Collecting Evidence & Deliberations

[mcian]

"The Inquisitor will not see you, sire. He is preparing the body of his dear friend and is in deep shock and mourning. Please wait until we have dealt with this situation, this deep loss. Surely you can have compassion on us for a few days?" The acolyte's voice was tender and pleading; hard to resist for a sensitive, considerate, heart. He stood behind the door as it was securely locked.

Itannar sighed. "I am on official business. I may only delay it for a while. How many days do you need?"

"That I cannot say. I will send word to you if it pleases you?"

"Very well, but take not long. My business with him cannot be overly delayed," he replied, stepping away from the barred door.

Sighing, he stepped away and began walking to Glengarry, the Warden barracks and his office. It would allow time for him to consider what had transpired.

First, he had sent word to Latifa, whom the Governor suggested he meet with, to examine the Inquisitor's scepter and, if possible, identify the poison. They met at the Emerald Fist Keep and discussed, with Alithea Moon present, the details of his mission.

The Inquisitor lied to me. I knew from the look on his face that he did not want me to dig too deep.

There was elvish blood on it. I am half-elven and I know what my dried blood looks like; it is not quite that of full humans.

Clearly he has beaten an elf with it; he himself is not elvish. I will entrap him. I am sure he will say the blood is his or something, but he has no excuse for there being elvish blood on it. James was correct; he did beat Silenus with it!

As for his murderer, I have one suspect... Lady Ravenna. She promised me she would not harm him, that is true, but she had motive. I will need to find and speak to her.

The Grand Inquisitor is evidently in charge now, but he must know his days are numbered. Likely he will disappear, at least for a while.

When he reached Glengarry, he felt better. The place always instilled a welcome measure of peace into his soul and eased his mind, though not nearly as much as Sanctuary, his true home, where his dearest friend, Malissin Ariesus, would always hear him out and provide useful counsel. He decided to go there instead. Not only was she there, but there was always a bottle of Mystique Le Rouge, well-chilled, awaiting tired travelers who needed a bit of relaxation from a weary day.

[mcian]

"Unlock and open this door now, or I shall have it battered down!" Itannar yelled after pounding upon the Abbey door for a few moments. "This is by the order of the Governor of Yew! Further resistance to this order will result in severe criminal indictments and imprisonment!" Behind him stood Jared, his second, and royal guards prepared to smash the doors down. Itannar stepped back to await results.

The doors creaked open and a monk wordlessly bade them enter. Once inside, Itannar took the monk aside as Jared and the others moved quickly inside, fanning out in all directions. "Where is the Grand Inquisitor? I have a warrant for his arrest," he stated firmly, revealing the aforementioned object for viewing.

"He is not here sire. He has not been here for several days. He left with the body of the Abbot. He intends to hold a funeral service for him as soon as possible."

Itannar glared at the man. "If you are lying to me, I shall arrest you also."

The monk bowed his head. "I lie not, sire. He is gone."

Itannar nodded. "Where has he gone?"

"He did not say, sire. It is likely he went to Cove, or else one of the various Militia outpost locations therein. I cannot be sure."

"Very well. Ensure these doors remain open. It does not matter if you have not yet chosen a new Abbot. The Abbey has seen many overseers come and go. Time between them has changed nothing. It will change nothing now. See to it."

The monk bowed again. "I shall tell the brothers, sire. For the record, sire, we concur with your assessment and judgment. The previous... oversight of the Abbey... may his soul rest in peace... was not as we all would have preferred. We feel much better and safer once both of them departed," he explained.

Itannar nodded. "Good! You are good men. Anyone can be blinded by those who wield Light as a weapon of hate for personal gain. He was not the first hypocrite, nor will he be the last... rest his soul as you say."

Jared returned. "He is not here, sir. The monks seem very happy he is gone, and they do not seem terribly anguished over the loss of the Abbot."

Itannar smiled. "Then we have something in common."

"What are your orders sir?"

"Post a round-the-clock guard. If the Inquisitor shows his face here again, arrest him on sight. Bring him thence to Glengarry. Understood Lieutenant?"

"Yes sir. Should I tell the monks our intention?"

Itannar thought for a moment. "Only the one I just spoke with. The others may be in alliance with him. He must not be warned of our intentions."

Jared saluted and proceeded to disseminate the orders.

[jamesbunnyman]

When Itannar came into the abbey, James was already inside. He was standing by the monk watching him curiously. No one paid the pooka any mind, and why would they? He was still invisible.

Still the grand inquisitor being gone was a disappointment, unless he's squirreled away here some where. Though Itannar's comment to Jared...The pooka's usual cheerful smile splits into a large goblin grin.

An arrest! Taking him to maybe a secret prison instead of the actual prison! Monks unhappy with the old administration, already talking behind their backs! This is even better than a secret meeting.

Ah the drama of Yew, how he loves it, all that's needed is some popcorn!

It would be a shame if this information got into the wrong hands. Normally this would be cause enough to get it into the wrong hands to spread chaos, but unfortunately that might actually be detrimental to his own plans to find out whom the secret enemy (or enemies) out there are. They might just kill the inquisitor to tie up a loose end...

It might be for what the pooka considers best to make sure the inquisitor ends up arrested, and not murdered. Ah well, he was planning to visit Cove soon, unfortunately considering the reason for his visit it's unlikely he'd see the inquisitor there, he wasn't exactly planning to visit the mortals. But it couldn't hurt to keep an eye out anyway.

