Secrets of the Spheres Part Three
Thirty-First Day of the Tenth Month 293 AC
The sun had long since set, the wine cups emptied and filled again more often than anyone can count by the time you have something approaching an answer to the question of with whom to share the truth of the Sundering and how. Firstly, that all branch heads and inquisitors must know, with constant tests throughout the career of any promising agent to judge if they can bear the burden. Alysande, an inquisitor herself though she still bears the seal of the silver eye, is quick to point out that it would be unwise to share the truth with every one of her colleagues at once. "Unless our enemies are all fools, they will see a pattern to every senior ember of the inquisition suddenly finding faith, a few hours forgetfulness at the bottom of a wine cup, or however they choose to deal with the shock. I admit freely, Your Grace, that when I get home I will probably keep drinking without the magic to wipe it all away..."
Uthero grips her hand in sympathy, but his attention is still on the discussion. "And it's not just going to be inquisitors, Your Grace. Soldiers, clerks, and sorcerers, all of them are going to want to be with their families, they are going to try to use divinations to ensure the souls of kith and kin who have passed on are safe, probably pushing those who are still alive to be more pious. All that worry is not going to be doing wonders for their jobs, at least if we spread it out there will be others to pick up the slack line before the sail flies."
"And I'm afraid the scholarum will be hit the worst, since we have to tell all instructors," Teana sighs, her shadow seeming to sink in on herself. "I agree with the need, even working towards telling all mages who graduate, but it will impact our studies."
"Better to be slow now than risk bitterness and despair later," you reply, the
report on the cult of the masque and its mad leader fresh in your mind. He had been abandoned by his god in the face of torture, and so you could easily imagine a fiend presenting the truth of the Sundering as 'proof' that the Imperium had abandoned them to the eternal torments of damnation.
"What of you, Ser Gerold?" you ask the quiet knight. "How quickly do you judge the high command can be informed?"
"Thankfully, we are not at war, Your Grace. Well, I suppose you could say we are at war with the Seven Kingdoms, but with the fleets of Braavos and Volantis added to our own, only a madman would try the crossing, never mind the dragons and darkenbeasts. Most of what we are doing these days is being lawmen in armor for places they haven't gotten around to, at least outside of places like New Lys'os, but if you told the men stationed there that Hell had swallowed up Heaven, they would likely sigh, point at the sky, and say they'd figured as much already."
"How
have matters gone in New Lys'os this month?" you interject, satisfied with the answer, and even the grim humor at the end. Gerold had been one of those you worried about the most, because he had not been involved in any of your more esoteric dealings since you had been fighting lemures in Braavos, and unlike Alinor, he had not been keeping an ear out for them either, more concerned with deployments and conventional troop counts. "I have not gotten the report as of this morning."
"They lost a few men to some kind of dream eater that looked like an old crone, but the Sisters of Battle chased it off," he nods towards Mereth, and they, with the help of archons out of Mantarys, tracked it down and killed it.
Gained Night Hag Corpse (CR 9; 8 HD)
"A night hag," you muse, their ilk would be right at home in a place of lost spirits and broken dreams. "Did they recover the body?"
"Already been delivered to the forge, Your Grace," the general replies, the thought of delivering the bodies of dead foes to the flesh-forge as natural to him as any other ordering of supplies. Though you would never ask, you wonder if he felt the same about the bodies unearthed from Esaria, men he might have served besides under the banners of the Golden company.
Instead, you turn to address the room at large: "This is going to cost some people far more than their peace of mind, or their effectiveness for a few short weeks. It is going to cost them their lives, let us not pretend otherwise. It is our responsibility as officials with more mental fortitude than the average citizen to protect this knowledge and see it safely into the hands of those who will act equally responsibly in our work against that which our Enemy deems inevitable."
As your gaze passes over Relath and Amrelath, you look them each in turn in the eye and add: "Although the average person is unable to cope with this knowledge, despair on such a scale is simply a tool for our Foe. It benefits Nothing and No One. In this case the weakness of the body is a weakness of the mind, and we are of that mind. Do you all understand?" If not for compassion's sake than a resolution to be better than either Valyria or the Ancestors that came before even them, to refuse to allow this blight to continue as it pleased, ignored until there was nothing more that they could do to stop it. "A world which we can live in as we please is impossible, if it's one the majority cannot bear to."
"No need to teach us hatchling's lessons," the lord of Tolos replies evenly. Amrelath is silent. He, after all, cannot claim that was a lesson the wymrs of the red flight took to heart. Both dragons nod.
"Let us make that better world, then. Together," you once more address all present, mortal and spirit, be they born to a lord's keep, a magister's manse, the jungles of Sothorys, or drawn from the depths of the Far Realm.
What do you do next?
[] Make a further proposal
-[] Write in
[] Conclude the meeting
-[] Scry the Chosen of the Smith
-[] Recive the report on summonings and True Names
[] Write in
OOC: I'm not sure what else you guys would like to decide on here so I put a break point here. Not yet edited.