RP: Recruited

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It's Variday, Daeshen 19 12:41:05 1018. The full moon isn't up. The tide is high and ebbing. Chilly rain falls from a grey sky. It's bleak and raw. The wind blows from the east.

A14: Caverns Beneath the Artificer's Hall


So while you have meet with Fazahd on several occasions, it hasn't been...official. Right? Because he is a priest. Or, apparently, was a priest. He sure isn't now.

The invitation is from Enginebreaker Masterbuilder, not Forge. That's not a priest. That's an Inquisitor. It even has a seal.

And so you are summoned to the underoffices of the Hall of Artifice, recently exposed when the whole building just...got up on spider legs as if a mouse had run through its skirts. It hasn't come down, and the Reosians have secured the area with temple guards and other security - one of whom receives you as you arrive, and directs you down through a massive door of stone and metal into a system of offices and cramped halls, most of which have been scrubbed clean by acolytes (but some bear heavy scorch marks, it must be said.) Fazahd is in one of these offices, sitting in one of three simple wooden chairs that are the only decoration save for a large devotional seal of Reos bolted into the wall behind him. He is...well. Dressed like an Inquisitor, certainly. Reads from a thick leather-bound book.

Ga'Elian goes where directed, his curiosity piqued as he is unaccustomed to being summoned and unaccustomed to being underground. Still, as a member of the Explorers' Guild, he has had to get accustomed to new things often lately. As he walks into Fazahd's presence, he looks around a moment, then bows slightly, in friendly greeting with a mere touch of formality, but with confidence and preternatural grace all the same. He says, "Good day, Master Fazahd. You asked for me to pay you a visit here?"

"I did," he says, looking up from his reading. "I did. Sit down, won't you please?"

Ga'Elian does take a seat, although he has to shift his scabbard to accomodate sitting. (A bastard sword slung over the shoulder is just a bit awkward in a chair.)

"So. I will be blunt." He gestures behind you, to an office across the hall - an office which has yet another extremely heavy, well-barred door. "Through that door is a passage beneath the city, and be believe thatit leads directly into Morduzum."

Ga'Elian looks up as if visibly searching his mental archives. He says, "Sorry for my ignorance, but that name holds no meaning for me. What is Morduzum?"

"Morduzum," Fazahd says. "Are you familiar with your people's legends of Estania? Of the war between my people, your people and the oruch in ancient days, and the Great Meld that brought peace to them? The coming of the Mogareg? Any of that?"

Ga'Elian says, "I confess, not much. Oh, I have heard some of the old ballads, but my learning has frankly been more focused on the attack against The Ygdrassil Tree and the migration of my ancient ancestors from the realms of fae, and of the ways of the forest. Still, the deeds of old times are important, I well know. Is this Morzudum a Khazadi hell?"

Fazahd snorts faintly. "In a manner of speaking," he says. "Let me tell you a story." And so a tale he does tell, of the coming of the Khazadi to the area after the War of Three Anvils, the battles with the elves and the oruch, the peace that followed, and the eventual collapse of Morduzum when the oruch turned to infernalism and became the Mogareg. It is...a long, involved story, but it all leads to the same thing: horrible monsters underground, ancient powers, artifice and magic predating even ancient Kulthus. And the whole area, if not the world, is potentially at risk. Had Fazahd not seen the Hells with his own eyes not two weeks previous, he would probably have agreed with the estimation. (Reference to Archived_History_Local#The_Settling_of_the_Oruch.2C_Sildanyar.2C_and_Khazad)

As Elian listens, his face registers a couple of A-ha moments, particularly at the mention of Ra'Tenniel and the accords he crafted. As the account winds around to the fiendish oruchs, a wild fury seems to ignite a glow from deep within the ranger's heart, shining out through his eyes and registering a feral ferocity in his face. He says, "Keen has become my interest in the battling of fiend-kind. In fact, I have been gathering as much demon-lore as I could find recently, in order to better fight the foul brutes. Now, am I most eager indeed to explore the depths of this passage."

