CHAPTER VII
WHAT SISTERS ARE FOR
For Merrideth, it began long before she was born, in her
grandfather's lifetime. He was a wizard of great repute, and
a man of noble bearing. He made a living in the vanquishing and
humbling of deamons, and so proficient was he that earned the
name Doomslayer, which in time became his surname, after the fashion
of the time. In his later years he married a young cleric of
the storm goddess, Vasi, and she bore him a son.
The boy proved to be of the same mettle as his sire, possessing
not only a skill in magic, but a natural flair for swordsmanship and
archery. Theseus also inherited from his father the title of Doomslayer,
and made his way in the world under that name, but in time, he, too,
chose to settle down, and raise a family. He married a Druidess, who
gave him two daughters.
Now, daughters weren't exactly what he'd been expecting. Still,
he reasoned that one child is as good as another, and set about raising
them as his father had raised him. Unfortunately, fatherhood and family
life didn't suit Theseus, and when adventure called, he responded, leaving
his wife alone to deal with two rather strong-willed children.
Alysia, Merri's elder sister, was a child of many talents,
possessing all her father's natural abilities and more, and the connection
with the gods that passed through the maternal side of her lineage. After
a turbulent childhood of experimentation, she chose her path, and sought
the gods. On her eighteenth yearday, she was declared as a Paladin of the
goddess Shani, the first so declared in many years, and the last for many
to come. She traveled wherever her goddess led her, and in many ways
earned her title far more than her father had.
Merrideth, though skilled, was not of the same cloth. She possesed
little ability for magic (which did not entirely displease her mother,
who had been soured on the concept of raising a magess by her first child),
though she shared her father's love of combat, the grace and deadly beauty
of the sword. It was only natural, given her pedigree, that she became
an adventurer, especially considering that she lived in Asero, home of the
legendary Adventurer's Guild. In that capacity she and her sister were
often paired, and they found that they were far better at working together
than they had ever been at living together.
However, as the years passed, Merri sensed a certain tension between
Paladin and Patron. In time, Alysia seemed to withdraw, she became moody
and appeared dissatisfied. Merri did her best to get her to speak of it,
but too much history lay between them. The most she got was a monologue
about the decline the world had fallen into, and a commentary on Frodan's
Folly. Merri dismissed it as just another of the dark moods her sister was
occasionally prone to, but when they returned to visit their mother, she
woke one morning to find Alysia gone, with no explanation or warning.
Her mother was not inclined to worry. After all, she reasoned, Alys
was a Paladin of Shani, and more than capable of taking care of herself.
Merri was not so certain. She recalled hearing her sister arguing with the
goddess, and from the sounds of it, neither had been pleased with the
conclusion. And there was something else, a feeling... a vauge impression
that Alys was in trouble, trouble that was perhaps too deep for her to
handle alone, but too personal to share.
Well, Merri soon decided, there was only one thing for it then. No
sense in sitting around and brooding about it. She'd just have to find
Alys, and help her, whether she liked it or not.
After all, what are sisters for?
Many passings of the sun later, Merri stepped off the boat and onto
the docks of Hurshtown. Her search had proved to be much more difficult
than she'd ever imagined. She'd followed her sister from one port to the
next, always just a little too late to catch her, always finding a clue
leading her to the next location. A Republican merchant in Seahold had
directed her here, to Hurshtown, a city that was described as the "Armpit
of the Mainland". Not a bad description, Merri thought, as she wrinkled
her nose at the smell from the harbor. The merchant had said Alys had
contacted him to arrange a meeting with a certain thief, who preferred to
remain anonymous, for obvious reasons. Professional courtesy yielded to
monetary influence, and in due course, Merri acquired the name of the
thief.
What a Paladin was doing getting in touch with a thief was quite
beyond Merri's understanding, but it gave her enough to go on. After
hitting many of the local gathering places, she came to one who's crudely
lettered sign declared to be the "Sodden Dragon". Merri grimaced at the
painted icon above the lettering, though she had to admire the artist's
technical skill. She'd never seen a drunk dragon, but the artist caught
it well. Putting aside her critique, she entered the tavern, coughing a
little, for the room was filled with light smoke, in addition to heavy
drinking.
