“Hello, mother!”
Amalielle nearly shouted with glee.
Siggertha
Bjornsdottr turned in surprise from where she knelt. She had been meditating in prayer before the
statue of her patron, General Ambrielle en’Teiva, in the center of the Chapel’s
courtyard when the unexpected visitors arrived.
“Amalielle?” she asked uncertainly, rising to her
feet. “How did y---“
Before she could
finish her question, the younger aasimar crushed her in a hug.
“I brought my
friend, Callista, here to meet you before we returned to Vaasa.” She replied, gesturing at the powerful
warrior that had followed her into the courtyard. “I brought us here by the grace of Tyr.”
“You shifted
through the planes of existence?” The
emerald skinned paladin murmured in even greater surprise. “How is this possible, my child? Your power has grown so quickly…”
“Indeed!” an
unfamiliar voice called out from across the courtyard. “And this is a most welcome development, my
lass. Evil encircles your quest, and you
will need all the power you can summon!”
The speaker was a tall, handsome Viking leaning against a column and
drinking a large tankard of mead.
“Fandral!” the
High Lady of the Chapel chided. “We cannot discuss such things here in the
open. Come, child, you and
Callista. We must discuss your purpose
here and share tidings!”
The assembled
warriors retired into the closed confines of the chapel to converse, leaving
several sets of prying eyes and ears behind…
* * * *
“So you have been
watching us?” The priestess and the
half-orc glanced at each other sideways.
“Aye, child,” she
replied “Since I first realized you had left the Chapel several weeks ago.”
“Was anyone else
watching?”
“None that we
could detect. Fandral has been of great
help to me in this regard, however, and together we have been able to search in
ways I could not have done alone.”
The green-clad
swashbuckler bowed low, and grinned. “We
could not find the Trickster, if he is about, but he is incomparably sly. He may also have sent a servant afield that
we have not as yet identified. But never
fear, lass, if he is skulking in the shadows, we shall find him and draw him
out!”
“But we lost you
when you entered into the Keep of Loddfafnir.
I suspect all of the structures of that cursed place are warded against
scrying,” She explained. “We did not
know that you had come back to the Cage, but I am very glad to see you.”
“Even so,” she
continued, “There is great evil in that place, whether Loki is there or
no. You must all prepare yourselves for
what lies ahead, and let your faith guide you.”
Siggertha rose and
gestured toward the door.
“Come,” she said
to them, smiling. “Join us in the open air of the chapel before you
depart. I am made to understand someone
has a gift for you.”
They rose from
their chairs near the fire and made their way back to the courtyard.
* * * *
Fandral lingered against one of the pillars as the
emerald paladin walked toward the gleaming statue in the center of the
courtyard, flanked by Callista and Amalielle.
When they had come
to stand before the image of General Ambrielle, Siggertha gestured and the
young adventurers stepped forward and knelt before the statue, bowing their
heads in silent prayer, and offering their blades up before them in both
hands. As they meditated, the gentle, golden light that emanated from the statue began to slowly brighten.
After several
moments, the light had become as bright as daylight, bathing the young
adventurers in its holy radiance. A
commanding, yet gentle, voice filled their minds.
Welcome, my children, to the Chapel of Resounding
Justice. I am Ambrielle en’Teiva,
Fiendslayer and General of the Angelic Host of Gladsheim. Your deeds have not gone unnoticed amongst
the good and the wise. Hear my counsel.
The wickedness in
Reaver Hall grows in strength each day, and neither myself, nor my Lord, would
see such evil spill forth into the lands beyond. I am resolved to aid you in your righteous
quest.
I give to you the
gift of truesilver, that which is prized most by my heavenly kin above all other
metals. Let its purity stand as proof
against the evils you must face. Know
that the thralls of hell await you, and just as truesilver is beloved of the
angels, it is feared and reviled by all devils, for it pierces their foul hides
as a knife pierces paper.
Go forth, and
bring some part of this place with you, that it may comfort you and lighten
your heart in the dark times to come.
May the
Lawbringer smile upon you and give you
his grace.
As the Solar’s presence receded, the blazing light slowly
faded until it had returned to its normal, gentle glow.
Amalielle and
Callista rose in unison, noting that their blades and armor had taken on a
silvery hue that had not been there before.
Their weapons felt stronger and more balanced, and their armor felt
lighter and less burdensome.
Siggertha embraced
each of them in turn, bidding them farewell, and wishing them victory against
their foes.
* * * *
The other Reavers waited for them outside the gate. The Halfling had been musing to himself when
the angelic statue flared to life.
Momentarily distracted from his thoughts about the sweet lewts that
waited for him at Estevan’s, he glanced furtively into the courtyard, unsure
what might happen if he passed into its confines. The dark elf, however, held no illusions. The bright light was painful to her eyes, and
its aura made her visibly uncomfortable.
She would approach no more than twenty paces from the entrance way.
Whatever dwelt in
that courtyard was unknown to her.
Unknown and unknowable. It was
not forged in the endless darkness of the World Below. It was not hardened by the task mistress’s
whip, nor shaped by the desire for naked power. “Useless,” she whispered to
herself.
“What?” the
sharp-eared Cassim asked, once more distracted from his pleasant daydreams.
“I said you are
useless,” the drow snarled in irritation. “Useless in combat, and most other
things, as well.”
The halfling
shrugged. He was used to her
demeanor. The drow was certainly smoking
hot, and he definitely had enjoyed watching her first ‘encounter’ with Kilarra,
but Aunrae had an acid tongue. Good
thing Kilarra had acid resistance he snickered to himself otherwise she
would have had one hell of a limp. His
thoughts quickly turned back to his new goodies, and he smiled contentedly to
himself, quickly forgetting all other distractions.
As the half-orc warrior and the aasimar priestess joined them outside the chapel, the group moved on, ready to conclude their business and return to the challenges of Reaver Hall.
* * * *
“The child has your eyes, Fandral. It would be patently obvious to even the
blindest grimlock,” she mused after the others had left. “Her father’s chin. But your eyes.”
Fandral the
Dashing laughed merrily.
“Ah, my good
Siggertha,” he sighed. “The lass may
have our features on the outside, but on the inside she is your child through
and through. A first glance may say
otherwise, but her every action speaks the truth of it.”
Fandral leaned
back and hefted his huge mug. He looked
at her before he drank, suddenly serious.
“The time was
right, her peril is great. You should
have told her. It might have been your
only chance to tell her who she really is to you.”
As the immortal Viking drank, Siggertha wondered if she would ever see her daughter alive again.
* * * *
“I thought you said Dame Siggertha was your
foster-mother? ”Callista asked her as they wound their way back through the
streets of Sigil to the shop of the ogre mage, Estevan.
“I did,” the
priestess responded, sidestepping a pack of tiefling guttersnipes before they
could get too close to the coins in her belt pouch. “Why?”
The half-orc
warrior looked blankly at her as they walked.
“What?” she asked
growing slightly irritated.
“Nothing,”
Callista replied, rolling her eyes. The
two walked the rest of the way in silence, lost in their own thoughts.