The Power of Names

You arrive at the city gates of Gorth after an extended 15 day trek from Floth, your feet blistered and swollen from the beating. En route you managed to slay 3 lesser deamons and a succubi which was praying on travellers near the south plains bridge, so you're in high spirits regardless of the state of your feet. Your scythe, which is currently in your right hand and held over your shoulder shudders slightly, the weight of a powerful deamon trapped within the base blade thundering through it. You can feel the strange energies of the deamon, and her visage still lingers in your mind from the moment that you entombed her - A blue womanlike creature with a whiplike tail that she used as an extra appendage. Her hair was ragged and black, falling around her face like some form of twisted window. Covering her entire body were tattoos of various types, including many ring like tattoos up her arms and a dragon tattoo on her right hip.

You sigh audibly as you fight to control the energies, before continuing up to the main gate. It is near midday and the summer sun is bearing down uncomfortably on your back, so entrance to the city will be a much needed source of shade. You get the inkling that you should go straight to the church of Erona, however the many prospects of a large city are still very tempting to you.

The guard on the front gate approaches you. He is a man of relatively normal appearance, aside from the blackened nose and antler like appendages extending from his head, defining him as one of the animal blessed - partial anthropic humans with the traits of a certain animal. He wears leather armour and a coif of greyish-green, underneath of which is a strange combination of orange and brown clothes, presumably ones that he uses to ward of the uncomfortable rubbing of the armour. He holds in his left hand a generic longbow, and your runesight spots no problems with the man nor his weapon. He appears stressed and annoyed by the constant glare of the sun, and is therefore short of temper.

"Stop, traveller, I need your name and rank, as well as your purpose here. Gorth is a miliary controlled city and is under strict curfew."

He moves in front to block you, eyeing your scythe with extreme caution. He appears to be further unsettled by your aura.

I nod to the man.

"Greetings. I am Javis, a priest and pilgrim of the Church of Erona, my pilgrimage is to the High Church in Far'stan. I apologise for my state of dress, I am aware that I do not look like a member of the church, however I was accosted by some demons on the way here, and these were better than the rags I was left in. The scythe is a relic of one of the Holy Churches. Not a weapon." I assume as unaggressive a stance as I can, I have no interest in starting fights with angry guards.

I smile pleasantly and focus on the fact that I only stretched the truth, rather than telling outright lies. If he has the ability to hear the truth, unless he is high level, he shouldn't notice anything. Hopefully he shouldn't catch me out anyway, I've gotten used to telling this version of the truth recently.

He grunts, still obviously wary of the scythe.

"Your story is feasible sir, however I have not been alerted of any pilgrims that should be wishing for entry. Please follow me into the guard house so that I can check for your name."

He turns to face the guard house, however you can feel that -something- is still watching you closely, most likely a divination charm. As you look up you see an extremely well dressed lady sitting atop the main battlements, apparently sunbathing. Around her is the glow of an unfamiliar magic.

"Please come this way."

He begins to walk towards the building.

"...Right." I adjust my scythe and follow him, patting my pocket to make sure I still have the paperwork, remembering a time before when it got pick-pocketed.

You reach the guard house and he hooks his hand inside, pulling out a large ledger, which he promptly starts flicking through.

"How long ago did you begin the pilgrimage? I should have a note dated for then."

He looks up at you. His eyes widen.

You hear a soft, feminine voice from behind you.

"That's a pretty scythe."

I wince slightly.

"...About... seven months or so ago...? Give or take...?"

As I hear the voice, I glance over my shoulder up at the giant scythe and the massive runed, stone-like blade that sits atop it, and try to find any way in which the blood-soaked purveyer of death is even remotely pretty.

"...right." I answer slowly, turning to face the voice. "Its a holy relic." I tell them matter-of-factly.

As you turn to face her she grabs your shoulder, pushing you back to be facing the guard.

"Guard. You may go."

The guards eyes practically pop out of his skull before he stammers:

"My, my lady, I..."

You feel the strange aura from before well up and then quell itself, before she interrupts the guard with a single sentence.

"Go, I am currently the highest form of authority here."

He squeals audibly before stating:

"Yes, Lady Carilasou"

And then he scarpers out of the door. Carilasou then pushes the door closed behind him, still holding you firmly in place with the other hand.

"Now that we are alone..."

She begins to stoke your scythe.

"My... Lady?" I ask, not surprised at her status, but rather her actions.

Years of Church training overrule this however, and I fall to one knee, holding the Scythe in place with magic.

Secretly I wonder if the demon inside has beguiled the woman, but shrug it off. Such a thing has never happened before. It is possible, of course, that she recognises the scythe's blade as the relic it began as. Hopefully not to the exact church.

She laughs, but then her face falls serious once more.

"You introduced yourself as Javis. I was made aware 7 months and 6 days ago that you would be making a pilgrimage to the main church, and that you should arrive in Gorth in around a month. It has been 7 times that amount of time and you arrive here carrying a holy relic that is now defiled with not one, but TWO deamons.

I have been hearing of your actions slaying the deamonic horde however, and therefore I will not immediately condemn you. Now would you please tell me what exactly you are doing with that weapon, and why you have so little control over the creatures within it? I advise you to speak truthfully, as I am Lady Carilasou, head of the Royal Deamon Hunters, and any lies that you may speak I will personally condemn you for."

