Damned Gods

[Forrestfire]

(Alternatively, "I'm goddamn bad at titles and names." OoC Thread here.)

The party, having just finished doing some sort of thing that adventuring (the halfling tribe you helped were very greatful, and gave you new supplies), is walking through the plains with the intent of going... somewhere. Your current location is a bit south of Karrnath, near the border with the Mournland. Far the east, the Mournland's vast walls of mist are barely visible on the horizon, and the sun hangs bright in the sky. The weather's pretty nice, not too hot and not too cold. At one point a flock of clawfoots (clawfeet?) was seen in the distance, looking for something to hunt.

Whatever conversation the party might have been having is abruptly interrupted by a searingly bright pillar of blue and white fire, burning a large circle into the tall grass of the plains. Just as abruptly, the flame subsides, revealing a brightly glowing woman in ornate mithril armor and blue-accented clothing. She bears the emblem of the Silver Flame on her breastplate, and in her hand is a gleaming longsword, alight with blue flame. It is quite obvious who this woman is, she looks exactly like the paladin Tira Miron, who dove into the Silver Flame itself to bind a demon.

What's less obvious is that she's injured. There are several large cuts and gashes on her face and arms, and her armor is damaged. Where bleeding wounds on a normal person would be are instead patches of silver fire, seemingly replacing her flesh and equipment where pieces are gouged out.

She looks around, vaguely confused for a moment, before hardening her face at the sight of the party. Tira Miron points her sword, announcing in an echoing voice:

"Foul necromancer, you will be purged by the light of the Silver Flame! I challenge th..."

Towards the end of her declaration, she trails off and falls forward, collapsing into unconsciousness. The glow abruptly fades, and as her sword leaves her hand, it evaporates into puffs of blue fire before reappearing in its sheath at her belt.

What do you do?

[Taveena]

"Strictly speaking, I'm not a necroMANCER," Valeska says, biting at her lip. "I mean. Half right. So that's something!"

[Lord_Gareth]

"Not an ethically correct response, Valeska," Chime says in a quiet, worried voice as she rushes to the fallen woman's side. The aasimar cradles the paladin's head, murmuring prayers in Celestial under her breath.

"Trivia, she needs healing," Chime says in a soft but firm tone.

[Forrestfire]

The woman's wounds appear to be slowly regenerating, her physical form reconstituting itself from the blueish-gray flames.

[Powerdork]

The robed psiforged tromps forward, ensuring placement between the necromancer and The Paladin, kneels down before the latter, and utters a prayer in the language of reality.

"Verialin dosen huninsepin" rolls off the silver tongue of the Cannith construct.

[Forrestfire]

Reality attempts to warp itself to meet Trivia's instructions, but nothing appears to happen.

[Taveena]

Valeska rolls her eyes, before drawing her Wakizashi with a flourish. She walks up to the fallen Paladin and places her now faintly glowing hand (which is presently faintly pulsing with necrocarnum, though it does no harm) on the Paladin.

"There. Ethically 'Correct' enough for you?"

[Forrestfire]

This does have an effect, her wounds healing a bit faster. She stays passed out facedown in the circle of burnt grass.

[Alea]

Alea trots up, and lowers her scimitar-blade down to the woman's throat, holding it near the opposite blade. As she looks down impassively, she points out, "And yours was not the tactically correct response, Chime. Flashy entrance or not, what's a Thranite doing here?"

Alea scans around for more Thranes, or anyone else drawn by the flame, but keeps an eye on the woman.

[Powerdork]

Trivia tries to push the blades away. "There are a number of questions we should be asking, such as: Why is Tira Miron here? Why is Tira Miron injured? And should we send Valeska away before we try to wake Tira Miron?"

[Alea]

Alea's eyes narrow at Trivia. "You know her name..?"