The sight of her cloaked form passing through the doorway made several
of the nearer patrons look up, but apparently she wasn't impressive enough
to rate a second glance. She cast back the hood of her cloak, and headed
for the bar. Along the way she was interupted twice by burly drunks who
didn't seem to realize that she wasn't interested. The first she just
pushed aside, surprising him with her strength. The second offered her a
few coppers, and in reply she knocked him into a nearby table, spilling
several patrons' drinks. They looked like they might try to take it out
on her, but she cast her cloak back over her shoulder. Even in the dim
light of the tavern, the forged steel of her armor gleamed, and when she
moved her hand to rest on the hilt of her sword, a path quickly cleared
between her and the bar.
When she reached the bar, she pulled a pouch from her cloak and began
dropping coins onto the bar until a pile of coins three deep gleamed silver
on the counter. Having thus acquired the barkeep's attention, she asked him
about a thief named Agnon, and a woman named Alysia, with ebony-black hair
and emerald-green eyes. The bartender commented that a lot of women pass
through a bar, few of them worth noticing, and as for thieves, well, there
were more of those than stars in the heavens. Merri pulled out two gold
coins, and dropped them onto the pile. The bartender continued that a woman
with green eyes and black hair does draw a bit of attention, and that he did
recall one passing through. After he'd offered enough of a description to
satisfy Merri, she recalled his attention to the thief, Agnon. After a few
more coins were passed between them, the bartender admitted that a few
thieves were of such skill that even as unconcerned and honest a man as he
heard of them.
"Do you know where I might find him?" She finally asked.
"Sadly, I do not. I know that he lives near here, and I believe that I
might know some of his associates who would know the exact location. Now
let me see... what were those names again? Oh, this job! It just ruins a
man's memory." He looked to Merri's pouch.
With a motion so quick that the man's hands did not have time to leave
the counter, Merri grabbed his shirt and pulled him over the bar until his
face was inches from her.
"Names. Now."
It is an odd feeling to wake up to a knife blade pressed against your
throat, as Agnon was well aware. After a while, you come to appreciate it,
in a certain way. Especially when you considered the alternative.
Thus it was that when he found a shadowy figure hanging over him his
initial reaction was one of relief at being alive. His second was to
appraise his captor. A warrior's stance, he noted, wide legged and ready,
but with a subtle aspect that was slightly confusing. The figure was draped
in a cloak, and knew how to use the lighting to best advantage. The person
holding the blade to his throat was obviously very good at what he did. The
legs, in the few spots where their form could be discerned beneath steel
greaves, were well-muscled, and slender. A rogue, most likely, like himself,
which Agnon took as a good sign. Mercenaries and warriors tended to be more
difficult to reason with. All in all, the thief judged that his chances of
surviving the encounter were still fairly good.
He had but a few scant moments to take all this in before the blade
pressed more forcefully against his throat, refocusing his attention away
from the figure above him and onto the knife again.
"Hello, Agnon. You and I are going to have a little talk about my
sister." Immediately Agnon began reviewing his most recent partners,
wondering which of them would have sent their brother to deal with him.
He drew a blank. The women he tended to bed weren't under the illusion of
long-term relationships. Unless... No, that would be impossible, Agnon
reassured himself, giving an involuntary shudder. He'd made certain that he
couldn't have sired children a long while back. Still...
"Um, I don't mean to upset you, sir," He began, "But I don't quite
recall your sister. If you could perhaps supply me with a name...?"
"Alysia Doomslayer. She came to this hellhole looking for you, and
I came looking for her. Now, then, I'm only going to ask this a certain
number of times. Where is she?"
"Alysia? I haven't dated anyone..." Understanding dawned on the thief.
"Oh, wait, you don't mean the Paladin, do you?" Agnon would have laughed if
it wouldn't have proved painful. "We went our separate ways. I couldn't get
what she wanted, and I'm certainly not suicidal enough to try."
