Corruption has always been the plague that prosperous nations fail to eradicate throughout millennia of history. When there is prosperity, there will always be those who seek to enrich their own coffers at the detriment of others." - Barkus Finlay, "The Hows and Whys of a Nation's Rise and Fall."
Cal massaged her forehead for a moment as she collated the information this discovery had brought to light. First, the "Champion of the Gods" seems to be just a normal bard who was taken unaware and definitely an unwilling participant in the cultist's charade. Yet the fact that she had heard news about how the Deity of Wind had elected a champion in the mortal world well before she even reached Ezram - nearly a year ago in the city-states to be exact, and there had been noted occasions in history where the gods announced to their clergy that they had elected a champion - meant there might be some credibility to his tale, and would also explain why he had not been harmed at all by the cultists so far.
Second, the fact that he was incarcerated right inside the main temple complex of the clergy that worshipped Aistrofuri could only mean one thing. Someone very high up in the clergy's hierarchy were in cahoots with, if not outright part of the cultists. That complicated matters some, since if her memory did not fail her the archbishop of the main temple was one of the five Archmagus in the kingdom, an Ice-affinity if she remembered right. Not an opponent she had any reason to fear in a fight, but his status makes things somewhat more troublesome.
To simply escape with the bard in tow and have him give a very public statement from safety would throw a wrench in their plans, but that plan had a minor issue. Namely that to get him out would require her to make a larger exit, as he was a good bit broader than her at the shoulders and the gap she came in through was an extremely tight fit as it was. There were no way to do that without a commotion that would attract the clergy - and the likely many cultists amongst them.
"Uh, milady? While I greatly appreciate the company, you might want to make yourself scarce." Said Ergan warily. "If I did not miscount, tonight is a new moon, and they always fetched me to their meeting around midnight or so."
"They? Did you happen to have a good look at those that came to fetch you?"
"There were always three of them present. One was Archbishop Faris. I think the second was Dean Septem of the Noble's Academy, he is known to be a Lightning Archmage, and he's the one that kept me paralyzed all the time." He answered. "I don't know the third one, some old crone wearing the same robes as the lunatics."
"And they come together you say? That would make it quite… convenient." Replied Cal with a smirk. She discarded the plan to just quietly leave with Ergan in tow, and decided to blow up the situation to proportions impossible to ignore instead. Best of all, if things go well Xain won't even need to clean up after her, as the Ezram Kingdom would have to thank her instead.
"Stay here, ideally under your bed to be safe, and don't come out no matter the ruckus you hear later till I'm back, got it?" She told Ergan, who nodded with some surprise but quickly followed her instructions and hid underneath the solid wooden frame of the bed.
For her own part, Cal got out from the same gap she entered from, then climbed to the roof of the building, and laid low above the entrance, as she waited for her quarry to arrive.
When she saw three individuals who chatted quietly as they approached, she quickly identified them as the trio Ergan mentioned. The bald man in luxurious green clergy robes likely the Archbishop, while next to him the older, bearded man who dressed like a stereotypical wizard, probably the Dean. It amazed her that the old crone actually wore her cultist robes just underneath a cloak instead of changing to it at a different place, however, which probably meant more of the temple were compromised than she thought.
A half dozen acolytes trailed behind them, as well as one middle-aged woman she recognized: the Deputy Foreign Affairs Minister she met earlier in the day. Whether Fargo himself was involved in this mess, she was uncertain, but when his reactions this morning were considered, she thought it not likely the case. Would explain how someone found out fast enough to send an assassin the very night she reached Barzum though.
Cal did not bother much with words, and chose to strike first whilst the enemy remained unawares. As soon as they were close enough, her arm flickered and threw several throwing darts at high speed.
The crone apparently somehow caught sight of a glimpse of movement, and reacted in time as she erected a barrier of stone to cover herself and her two compatriots. The speed and ease of her actions marked her as another archmage at the least. Cal's throwing daggers bounced off the stone barrier, although one was merely deflected at a slight angle and struck Fargo's deputy right in the throat by coincidence.
As she jumped off the rooftop and slammed her halberd right at the archbishop, Cal found a sturdy barrier of ice that blocked her full-force swing. The ice barrier broke into a thousand pieces, but it halted the momentum of her attack, and bought time for the archbishop to slide away on a path of ice. Despite the failure, she still felt somewhat gratified to hear the curses of "Sub-human!" uttered by the crone and a couple of the acolytes, since they confirmed that she got the right people.