[Powerdork]

"I know most of the names worth knowing, and I especially know this one." The warforged proceeds to explain the Silver Flame, the Church of the Silver Flame, and how much danger the world may be in, if Tira Miron is here, in this state.

[Taveena]

"Ssssso... what, demon on the loose?" Valeska says, sheathing her sword. "We gonna have to escort her back to the pillar of whatsit, or is the whole dealy moot now?"

[Lord_Gareth]

"She's injured, Valeska. We need to see to her hurts before we see to anything else. If..." Chime sighs, unhappily. "If you might take yourself out of immediate sight before she awakens?"

[Alea]

"Different rules apply to gods and demons and mad-shapers," Alea says in response to Chime.

[Taveena]

"Should I drag the Death Knight off too," Valeska says, jerking a thumb in Karleigh's direction, "Or can she actually tell the difference between a necrocarnate and a girl in bone armor? Cuz I ain't optimistic."

[Anatidae]

"Not only am I fully capable of carrying myself, but I really would hope that she would be able to tell. Though, I'm not entirely optimistic either."

The half-orc shifts, but isn't 'carrying herself' anywhere, evidently.

"Still something to consider. Not a bad idea. Without the dragging."

[Alea]

"This is a hero's choice; your action here defines your spirit. Your spirits don't last long, but they deserve better than to hide from history."

[Taveena]

"So if she tries to kill me again, we mob her?

[Alea]

Alea simply looks down the length of her weapon to Tira Miron's throat. "I have made my first choice."

[Lord_Gareth]

"Alea!" Chime says sharply. "Have you no heart? This woman needs help, not murder. She has done nothing to harm us."

[Taveena]

"... She was gonna challenge either me or Karleigh to something? Probably not a killy thing, but. Hey. I'm up for that."

[Alea]

"Her armies have slain thousands of my kinsmen, millions of fellow Karrnathi to Karleigh and Valeska, and she already attacked one of our number. Even were she mortal, she would be a foe and enemy. But she is not; the rules are different for gods and demons, and she is both.

"Which is why she is not dead. Had I intended her death, my blade would be through, not on, her throat. Such would be the response to a mortal foe. But for a god, the rules are different."

[Anatidae]

"The rules for a demon would say that she should die. The rules for a god say that she would not."

Karleigh's eyes narrow, slightly, and her stance shifts, for a moment, before her shoulders slacken and her expression loses its anger.

"The rules for the wounded say that we should give her a chance. Without killing her until we have to. "

"If we have to."

[Alea]

"I have told you before, you follow rules that are not. The rules for god and demon alike are to know no limit, to acknowledge no shame, to offer no quarter. There is no shame in retreat from disaster, no dishonor in cheating the tempest, no respite in treating the inferno.

"Know this, and make your choices."

This is quite a speech from the generally-terse Alea. Her blade remains firmly pressed against the god's throat.

[Forrestfire]

Unlike a normal throat, the flesh touching the blade gives little resistance and the blade sinks a tiny bit into the paladin's neck. However, rather than a wound, there is only a small gash filled with silver fire, slowly regenerating.

[Anatidae]

Karleigh glowers, turning her gaze away from both Alea and the Paladin- as well as the other members of the party, but remaining quiet- which is exactly how she was prone to responding to things when she wasn't certain of how she would articulate her objections. Of which, of course, there were a good deal.

The choice she seems to be making is that of inaction.

[Taveena]

Valeska stretches her arms above her head, yawning. She glances at Chime and Trivia, a slight smirk on her face. WHAT WILL THEY DO?

[Lord_Gareth]

"Alea, this woman needs our help," Chime repeats in a soft, but firm tone. "Retreat to a safe distance if you fear her wrath. If you do not, I see no need for the blade. In either event, I am helping her. I'm certain she was delirious with pain before, and will be much more reasonable when she awakens. This woman...she's a hero, Alea."

[Taveena]

"She still looks... sort of silver-flame-y, I guess. Not that silver-flame-y. But a little."