The Throne of the Gods

An Exchange

Ayrion came down the stairs, his hair clean for the first time in weeks. The innkeeper had loaned him a robe and Danneci had sent for a tailor and barber. The Elven woman seemed to have a good deal of money and seemed to be well respected in this city. The innkeeper had directed him to one of the inn’s largest rooms upon seeing him arrive with the Elven woman. The furnishings were luxurious and a deep brass bathtub was made ready for him in short order. While he had been in the bath a servant had been sent up with warm spiced wine. It was almost like the stories he had heard of being invited to the council of Freeport

He stood at the bottom of the stairs and glance at the inn's few patrons. He was about to inquire after his host when one of the serving girls rushed over to him and hustled him into a private room. Danneci stood as he entered and her eyes roamed over him as if measuring him against the man she had seen in the woods. Ayrion was unsure of how to feel about her frank appraisal, so he just took a seat at the table. The table was laden with food, more food than he had seen in weeks. He put some on a plate in front of him and began to eat, slowly, not wanting to upset his stomach with overeating.

Danneci raised a thin eyebrow.

“No praise to Allydon,” she asked. “I noticed you didn't do the usual rites for those you slew either. “

“No,” Ayrion said simply. “We were here to discuss what those men wanted with you.”

Danneci flushed. “I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

Ayrion shrugged and continued to eat slowly. “You first,” he said.

Danneci brushed back her hair and began to pace.

“I have what might be called a reputation,” she began. “You might have noticed that these people do pretty much what I tell them. I don't have any real authority with these people or this town. I don't even try to foster the behavior in them. After a while I just live with it. “

She took a cup of wine from the table and sipped at it.

“I moved here about twenty years ago. I had been run off from the last town I had lived in by a group of militant priests.” She spit out the last two words with such venom that Ayrion paused from his meal and looked up with some concern; after all, he had been a militant priest. She wasn't looking at him; however, she was looking somewhere distant.

“I set up a small jeweler's shop here in town,” she continued, “and began a small trade in gemstones and jewelry. I am very good at what I do and my business flourished. Soon after I had moved here I was once again what some would call wealthy. Being of Elven heritage people are naturally curious about me and so many invitations from the wealthy and powerful come to me. Soon people began to seek favors. These favors are things I can accomplish for a small fee. You have seen me cast my magic; in this too I am not unskilled. I am not, however, a member of any church or mages guild. Not here, and not within the Elven nations. “

Her eyes sought out and captured Ayrion's; there was an emotion in them that reminded him of his pain. It was as if he could read within their depths the anguish of his own soul. Slowly he wrapped his mind around what she was saying.

“You are a sorcerer,” he said with infinitely more calm than he felt. The church had warned about these practitioners of black magic. Their powers came not from a deity or from study into the mystical forces of reality, but from the realms of demons. It was a dark and forbidden power.

“Yes,” she said, turning away. “People in power always seek out ways to keep themselves in power and so they come to me. Mostly for easy things, I don't do the witches brews of potions and concoctions, I use charisma and persuasion to do most of my work and I rarely take more than is needed.”

She sat back down at the table, and began to idly play with the food on her plate.

“People in power have rivals. Rivals don't like to wait for the power to pass on to them by the normal means. I don’t play rivals. I won't remove a standing mayor just to give it to a tyrant. That is the reason those two thugs broke into my home and attempted to take me away. Their boss, a bandit named Lassitor, wants me to help him take over.

“He has tried to get me to meet with him before, and I have always turned him down. Now he sends thugs to try to force me. I could have simply killed them. Unfortunately, it would have led to revealing more about me than I am willing to, and people here could have been hurt. Lassitor is an evil man and I will not concede to his will.” She drank deeply at her wine and remained silent, staring across the table at the knight who had saved her.

Ayrion continued to eat while he took in all the details of her story. If it was true then it called into question what he had been told about sorcerers. Why should she care who believed they held the reins of power, she would be pulling the strings. Sorcerers were the intermediaries for the fiends from the lower planes. People sold them their souls in exchange for power or love or what have you, and the sorcerers’ then sold those souls to the demons and devils. The longer she held the soul the more control she had over her “client”.

They were evil beings ascribed many acts of wickedness. It was said that they could change their form at will. Their magic could twist a mind and force one to do their bidding. They sacrificed people to the fiends. They were soulless, having sold their own souls to obtain the powers that they have.

What disturbed him more was that he sensed no evil from this woman. It's true that she could have cloaked her intentions in magic, but that would have dulled his senses when he met her in the woods. He had sensed the evil in her captors. The people who waited on him at this inn had not appeared to fear her as much as respect her. Ayrion was shaken greatly at this point and he was having a hard time reconciling his feelings on the matter.

Danneci was sitting across the table from him. She quietly watched as he wrestled with his inner demons. It was obvious that she was waiting for him to pass judgment on her. But how could he even begin to judge her actions? She had acted ethically, she had even allowed herself to be captured so that there would be no altercation were others would be hurt. Would he have done any differently in her circumstances?

Ayrion drew in a deep breath, he was about to lay bare his soul, and placing trust in a person he had been taught to fear was not an easy task.

“Do you know of Freeport?” It was more of a stalling tactic than a real question. He was only a few weeks foot travel from Freeport and it was the most powerful trade port in the region. Danneci nodded and so he was compelled to continue.

“Freeport is gone.” Ayrion was surprised by the lack of emotion in his voice. “A force of evil came over the city and wiped out every living thing within it. Nothing held the invasion back. No force of arms, no magic, no god, could change the devastation that took place.”

“How long ago,” she asked.

“I have been traveling for three weeks. I left the morning after it happened.”

“That would explain a lot,” Danneci mused. “Would you be able to describe what happened? Were you close enough to see?”

“I was in the city,” Ayrion yelled, the pent-up emotion that he had felt disconnected from came down upon him in a flood. “I watched the city, my city, get ripped apart by this evil. I fought against the monstrosities that walked the streets and mutilated the common folk as well as the soldiers.” He slammed the table with his palm, disrupting the food and spilling some to the floor. “I watched while creatures from out of the deepest of nightmares taunted our wizards and threw their spells back at them. I watched my best friend die from a scratch, a scratch! Was I close enough to see? These invaders laughed at all the priests, they defiled all the temples. They crucified the city council, leaving their blood upon the courthouse walls in some sort of profane writing. The city is all dead, not even the carrion eaters will enter within the walls.” He slumped in his chair, his rage played out. He felt defeated, and lost.

“Your pardon,” Danneci said, “When you said every living thing was destroyed I thought you meant it.”

He looked up at her at that. A faint spark of faith lit within him. Was he alone spared for a reason? Did Allydon still have a purpose for him? His soul was still dark and cold, however, and the spark found no kindling to ignite and so faded away again.

“I believe we can help one another,” Danneci continued. “If you will help me rid this town of the vile Lassitor, I will help you discover the who and why of Freeport's destruction. I have the means of gaining information. With that knowledge perhaps you can see justice carried out, or revenge if that is your preference.”