"Who dares assail Archbishop Faris of the Grand Temple of Austrofuri! Fear you not the wrath of the gods!?" Yelled the old Dean, now that he recovered from his surprise.
"Archbishop of the Theodinaz Cult you surely mean, hmm?" Cal answered playfully even as she threw another handful of darts, this time blocked by both the Archbishop and the Crone together.
"Vile sub-human bastard! Our cause is given to us by the gods themselves! To stand against us is to blaspheme!" Said the archbishop with rage as he threw several lances of ice that Cal just deflected away with ease.
"Speak no more, Faris." Said the crone. "Just finish off this interloper before she causes too large a commotion. We don't want to attract the city guard here."
Septem and Faris followed that advice from the Crone and proceeded to do their damndest to kill Cal. Or at least they tried to. Septem proved to be one of the oft-mocked "armchair archmages" who was more theory than practice, and Cal just straight up ignored his lightning bolts even as they left scorch marks on her. Faris's use of ice was far more practiced, but he was too slow to actually hit her properly. The crone had focused on defense so far, but Cal guessed that she might be in the midst of preparation for a larger spell.
That proved irrelevant soon after as Cal found her first opening, and took an ice lance to the stomach on purpose to in turn strike at Septem. At a glance her strike seemed to fall short, but as Septem collapsed to his knees and desperately tried to keep his intestines inside his abdominal cavity, everyone realized that she had just enough reach to disembowel him with the edge of her weapon's spearhead.
She did not have the time to close in and finish him off however, as the crone finished her spell and a gigantic fist of stone emerged from the ground and slammed into Cal's side all of a sudden. The impact was strong enough to send her flying into a nearby building where she dented its brick wall, and she could feel that at least a couple ribs were cracked by that strike.
That just made a wider grin spread on her lips.
The Crone had by now placed herself in a basket-like structure set behind the back of the four-meter tall stone golem she conjured, her head positioned just so she could look over the golem's head, while the Archbishop kept trying to bombard Cal with lances of ice. By now the acolytes nearby had all died, some by Cal's hands, others from stray strikes from their own compatriots.
Cal herself had her flesh scorched in over a dozen places, a large wound through the stomach courtesy of the ice lance she took a hit from, a couple broken bones, and many bruises from the spalling, yet she grinned wildly as she charged right back at the Archbishop and the Crone.
Corruption has always been the plague that prosperous nations fail to eradicate throughout millennia of history. When there is prosperity, there will always be those who seek to enrich their own coffers at the detriment of others." - Barkus Finlay, "The Hows and Whys of a Nation's Rise and Fall."
Cal massaged her forehead for a moment as she collated the information this discovery had brought to light. First, the "Champion of the Gods" seems to be just a normal bard who was taken unaware and definitely an unwilling participant in the cultist's charade. Yet the fact that she had heard news about how the Deity of Wind had elected a champion in the mortal world well before she even reached Ezram - nearly a year ago in the city-states to be exact, and there had been noted occasions in history where the gods announced to their clergy that they had elected a champion - meant there might be some credibility to his tale, and would also explain why he had not been harmed at all by the cultists so far.
Second, the fact that he was incarcerated right inside the main temple complex of the clergy that worshipped Aistrofuri could only mean one thing. Someone very high up in the clergy's hierarchy were in cahoots with, if not outright part of the cultists. That complicated matters some, since if her memory did not fail her the archbishop of the main temple was one of the five Archmagus in the kingdom, an Ice-affinity if she remembered right. Not an opponent she had any reason to fear in a fight, but his status makes things somewhat more troublesome.
To simply escape with the bard in tow and have him give a very public statement from safety would throw a wrench in their plans, but that plan had a minor issue. Namely that to get him out would require her to make a larger exit, as he was a good bit broader than her at the shoulders and the gap she came in through was an extremely tight fit as it was. There were no way to do that without a commotion that would attract the clergy - and the likely many cultists amongst them.
"Uh, milady? While I greatly appreciate the company, you might want to make yourself scarce." Said Ergan warily. "If I did not miscount, tonight is a new moon, and they always fetched me to their meeting around midnight or so."
"They? Did you happen to have a good look at those that came to fetch you?"
"There were always three of them present. One was Archbishop Faris. I think the second was Dean Septem of the Noble's Academy, he is known to be a Lightning Archmage, and he's the one that kept me paralyzed all the time." He answered. "I don't know the third one, some old crone wearing the same robes as the lunatics."
