Brazen Wolfe Tabletop

Forgiveness through Murder

531WeFoThMu

The room that the party were staying in rang with Brenna Flintshard’s fury as she beat on the thick wooden door. As the door opened she thrust Elaric Fen into the centre of the space with surprising strength from the dwarven rogue. Her grip firm, her eyes glittering with disgust as she stared daggers into Elaric and his priestly robes. A hatred burning within that the party had not seen in an age. Dust rose beneath their boots as the warrior, Tharen Voss followed close behind, and the rest of the party watched, weapons sheathed but nerves drawn tight. ‘You led him to them,’ Brenna growled. ‘To their altar. Their trap.’ The room was silent.

Elaric didn’t resist. He knelt, not out of submission but exhaustion. ‘I serve Imiriel,’ he began quietly. ‘She teaches remembrance. That all endings are sacred from the meek to the mighty. When the High Priests summoned me, they claimed her silence was a condemnation. That Carlo’s dual blessings mocked every god and that she was silent because of him. They told me his sacrifice would preserve balance.’

Tharen stepped forward, his expression carved from iron yet something smouldered as if he hearing this admittance of guilt for the first time. ‘So you chose her silence over his trust?’ the older warrior’s voice cracked like thunder. A bitter gust howled outside, swirling ash against grime covered glass panes.

‘I was bound,’ Elaric murmured. ‘Not just by the temple’s rites, but by grief, guilt and my oath to follow the high priests. They twisted the doctrine until it sounded like duty. Told me Carlo’s soul would scatter if we didn’t act. I begged Imiriel for guidance. But she doesn’t command, she remembers. And remembering means I must bear the shame and the outcome of my actions.’

‘You didn’t just let it happen,’ Brenna snapped after being silent for a while as she grabbed at his tunic and lifted him off the ground a few inches. ‘You walked him into it. You called it faith.’ She shoved him back and the clack-clack-clack of dropping beads punctuated the exchange. Looking in her hand she scowled and hurled a shattered bead of prayer crystal at his robes. ‘This is what your goddess gave you?’

Elaric’s face tightened. ‘She gave me the sorrow of memories of what I have done to preserve balance, that and silence. Along with the the weight of every choice I have made and am yet to come.’ His voice trembled. ‘And when Carlo called out as they clasped cursed irons to him. It was only when I saw the power drain from him, when they drained his light, I felt her weep a single tear. Not from anger, but from love. I broke the promise of endings. And she turned her face away.’

Brenna drew a tattered book with its pages edges frayed and ink fading. ‘I went looking for clues, for answers as to how he could have died. If he had indeed been struck by a blade then he would have felt it. He wrote this the night before he was claimed to be dead.’ she paused before she read from the book. ‘They fear what I carry. If it kills me, forgive them. If it saves me, trust in her.’ She looked up, lips curled. ‘He meant this for you.’ she threw the book, a journal, at Elaric.

Elaric lowered his gaze towards the book and read. ‘Let me honour her now. Let me help undo what I helped bind.’ He looked to Tharen, to Brenna and to the party, ‘I am not worthy of your forgiveness but I can do this. Trust in the man that fought along side you in the Deep halls. I’ll stand beside you once more as we save Carlo -I know where he is kept but they will only let me in. Stand with me with your blades once more, if your swords do not strike me down first.’

Elaric knelt there head bowed low as tears dropped down his cheeks. ‘I didn’t stop them then, but I will end this now.’ and as he knelt there something stirred in the air and a single blue feather floated to rest upon the book at the feet of the cleric.

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