Of Flesh and Faith
Eighteenth Day of the Second Month 294 AC
Ever since her first visit to the court in Sorcerer's Deep where she and her companions bent the knee to the Dragon King, Ceria had been keenly aware of the power the companions wielded, not only in the king's council, but each in their own way by their arts and powers, the king and his fire, of word and magic both, the sage and her knowledge of the world's secrets, the Knight of Skulls and Kisses, like the very image of the Warrior and no doubt willing to fight the god himself if his king commanded him, but among that august company the sorceress's eye had slipped over one too quickly.
Having seen the Lady Tyene cast down golden light light the glare of the Dornish sun and scour foes' flesh from bones like the breath of the desert wind, she had forgotten one facet.
Good with herbs and potions, Denys had said and Ceria had assumed that meant poison. It was the sort of thing Oberyn Martell, Oberyn
Sandviper now, would see to that his daughter was taught. He had made good use of poison, as the name could well attest. All that said, Ceria had assumed the lady's interests in alchemy were as limited as her lover's these days.
The truth showed itself to be rather different, in the form of five Unsullied still wearing the faded green of House Pahl stacked in the middle of the safe house's cellar long since converted into a network of holding cells by the local commissar.
"Were you not supposed to be merely scouting?" the Lord Justice asked, one eyebrow raised ever so briefly in askance.
"I found a chance to poison an entire patrol without leaving any trace of magic behind, it would have been a pity to waste the opportunity, especially since one of them is a centurion," came the cheerful reply.
"An officer?" Criston asked, looking down at the slave soldier she had motioned to still in the grip of the poison. "Doesn't look like much."
"Officer is too 'prideful' a thing for the Masters of Slaver's Bay to allow their soldiers, but military units must have a hierarchy to function," Ceria explained.
How much thwarted pride curdled to malice is there to this diabolic rebellion? she wondered. She did not for a moment believe it was possible to give someone power over their fellow man and not have them feel pride in the act. Perhaps that was the cardinal folly of the heirs of Ghis, they had come to believe their own lies, that the slave soldiers were somehow less than humans, and would not act as humans do to free themselves even unto utmost peril.
"Were you able to involve one of the Houses who still keep to the Harpy in the doing?" the Lord Justice asked. They had chosen Pahl, after all, because it was the latest to come into the embrace of Baator and likely to be attacked by the Sons of the Harpy, both to discourage others from making the same pact and in the hopes that they would not be as prepared for to repel an attack as other hell-bound Houses.
"Killed an overseer, stole some documents, carved a harpy's talon into his chest," the lady explained with chilling straightforwardness. "I'm not the best carver, but then I imagine the Sons of the Harpy recruit more for enthusiasm than sense. I knocked out the guards with a concotion of deathswort and nightshade, so their fellows thought they were dead, then stole the 'bodies' afterwards. There shouldn't be any sign that someone has living Unsullied to study."
"And it would be difficult to divine the fact given that it involves all of us," Lord Vanor said with a sort of cool satisfaction that sent a small chill down Ceria's spine. It was a very fortunate thing indeed that fate had not conspired to make her this man's enemy.
***
The studies and interrogation that followed revealed much as what the Lady Melisandre had anticipated in many regards. The Unsullied had been made stronger, faster, and far more resilient than ordinary men and also utterly
untouched by pain. Had they been limited to mundane physical means of interrogation, it was quite likely they would have failed to learn anything more. Fortunately, the Lord Justice's skills extended far beyond such methods, allowing him to spy within the mind of the centurion they had captured, to see it
reaching blindly for his still unconscious fellows.
Untouched by fear or pain, able to strike harder, move swifter and take more punishment than flesh alone should be able to endure, even able to shrug off many magics of the first three circles which were the pinnacle of most mages craft. The final accounting did not make for comforting reading. Ceria hoped the legion would prove itself in the fires of battle this month, for they had yet worse foes to face here in slaver's bay.
Secrets of flesh and sorcery were not the only ones unveiled, for the centurion had been among one 'blessed' upon the Temple of the Lady Defiant which lay not in Meereen nor in Younkai, but Astapor beneath the Plaza of Punishment, whose spell-shrouded way would only open to blood sacrifice to the Lady of Spears made 'in the new way'. The words were Infernal, a pledge of service to Asmodeous through their goddess. Ceria had no doubt all those who spoke them would be held to account by the baatezu, though they knew not the meaning.
Denys hesitantly suggested warning the Unsullied of what they are pledging, but to Ceria's surprise it is Ting who shakes his head sadly. "If one's path is made hell upon this earth by the whims of another, few would deny a hell more distant that promises relief in the moment."
What next?
[] Shift forces to Astapor in an attempt to disrupt operations there
[] Contact the Sons of the Harpy and offer them resources to better serve as a thorn in the devils' side
[] Attack the lesser forge in the Yunkai aquifer
[] Write in
OOC: I took a bit more time with this, there weren't really a lot of novel motivations here, but it let lent the characters a bit more depth. Hope this works. Also the runescared template does not come with a curse, that sort of shoddy fits demons more than devils, when you sell your soul to Baator you get a solid product. Not yet edited.