A little sense of his intuition (or more accurate: paranoia) tells him to make a quick look around first just to make doubly sure the inquisitor is not hiding in secret nook behind a bookcase. So rather than head out he goes back into the abbey, for another little look around for due diligence...or at least to see if the humans say anything else entertaining before leaving for Cove.

Though he does make a little note to himself to -maybe- mention what he learned in the abbey to Itannar or Idril. Not now though if the former, preferably when there's fewer witnesses around. If he was able to get in and watch them, who knows who else is listening right now.

[raganhar]

Galle watched carefully from a distance as the Chief Warden threatened and bullied the young monk. His orders and invectives clearly audible on the quiet day. Galle had half a thought to advise Itannar of the secret tunnel the Grand Inquisitor would most likely be using at that very moment, but that would bring up too many questions. Questions he was honor bound not to answer.

The reopening of the Abbey made things slightly easier for Galle, but he dare not risk entering through the front. He could not know who, or more importantly, what was watching the entrance. Galle walked towards the corner of the Abbey quickened his pace, with a strange catch in his step and fumbled with his belt so the casual observer would be quick to turn away and watch no further. After turning the corner, rather than using the Abbey as a chamber pot, he quickly pressed select stones and disappeared into a barely noticeable doorway.

Although there were still gaps in his memory, years of practice and training were quickly returning to him. Very few abbeys or churches in the realm held any secrets that were not well known to his order. Once inside the tunnel, he reached out and grabbed a plain brown robe from a hook. Something inside him recoiled at the thought of once again donning vestments, no matter how humble, after all these years.

He didn’t need any light to navigate the tunnel and stairs to the rearmost corner of the restricted library. Even on an ordinary day, very few would notice his entry there. Today, however, the library was empty as all the brothers and scribes were off in contemplation of the Abbot’s death and even more serious contemplation of the political gains afforded in the election of a successor.

Putting aside such thoughts, Galle searched for one tome in particular. An ancient tome few libraries were allowed to hold and even fewer people were permitted to set eyes upon. He quickly found the appropriate shelf, but his heart caught in his chest and he let out a gasp upon seeing that the tome in question and several others on the same topic were missing. While few would have access to this section of the library, Galle knew well that only one would be permitted to remove such a dangerous volume. His frowned upon the realization that his visit to the Abbey would not be as quick as he intended…

Galle was careful not to walk too quickly and draw attention to himself as he passed other monks going to and from their business. The events of the prior evening made it appropriate for him to keep his head lowered in solemn mourning allowing the hood to obscure his features. His mind raced with thoughts on how he would get into the necessary room. He was resigned to breaking the lock and having only a short moment to search the room before having to take flight when fate smiled on him in the form of the wardens. In their haste to search the Abbey, one of Itannar’s thugs had left the door to the Abbot’s office ajar. Galle quickly ducked into the room, shutting the door behind him.

For the first time since entering the Abbey, Galle risked lighting a small candle. Its flame flickered as he looked about the room. The wardens had been thorough in their search. Empty shelves lined the walls while books were strewn about the floor, every drawer had been pulled from the ornate desk and their contents spilled haphazardly about.

Galle tried hard to remember. Not of a better time per se, but to an important time when he had sat at this very desk when summoned by the previous inhabitant of the office. He examined the floor, trying to remember. He had been sitting on the other side of the desk, and Abbot Sarducci’s movements had been so quick. He could not be certain which tile, nor certain he had ever really known which tile. Finally, Galle opened a skin of “sacramental” wine and poured it on the floor. He watched carefully as the wine disappeared into the cracks around one of the tiles. He knocked on the tile to reveal a hollow echo and quickly pried it from the floor.

The small space was filled with scrolls. He quickly opened and skimmed their contents. Each parchment contained a list of crimes, sins, and misdeeds ranging from theft to murder to children out of wedlock to sexual perversions and inclinations that would make a pirate queen blush. Each action was accompanied by the name of a member for the Abbey, a merchant, a noble, or one of several of the governors. It quickly became apparent how Costello had risen so quickly in the rank of his fellow monks.

Setting the scrolls aside, Galle reached his hand once more into the hidden space. He stopped, his fingers nearly touching the hidebound cover of an ancient tome, when the flicker of the candle revealed its title in a language long thought to be dead, but in reality banned from use by all but a few. Galle withdrew his hand and looked around the room. Removing the tongs from their place by the hearth, he bowed and recited the most ancient protective prayer he knew before reaching in and grabbing the book with the tool.

Galle examined the book carefully. A worn book braid stained by time held the place of the dead Abbot. Carefully opening it with the aid of the tongs and poker, Galle began to translate the text. It became easier as his training kicked in and he quickly understood the nuances of each reference and the importance of the verse.

“They don’t need the relic…”, he said to himself, “they have found another way….a “vessel””..  “How did I miss this?”, he wondered. His mind raced as he quickly read more to understand their plan and how to stop them. Reading as much as he could retain, he knew he could not leave the tome behind. It had not been secure in the library and other books, dangerous books were missing. He also knew he dare not remove the book from the Abbey. Things such as this had a way of disappearing in the world before turning up in dangerous ways.

Galle used the billows to fan the flames higher. He prayed longer and sought guidance before placing the book on the flames. He was not surprised when the flames engulfed it almost immediately and almost exploded out into the room. Galle fell to his knees and prayed every prayer of protection he had ever learned. Just as quickly as the book had caught, the flames died down and the ashes of the tome fell in the hearth.

Relieved, Galle turned to leave the room, when his eye caught on the scrolls he had uncovered. “Those are no one’s business”, he thought to himself before tossing them to the flames.

He exited the room as quickly as he entered and made his way out of the Abbey without being noticed.