall and blindingly radiant celestial keeps watch.  This creature possesses the body of a man, but also the head of a dog—a breed well known in Cormyr for its loyalty and faithfulness.  Thus, it is this angelic watch-dog that spots the three adventurers as they stand directly within the path of the Truesilvers.  With a soft touch, it alerts its companions, and all three sets of eyes reach across the gathered crowds to fix on the Champions of the Risen Goddess.“This godling possesses no magic to speak of,” Thelbar says softly as the crowd between them begins to part.  “Only his sword and . . .” the mage pauses, “a ring.”“Huh,” Taran says, feigning interest.  “That’s unusual.”As Hereson moves toward the trio, he does so with an otherworldly grace, unrivalled in all the adventurers’ long years of experience.  He does not smile, but maintains an outwardly neutral expression, betrayed only by the righteous fire in his eyes.“I knew it would come to this,” he says softly, although his voice carries clearly throughout the crowded market.  “Cormyrians true, regard with your own eyes the assassins of Lathander, come to do what their treacherous god could not; silence the truth.”“This is the famous Elgin Trezler,” the woman says in a loud voice, motioning  to the crowd.  “The most high cleric of the Betrayer, and where is his flag of truce?  Why has he arrived so armed, and why has he brought these foreign mercenaries?”“Traitor!  Foreign scum!”  Members of the crowd begin shouting curses and epithets at Elgin and the brothers Tar-Ilou.“This city is infected with hatred,” Elgin says pleadingly.  “For the love you bear these people, will you not be at peace with us?”Hereson’s impassive expression does not flinch.  “For the love I bear these people, I stand against you and your god, Elgin Trezler.  If you doubt my authority,” he says with a mocking smile, as if such a thing could hardly be believed, “look to your own.  Almus-Re has spoken against you; your way will be the destruction of us all!”As Hereson locks eyes with Elgin, the hound archon begins to nudge the crowd aside and away, clearing room for what must come.“So who draws first? ” Taran thinks to Thelbar through their telepathic bond.  Stepping forward, Taran speaks directly to Hereson.  “Now, listen here,” he begins in his thickly accented Chondathan.  Taran lifts his hands palm-out in front of his chest, but the deified paladin ignores the fighter as if Elgin Trezler were the only foe worthy of notice.  Hereson begins to harangue Elgin, his words thick with accusation.“Hey, hello there?” Taran says, still with no result.  When it becomes clear that he is beneath Hereson’s notice, Taran’s face sets into a scowl.  “Oh, you shoulda looked at me,” he growls under his breath and begins walking toward Hereson and his associates.“Brother,” Thelbar warns, but it is no good.  Taran is marching toward the godling with that peculiar gait well familiar to both Thelbar and Elgin.But the glowing man does not seem to notice.  He is continuing his lecture of Elgin Trezler in a steadily rising tone of voice.  “. . . upon that dubious authority?  Let me correct you, sir.  Your souls will be cast into the Nine Hells!  Do not think that your usurper goddess—well known to be Lathander’s string-pulling mistress—will save you from that fate.  There is a heavenly judgment against you, Elgin Trezler, and against your lackeys as well.  For this, I have been called back to take my place among the true faithful of the realm!”  Hereson is nearly shouting.  “For this I have been called back to mortal life!”“Well, I got the fix for that,” Taran says to no one in particular as he pushes through the rapidly thinning crowd.  Taran moves directly in front of Hereson, his bulk preventing the paladin from looking at Elgin Trezler.  “Personally, I could give two f-cks about you and Cormyr,” he says in Isenthanian.  “You’re all just a bunch of self-important condescending bastards, but Elgin’s my friend, so I’m going to make you wish you’d been nice.”  By this point, Taran is nearly within arm’s reach of the paladin.Hereson looks down his nose at the thick-necked fighter muttering gibberish and says with a thin sneer, “One step closer and I attack.”Taran steps closer.</blockquote>

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