"What did she want, then, and where did she go?"
"She wanted me to help her find the Stones. I sent her to the Mage
Guild; I don't do miracles." Agnon paused, "Would you mind not poking me?
I understand you're upset, but really, there's no need for that." Merri
looked down at the blade, and pulled it back a little, allowing the thief
more room to breath. The pitch of her voice finally registered with Agnon,
and he evaluated her stance and squinted to make out her features inside her
cloak. "You're a woman!"
Immediately Merri pulled back, trying to obscure her visage further,
but not before Agnon saw enough to convince him that he was, indeed, speaking
to a member of the opposite sex. While she was thus distracted, Agnon took
the opportunity to slip a tiny chip of amber into one of the folds of her
cloak. Satisfied with this, he turned his attention back to Merri's face
just in time to see the hilt of her dagger coming down to smash into the
bridge of his nose. Agnon slid into a transient, but complete, oblivion.
Merri sighed as she left the thief's rather well-appointed home. It
seemed she had hit yet another dead end, and she did not doubt that when she
reached the Mage's Guild, they would only offer her yet another destination.
Now, at least, she had some idea of her sister's intentions.
Apparently, Alysia intended to become the prophesied Champion, and
restore order to the realms by returning the Six Stones of the gods to the
Altar of Unity. It was a fool's quest, not what she'd have expected of her
normally level-headed sister, and Merri wasn't surprised that the thief
hadn't wanted to get involved. Merri doubted that the Guild would be open
at such a late hour, though, and she wasn't really feeling up to another
interogation anyway, especially with magi, who tended, in her opinion, to be
overly and needlessly secretive. She flagged down a passing cairrage, who's
driver seemed to only speak some strange derivative of Dwarven, which her own
out-of-practice mastery did little to help. Having tried several different
ways to explain the concept of an inn to the driver, she gave up, and
decided that she'd go to the Mage's Guild after all, if only because she
knew how to find her way from there. Another struggling attempt at
communication ensued. She started at the most basic, making hand gestures
to suplement, and described what she wanted. Describing a gathering of magi
proved futile, as Merri couldn't remember the basic inclusive term. Instead,
she described each type individually, Enchanters, Wizards, Necromancers,
Sorcerers...
When she mentioned sorcerers, the man's eyes widened in a flash of
comprehension, and he nodded vigorously. He hurled insults at the horses,
and cracked his whip, causing the cairrage to lurch forward with a jerk,
throwing Merri into the thinly-cushioned seat. Merri would have yelled at
the driver for this harsh treatment, but couldn't spare the effort, as the
cairrage flew over the cobbled streets at breakneck speed. Merri had finally
managed to find a good position to cling to when the driver screamed another
batch of obscenities at the horses. Merri gave vent to a few choice
expletives herself as she hurriedly jumped from the cairrage. The driver
gave another shout, and in a flurry of thundering hooves, the cairrage
vanished, leaving a surprised Merri in its wake, still holding the driver's
fare in her hand.
Shrugging, Merri returned the money to her pouch, more relieved at
having survived than anything else. When she turned around, however, she
cursed the driver and his horses with such fervor that one is inclined to
wonder as to their eventual disposition, simply as a matter of theological
curiosity. Wherever she was, it most certainly was NOT the Mage Guild, nor
was it even remotely in the viscinity.
Taking closer stock of her surroundings, Merri realized that the driver
might have just understood her original request, for to her left was what
gave every indication of being an inn. It was a run-down looking place, but
in her current state, she wasn't inclined to be choosy. She pushed open the
door, which, though old and coated in dust, swung smoothly and silently.
Squinting against the bright light of the interior, Merri entered the
building, and when her eyes adjusted, she gave a gasp at what she saw.
The shabby exterior belied the splendor of the interior. A frescoed
cieling was supported by columns that looked to be made of pure marble. The
room was filled with marble, mohogony, silver, and jeweled fixtures.