She cease stroking the scythe, and instead pulls out a small pocket mirror. You suddenly feel compelled to tell the truth.

I chuckle awkwardly.

"It... was an accident?"

Reaching up she places her head into her hand, breathing softly.

"Could you please recapture the deamon that just escaped from YOUR BLADE?"

You suddenly feel the lack of a certain deamon in your scythe, and looking around you spot a blue tail disappearing around a door that leads further into the guard house.

"NOW?"

Figuring it can't get much worse, I throw her a salute.

"Yes'm!" Rising to my feet, I grip the scythe and hold it out to one side, a feral grin across my face, and stride towards the

"Mine Goddess, Lawna the Woebringer, Harbringer of Death, In the circle of power governed by truth, I do beseech from thee the power to hunt down this demon. Imbue this scythe with your power and grant me this boon. By your will be it done!"

With this, I pull back the scythe and slash down in the direction the demoness took.

The scythe glows menacingly before a crackling glow hits the ground, spreading out from the point of impact and up the walls. The network of glowing fibres speads itself across the building, feeling and searching for the deamon.

Until it finds it.

You feel the familiar pull of the nether as you feel yourself shadowstepping through a wall to be by your scythe's side, as it disappeared in search of the deamon.

Except you go too far, and instead of shadowstepping through the wall you instead pass through it, forcefully. Bits of rubble and plaster fall around you, and you find yourself face to face with a blue deamoness, a wicked grin on her face. She begins to speak, a melodic voice quite uncharacteristic for a deamon.

"Oh Mistress of the North Wind, grant me this boon. I seek for the power to repel and to reject, to move mine foes out of this circle and into another. I seek for th-"

She is cut of unceremoniously by a brilliant beam of light that slams straight into her face, the echoing cry of "Elardis grant me strength!" accompanying the blaze as it literally forces her back across the room. You then stand there dumbstruck as The Lady Carilasou strides past you, grasping your scythe mid stride, and rams the butt end of it into the deamon's breast. The deamon hisses briefly before breaking down into blue mist and vanishing into the blade.

"I must admit..."

She pauses briefly, turning to face you.

"That was a very daring prayer for someone of low rank. Tell me, did you defeat her yourself the first time?"

"Hey, hey! I did what you did!" I pause before making a motion as if I'm poking something with a long pole. "I stabbed her with the scythe."

"I stabbed it with the scythe..."

She looks at you for a few seconds before laughing, an amused grin on her face.

"You are more amusing than I thought you'd be, I was expecting a fuddy old witch hunter turned deamon slayer..."

She looks you up and down.

"Some of the female hunters at the church may be interested in you...."

She trails off, before glancing around. She waves at the broken and wall and looks back at you, before stating.

"I take it the god of earth is not among your regulars?"

Then she raises the small pocket mirror again.

"No... Ya might not have noticed the whole 'life and death' thing I got going here? That mirror your focus?" I shrug to myself, realising I don't actually care that much, and throw the Scythe over my shoulder. "Can I get directions to the Church, M'Lady?"

She laughs heartily, before passing her hand over the top of the mirror.

"My lord of the earth, I beseech you to lend me thy power, by your will and your will alone may this spell be cast. I request from thee the restoration of this building, and offer you my service should you wish it."

A small globule of earth rises from the mirror, before shooting out of her hand and tumbling around the room. Every spot that the globule lands on begins rebuilding itself in an exact earthen replica, and before long the entire room is rebuilt.

"Now that that is done, I have some bad news for you. You wished to visit the church... Well, lets just say that someone is already there waiting for you."

She pauses, obviously for dramatic effect.

"Oh, and has been for the last eight weeks."

She smiles slyly, tilting her head slightly to the right.

I wince and cough somewhat awkwardly.

"Oh... really? Errr... there wouldn't happen to be any other churches in the area, would there?"

"No."

"Are you really, really sure?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Errr..." I check my moneybag to see how much money I have left.

You find a relatively small amount of money, 15g 32s to be precise, however that is still more than enough for multiple inn stays. Carilasou looks you over once more before bowing her head slightly.

"Right then, time to go!"

Dropping the mirror onto the floor she looks straight to the ceiling, strange markings appearing all over her body. As the mirror hits the floor a large pentangle spreads out from it, growing to the size of the room.

"True casting active.

By the power of the lady of the arcane, may our position be of my choosing."

And with that, a brilliant blue glow fills the room for half a second, before you find yourself standing in front of a very familiar, very unhappy looking face.

"Hello Javis."

Enthriss mutters.

"Oh. Hey Enthriss. Hows Gorth this time of year?"

Enthriss is not amused.

Raising her right hand she places the clawed tip of her index finger on your head, the strange chills of paralysis shooting down your body. Fighting the urge to just collapse you simply allow her to manoeuvre you over to a nearby bench, where she holds you, finger still on your forehead.

"We need to talk."

She jabs with the claw, the sharp pain waking you up slightly - you can move your arms, albeit limply, and can also speak.

"Over the last 8 months you've spent in total, including repair bills, around 22,000 gold pieces. That amount of money is enough to build a LARGE VILLAGE."

She pokes you rather abruptly, before removing her hand and grasping your chin.

"I don't care how many deamons you killed, you either owe the church a lot of money or ME a lot to compensate me for the amount of TIME that I have spent waiting for you."

You notice that Carilasou has left the room, smirking.

"I want... "

[PRIORITY TO INTERRUPT GIVEN]