"Which brings us to my bringing you here," Fazahd says. "You may have noticed the change of dress and title - well. As it happens, the Father has, in His eternal wisdom, sought to change me. I am no longer a priest. I am, as you may know, a holy agent, an Enginebreaker. Or, the more generic term would be Inquisitor. That's what this is, you see. An Inquisition. While the greater organizational and political work is being done amongst the temple elders and greater members of the Artificer's Guild, I am organizing the functional end - they point, we punch. I say 'we', because this is a recruitment meeting, you see. I want you to join us."

Ga'Elian smiles like he has just been given a powerful secret. "I am honored at the invitation, and am absolutely on board with this. When fighting fiendish hordes, the strength of numbers is not lightly to be ignored."

"It is a secret, for now, yes," Fazahd says with a nod. "But your people need to know about it. The Wardens of the Mythwood have stood guard for thousands of years, trying to prevent this situation - however, as I told lady Iadoth just last night, politics may doom this as easily as monsters. We must be quiet, and we must be wary. Like patient hunters, you see?"

Ga'Elian shrugs. "I will take your word for it. I know very little of the politics of civilized cultures, and really am not interested to sort them out." He winks at that last comment.

"Well done, then," Fazahd says with a chuckle. "I shall send you to the enemy as a hunter, and not a politician. You realize, though, that you will need to forswear that you will serve the Inquisition to the best of your ability; it is a -holy- investigation, after all."

Ga'Elian pauses a moment to collect his thoughts, then says, "Well, I am not otherwise bound, save only with the ties of loyalty, but there are some principals that I will not sacrifice, mainly to my people, my faith, and the defense of the wild, but I imagine that your oath will not require me to forsake those things."

"Not at all," Fazahd says with a shake of his head. "We may take on roles of spying and scouting, investigation and the like, but...we can't fight evil by doing evil. And your mentor, Iadoth, joins us as well. Just keep in mind that as this is as secret an organization as we can muster, membership cannot be shared with the outside. You might not even learn all the members yourself at any given time."

Ga'Elian smirks at the description of Iadoth, but simply responds, "That will be fine."

"Very well, then." He takes off his glove, and offers you an arm as he gets to his feet. "Welcome to the Inquisition, my friend. May we save the land from ancient evil, and keep from screwing it up ourselves."

Ga'Elian stands, shakes forearms on the deal, and pats the Enginebreaker on his other shoulder, saying, "Amen to that. Well, then, I think I need to get a bit more accustomed to working below the surface of the earth. I rather suspect that I won't often be able to bring Erithamiel along; he is really built for the open skies more than winding caverns, but he is a good creature, valiant of heart, swift of wing, and ferocious of claw."

"Oh, I anticipate there will be outside field trips," Fazahd says with a snort. "I fully expect whatever's going on downstairs will leak out...we might have a great deal more of infernally tainted creatures and wildlife."

"Well, I'm sure he'll appreciate getting to join the fight. If we come across any tainted lands, Lady Iadoth and I might be able to enlist a few friends to perform the Rite of Estellen Calen and purify them. Anyway, sometime when you're not so occupied, maybe we'll share a drink. For now, though, I'll take my leave. I have some business to attend to in Dun Mordren."

Fazahd nods. "Another reason why I want to draw you in," he says - but at the mention of Dun Mordren, Fazahd's expression grows a bit warmer. "I...don't suppose you wouldn't mind delivering a letter for me, would you?"

Ga'Elian responds, "Not at all. Is it ready to hand, or do you need some time to get it together?"

"Right here," Fazahd says, producing a thin iron box, locked and sealed with wax. Because of course secure Khazad envelopes would be made of iron. "You would want to deliver it to a Azhmur Masterbuilder, Albhar Hall, Number 427."

Ga'Elian repeats, "Azhmur Masterbuilder, Albhar Hall 4-2-7. Got it. When I get back, I'll confirm delivery, likely in about three days." He accepts the thin parcel, then with a bow says, "Farewell, then."

Ga'Elian chuckles, "Well, as I said, I'm none too clever in the ways of politics. I'll be glad to repeat to you what I observe on the matter, if anything, but perhaps you'd find it more valuable if I asked Azhmur to write about it to you privately?"

"You're a hunter," Fazahd said with a chuckle. "You listen. And...yes, please. That would be good as well." A smile - a real smile, which is odd on a young man who has always been so serious. Not a lot of practice. "Thank you, Ga'Elian. Truly."