Everything glittered, and Merri felt as though she had somehow walked into
someone's dream, for the lavishness and luxury of the building seemed
unearthly. From behind curtains of thick white velvet, an old courtier
stepped forth. The aged gentleman quickly welcomed her to his establishment,
and said that he hoped she would find everything to her liking. Merri's
eyelids began to weigh down on her, and when the topic of payment came up,
she thoughtlessly handed over the entierety of her purse. Satisfied, the
old gentleman led her up a carpeted stairway, and showed her to her room.
He told her that if she needed wine, rope, or other props, she had only to
say so.
Puzzled, Merri shook her head to make sure she had heard him correctly,
and regretted it as her head began swimming and her vision blurred. Having
some small skill in magic herself, and having been the sister of one much
more talented, she understood what it felt like to be under the influence of
magic, and more importantly, how to deal with it. When she opened her eyes a
moment later, she needed a moment to catch her bearings.
The luxurious decor had been replaced by bare walls of decaying wood.
In the place of the velvet hangings were rags that might possibly have been
broadcloth once, but not within human memory. Merri looked into the room
that had been waiting for her, and inside was a dusty, mildew-stained bed,
and on the bed was a young woman, smiling invitingly up at her with a fixed
expression. Merri swung around in rage to face the courtier, only to
discover that he, too, had undergone a radical transformation. A shambling,
withered husk that once had been a man stared back at her, and she jumped
back from the sight of the undead, drawing her sword in less time that it
takes for a heart to beat and beheading the abomination where it stood.
Only then did she stop to wonder what was happening.
She chose the room across from the one intended for her as being most
defensible, and after securing the room she paused to take stock of the
situation. The cairrage man had obviously made a translational error.
Thinking back on the conversation, she remembered how his eyes lit up when
she mentioned sorcerers, and she gave a shudder. She understood something
of where she was, and it was not a good place for a woman to be. A brothel
run by a sorcerer, a house of sin where the women are enslaved by dark magic.
Merri wondered what fate was to have been hers had she not been able to fight
the charms woven about her, and concluded that perhaps she was better off not
knowing. Merri decided that in this case, the best thing to do would
probably be to leave, and inform the Guard later.
She opened the door, and peered outside. Nobody was walking the halls,
and her path to escape was clear except for one obstacle. As soon as she
stepped out the door, she saw the woman, still lying on the filthy bed, but
now her expression was no longer inviting, it was dreading. The illusion had
faded, allowing the real horror and agony of the woman's soul to show
through. Her mouth gaped in an endless unvented scream, and her eyes begged
for death. Merri closed the door, but could not lock away the vision of
those pleading, hopeless eyes.
Sighing, Merri turned away from the exit, and began to head deeper into
the building. She checked each room she came to in a cursory way, and found
most of them to be empty. Those that weren't were filled with men and women,
both looking ensorceled, performing acts of bestial lust. Merri quickly left
these, and proceeded forward, until she came to the end of the hall, where
she found a lone unmarked door. Being a vetran of many adventures, she
brought out a pair of gloves and put them on before touching the door. She
jerked her hand back as the necromantic wards on the door sucked the warmth
from her fingers, even through the glove's protection. The wards were
crafted by a master magician, and were far beyond anything Merri's tiny
talent could deal with. However, having come this far, Merri wasn't about
to give up. She drew her sword from its sheath. There was one trick she
knew that had worked in the past, and she was going to try it.
Letting loose with a scream of rage, she channeled all of her
frustration into her swing as she bashed the door with her blade. The wards
flickered, and arcs of blue light crawled over her sword, sending tingles
through her arm, but the wards held. Merri sighed, seeing clearly the only
recourse left to her. She drew a vial of blessed oil forth, and anointed
her blade with it.
Thus fortified, she took a few steps back, and gathered herself for a
second attempt. Rushing forward, sword raised over her head in a two-handed
grip, she brough her sword down with every ounce of force she could muster,
smashing it into the door. The wards reacted violently with the sword, and
blue sparks showered from the edge as it slid across the wards. The blade
itself began to glow red, then white, as it slid through the dark magic.