"And they come together you say? That would make it quite… convenient." Replied Cal with a smirk. She discarded the plan to just quietly leave with Ergan in tow, and decided to blow up the situation to proportions impossible to ignore instead. Best of all, if things go well Xain won't even need to clean up after her, as the Ezram Kingdom would have to thank her instead.
"Stay here, ideally under your bed to be safe, and don't come out no matter the ruckus you hear later till I'm back, got it?" She told Ergan, who nodded with some surprise but quickly followed her instructions and hid underneath the solid wooden frame of the bed.
For her own part, Cal got out from the same gap she entered from, then climbed to the roof of the building, and laid low above the entrance, as she waited for her quarry to arrive.
When she saw three individuals who chatted quietly as they approached, she quickly identified them as the trio Ergan mentioned. The bald man in luxurious green clergy robes likely the Archbishop, while next to him the older, bearded man who dressed like a stereotypical wizard, probably the Dean. It amazed her that the old crone actually wore her cultist robes just underneath a cloak instead of changing to it at a different place, however, which probably meant more of the temple were compromised than she thought.
A half dozen acolytes trailed behind them, as well as one middle-aged woman she recognized: the Deputy Foreign Affairs Minister she met earlier in the day. Whether Fargo himself was involved in this mess, she was uncertain, but when his reactions this morning were considered, she thought it not likely the case. Would explain how someone found out fast enough to send an assassin the very night she reached Barzum though.
Cal did not bother much with words, and chose to strike first whilst the enemy remained unawares. As soon as they were close enough, her arm flickered and threw several throwing darts at high speed.
The crone apparently somehow caught sight of a glimpse of movement, and reacted in time as she erected a barrier of stone to cover herself and her two compatriots. The speed and ease of her actions marked her as another archmage at the least. Cal's throwing daggers bounced off the stone barrier, although one was merely deflected at a slight angle and struck Fargo's deputy right in the throat by coincidence.
As she jumped off the rooftop and slammed her halberd right at the archbishop, Cal found a sturdy barrier of ice that blocked her full-force swing. The ice barrier broke into a thousand pieces, but it halted the momentum of her attack, and bought time for the archbishop to slide away on a path of ice. Despite the failure, she still felt somewhat gratified to hear the curses of "Sub-human!" uttered by the crone and a couple of the acolytes, since they confirmed that she got the right people.
"Who dares assail Archbishop Faris of the Grand Temple of Austrofuri! Fear you not the wrath of the gods!?" Yelled the old Dean, now that he recovered from his surprise.
"Archbishop of the Theodinaz Cult you surely mean, hmm?" Cal answered playfully even as she threw another handful of darts, this time blocked by both the Archbishop and the Crone together.
"Vile sub-human bastard! Our cause is given to us by the gods themselves! To stand against us is to blaspheme!" Said the archbishop with rage as he threw several lances of ice that Cal just deflected away with ease.
"Speak no more, Faris." Said the crone. "Just finish off this interloper before she causes too large a commotion. We don't want to attract the city guard here."
Septem and Faris followed that advice from the Crone and proceeded to do their damndest to kill Cal. Or at least they tried to. Septem proved to be one of the oft-mocked "armchair archmages" who was more theory than practice, and Cal just straight up ignored his lightning bolts even as they left scorch marks on her. Faris's use of ice was far more practiced, but he was too slow to actually hit her properly. The crone had focused on defense so far, but Cal guessed that she might be in the midst of preparation for a larger spell.
That proved irrelevant soon after as Cal found her first opening, and took an ice lance to the stomach on purpose to in turn strike at Septem. At a glance her strike seemed to fall short, but as Septem collapsed to his knees and desperately tried to keep his intestines inside his abdominal cavity, everyone realized that she had just enough reach to disembowel him with the edge of her weapon's spearhead.
She did not have the time to close in and finish him off however, as the crone finished her spell and a gigantic fist of stone emerged from the ground and slammed into Cal's side all of a sudden. The impact was strong enough to send her flying into a nearby building where she dented its brick wall, and she could feel that at least a couple ribs were cracked by that strike.
That just made a wider grin spread on her lips.
The Crone had by now placed herself in a basket-like structure set behind the back of the four-meter tall stone golem she conjured, her head positioned just so she could look over the golem's head, while the Archbishop kept trying to bombard Cal with lances of ice. By now the acolytes nearby had all died, some by Cal's hands, others from stray strikes from their own compatriots.
Cal herself had her flesh scorched in over a dozen places, a large wound through the stomach courtesy of the ice lance she took a hit from, a couple broken bones, and many bruises from the spalling, yet she grinned wildly as she charged right back at the Archbishop and the Crone.