A moment later, Merri picked herself up from where she'd been thrown by
the blast. She glanced down at the hilt in her hand, which, along with a
numbness in her arm, was all that remained of her sword. She was relieved to
see that she had not sacrificed her sword for nothing, however. Not only
were the wards gone, but the door upon which they had been placed was a
mere memory. She got to her feet, and waited for some of the numbness to
pass from her arm before she passed through the doorway.
Inside, she found what were obviously the chambers of a magus. The most
notable evidence was, of course, the blue robed shape hovering a meter above
the ground, in the middle of a large pentagram inscribed in a circle.
"Welcome" The sorcerer intoned, "I'm surprised that you were able to
destroy my wards. You must be a very talented young magess."
"You have enslaved these helpless women with your dark magic, and tried
to do the same to me. For that you shall pay."
"Oh, don't play hard to get. It's beneath you. Sit down, my dear, and
I will explain." Merri remained standing, as there was nothing to sit on.
The sorcerer sighed. "Very well, stand, if you will. You must think I am
some sort of monster, to have used my magic as I have, but I assure you, my
intentions are quite good."
"How could ensorceling women and forcing them to submit to vulgar acts
be considered a good deed?"
"All of these women were prostitutes long before they met me, and a
good deal worse off. Most of them were homeless, starving. I provide for
them, give them enough to eat, and such shelter as I can safely manage, but
more than that, I give them escape. What you have seen here are only their
bodies. Their minds are engaged elsewhere, in a beautiful plane where all
their shattered dreams are mended. It is an arrangement benificial to
both, I gather their energy to strengthen my magic, and their services fund
my experimentation. In return, I give them all of the fulfillment that they
were denied all their lives."
"You expect me to believe that they submitted to this willingly?"
"I admit, some of them didn't realize the benifits of what I was
offering, but really, how could they not want to be free of such a life?"
"And what of me? I have no need of such escape, but your magic was
used against me as well."
"Oh, you came in the front door? No wonder you're angry. That wasn't
intended for such as you, my dear. I use a little magic on my customers,
yes, but only to enhance their enjoyment."
"And keep them coming back for more."
"Well, anyone could be accused of that. Does not the butcher try to
make his meat as appealing as possible? Does not the weaver try to make
cloth superior to his competitors? Is magic not sometimes employed to that
end?"
"Enough of this! This abomination before the gods ends now!" The
sorcerer raised an eyebrow.
"'Abomination before the gods'? Those don't sound like the words of a
magess. Tell me, what art do you practice?"
"None. I have no dealings in magic." The mage laughed.
"I beg your pardon. I thought you were here to join me. Tell me, what
do you plan to do? Did you think you could just come in and demand that I
stop and I'd just quietly go along?"
"Well..." Merri was cut off as the sorcerer wove a few quick runes in
the air, and a barrier seemed to slide between her mind and her senses.
"That was pathetically easy, considering that you resisted my first
spell. Well, now, it's off to the dream-plane for you. Hope you don't mind,
but you have a very nice body, and I'd hate to see it go to waste."
Merri opened her eyes, and wondered where she was. She remembered
looking for her sister, but couldn't recall why. She looked around, and
saw that she was surrounded by figures more than twice her height. She
seemed to be at some sort of party, in a place that was vaugely familiar.
All races seemed to be represented in the gathering, elves, dwarves,
draconians, humans, even the occasional fairy or ogre, but they all seemed
strangely out of proportion. The dwarves had grown so tall that they were
on eye level with her. Remembering her quest to find her sister, she pushed
her way through the crowd, following her instincts. After much jostling,
she found her quarry. Alys, only slightly taller than Merri, was in the
center of a ring of amazed onlookers, surrounded by dancing mice.
Merri leaned down, and made a few small chittering noises, interspersed
with small squeaks, just as her mother had shown her. The mice stopped
dancing, and scampered eagerly over to Merri, who fed them crumbs from her
pockets. She stood up and the mice ran off, eliciting a few shrieks as they
dashed past some of the more faint-hearted guests. When she looked up, her
sister was standing in front of her, her tiny fists balled in anger.
"Those were MY mice, how dare you?!" Merri, much to her surprise,
found herself backing down.
"I'm sorry, 'Lissa, I didn't mean to, I just wanted to play with the
mices too."
"You're sorry? Not as sorry as you will be!" Alysia's face underwent
a startling transformation. Her eyes began to glow with an unearthly emerald
fire, and her lips split in an angry predatory snarl, revealing two inhuman
rows of jagged points. Again, Merri found herself reacting
uncharacteristicly, as she turned to flee from her sister, trying to find
someone who could protect her, trying to find...
"Mama!" She cried desperately, "Mama, help!" No sooner did she call
out than her mother appeared, and stepped between them.
"So!" Her sister hissed, "You interfere where you are not wanted, O
Green one."
"I was called. Do you deny it?"
"You are not her mother!"
"Nor are you her sister. Enough of this pretense!" With a wave of her
hand, the party dissolved, guests, building, and all. Merri found herself
back at her normal height, huddling shamefully behind her mother's skirts.
Where her sister had been was a skull-headed fiend, its wings spread and
beating futily in anger.
"What the Hells is going on here?" Merri demanded, standing and
looking to her mother for explanation.
"Nothing that you need to worry about now, my child. This battle is not
yet yours to fight. Go, and leave him to me."
"Yes, ma'am." Merri backed away from the seemingly mismatched pair.
"Oh, and, Merri?" Her mother called.
"Yes?"
"Watch your mouth." Merri blushed.
"Yes ma'am." With that, the world seemed to blur, and a blankness
descended upon her.
When the darkness receeded, she stood upon a field of battle, sword in
hand. She looked around her, and this time recognized the scene. Scrawny,
hairy man-shapes surrounded her. Kataanes, savage humanoids with a taste for
human flesh.
"Well, come on, what are you waiting for?" Her sister's voice came from
behind her. "Attack me, and know the wrath of the goddess!"
The kataanes rushed forward, murderous intent clear on their otherwise
vacant faces. Merri heard her sister mutter a prayer, and felt the goddess's
blessing flowing through her. Another quickly formed prayer from the
Paladin, and her sword glowed softly, with a pearly radiance. Thus
fortified, Merri met the onslaught head on, her sword passing through the
beast-men as though they offered no more resistance than water. The scene
shifted, becoming a different battle, the kataanes being replaced by animated
skeletons. To her dismay, the blessings of the goddess disipated just as the
first skeletons reached her.
"Sister! A little more of that blessing would be good about now!"
There came no answer. Looking about, Merri could find no trace of her
sister. "Figures. Just when you need a Paladin, there's never one around!"
She did what she could, smashing the skeletons to pieces to disrupt thier
animation, but it seemed that for every one she smashed, two more took its
place. She was rapidly being overwhelmed.
"Merri, I can not help you now," Her sister said, appearing beside her.
"For the moment, I can not even help myself. If you seek the help of the
goddess, you must ask for it yourself."
"But I'm not a Paladin! I haven't even been to Temple in years!"
"The only temple that matters is the one you carry inside you. Look
there for your faith." With that, Alysia faded from view.
'This gets stranger by the moment', Merri thought, but she heeded her
sister's advice.
"In the name of Evan, I command you!" She cried to the skeletons who
bore down on her, "Walk this plane no more!"
Nothing happened.
"Oh, come on, give me a break!" She cried, "What am I doing wrong?"
She shrank back from the skeletons' touch, dreading the unnatural cold of
the undead. That thought led to another, and realization dawned upon the
warrior. Her sense of communion with the gods had always taken a different
form. Merri reached inside of herself, to her love of nature, to her sense
of connection to that special feeling of simple woodland faith.
"In the name of Shani, I denounce you! Offend this world no more!"
She felt a surge as energy rushed through her and the skeletons one by one
crumbled to dust. "I... I didn't know I could do that!" She exclaimed.
"What a rush!"
Even as she spoke, the world around her once again dissolved into a haze.
Merri opened her eyes, and saw that she was still standing in the
sorcerer's chambers. The mage was floating in his circle, holding traffic
with spirits, presenting her with a most tempting view of his back. Merri
reached inside her cloak, and was pleased to find that the mage hadn't even
bothered to disarm her. She unsheathed her dagger and lodged it in his back,
sliding it between his ribs, angling up to find his heart. His levitation
spell failed, and he crashed to the ground. Merri was surprised by this, and
lost her grip on the dagger.
"All right, I'll admit it, you surprised me." The sorcerer said,
spitting blood, "But I have a surprise for you, too!" He rolled over and
flung a spell so quickly that Merri had no time to brace herself. She
staggered as the sorcerer began draining away her life force, healing
himself. "I can see you aren't safe to keep around. I'll just have to take
you all at once, then." Merri felt a wrenching sensation as the sorcerer's
spell wrapped itself around her soul and began tugging at it.
"NO!" Merri shrieked, summoning the same outrage that had saved her
from the skeletons. "In the name of Shani, this abomination stops!" The
sorcerer laughed, until he began coughing up blood.
"Wha-?" As Merri watched, the wound in his back reopened. Then other
wounds became apparent. The sorcerer began to age before her eyes, his
magical youth deserting him. "No, you can't do this to me..." the sorcerer
mutter from his now-toothless mouth. "I..." The sorcerer's eyes rolled back
in his head, and he slumped to the ground. His corpse began to putrify, then
turned to dust. Within moments, all that remained of him was an unpleasant
odor.
"Merri, my child," Came a soft voice from the doorway, "I can not tell
you how proud I am of you." Merri looked around and saw a beautiful,
etherial woman clad in a gown of rich green.
"My Lady!" Merri exclaimed, bowing before the goddess Shani "I am
honored."
"You have done well, my child. The Gaurd will find this place in the
morning, and set free all those who have been held captive here. Your first
task as my servant has been completed."
"Thank you, my La--" Merri forgot all decorum as she stared at the
goddess. "Servant? What do you mean, servant?"
"Did you not know? By calling on my powers, you have agreed to serve
me. Fear not, I am not a harsh mistress. As my Paladin..."
"Paladin? Me?" Merri broke in, "I'm the last person you want as a
Paladin. I don't even go to temple!" A touch of anger appeared on Shani's
visage.
"Do not presume to tell me what is in my interest, child!" Merri
aknowledged the mistake, and accepted the rebuke.
"Of course, my Lady. I was merely surprised."
"You are forgiven. I know of your quest to find your sister. That is
one of the many reasons you have been Chosen."
"What have I been chosen for?" Merri asked, missing the implied
capitalization.
"To become my Champion. To restore Order and Balance to the Realms."
"Me? My Lady, surely you jest? I am not worthy of such an honor!"
"Meaning that you do not wish to be the Champion." Merri shrugged.
"Well, that too."
"As I said, I have my reasons for Choosing you. Your quest to find
your sister is doomed to failure, unless you become my Champion."
"And why is that?" Merri had quickly lost her sense of awe for the
goddess, and it was replaced by a sense of indignation. She didn't like
being manipulated by anyone, even a diety.
"Because only the Champion would survive an attack on the Altar of
Unity."
"But why would I go to... You bitch!" Shani's face betrayed only
shock, "You sent my sister to die!"
"I will forgive that blasphemy this once. Do not try my patience again.
Your sister went to the Altar of her own free will, and against my wishes.
Do not blame me for her stubborness."
"So the only way I can save Alysia is if I agree to obey you?" Shani
nodded. "I knew Alys was in trouble. If I'd known how much..."
"She chose her own path, and in doing so, chose for you as well." Merri
shook her head.
"Am I my sister's keeper, then?" Shani smiled.
"You have traveled across the Realms in search of her. It would seem
by your actions that you are." Merri sighed.
"All right. What do I have to do?"
"For now, merely rest. Seek me at the Bradhaven Temple, two days
hence." Merri started to protest, but before she could get a word out the
world around her blurred once more, and she found herself in a familiar
room, her usual quarters when staying in Hurshtown. The events of the night
finally caught up with her, and it was all she could do to climb into bed
before sleep took her at last.
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