Driving the Paladin To Drink

[wrecking_yard]

While we're waiting for Kima to get cleaned up and rested, I'm having my own bout of restlessness.  It's still early in the day, and with her restored from stone and in the keep, Orthax is hiding again.  Getting some peace without its influence on the surface is even more surreal after around a week in the Underdark with it hiding from a paladin and an Illithid to appreciate how much it's quietly been manipulating me in the background. 

I end up settling against the east facing wall of the keep proper; there's not a shrine or any special space there, but it's close enough and it feels less pointless than usual without the demon lurking noticeably making little derisive noises in the back of my head. 

It's been too long since I've been around sunlight, much less the morning sun, even if all I'm doing is going through a few hollow motions - I still might not have been written off entirely. 

It still turns into dozing off without much attempt at the old morning prayers, until Kima startles me awake.  "Percy?" 

She's cleaned up and looks better, still keeping the gold dwarven chain we'd found.  "There's something I needed to talk to you about, now that K'varn's been dealt with and we're back on the surface." 

Her expression and tone are grave, and I have a sinking feeling that I'm not going to like this conversation.  "What do you need?"

She takes a deep, steadying breath.  "I know you said the understanding was to leave certain things lie unless it was an active threat." 

She knows heraldry well enough that she probably recognized that the crest I'm wearing is a little bit more than just 'connected to Whitestone'.  "Yes, that is our normal rule."

"Well, between some things you said and reacted to, and other things I picked up on... I don't think I can avoid more questions in good conscience.  Not when you're wearing the crest of a family that was charged with a sacred site, one we've thought was entirely dead." 

Paladin oaths.  Fucking paladin oaths on a council member.

"What happened to the rest of your family?" 

"They're dead."  I lean back against the wall, not looking at her and half going back to dozing - or feigning it, at least.

I can feel her giving me a flat look even with my eyes closed, and she's muttering to herself for a second.  "How did that happen?  What did you survive to get here, and is it a threat to the realm?" 

"They were murdered."  If she's caught cues from my rattling nerves, that much shouldn't be hard to guess.  "I barely escaped, it probably is, and - is that really necessary?!"  I quit even trying to feign sleep to bristle and glare at her; fucking surprise truth spells. 

"You tell me."  She's definitely irritated.

I don't have a good answer besides a sharp glare, not when I just slipped up and betrayed that the truth wasn't what I'd meant to say. 

"Why are you hiding this?" 

At least now that I know the spell is there, I can be more mindful of it.  "Because for years people thought I was crazy and no-one would believe me.  Because I'm fucking terrified of them and still working on finding a way to go after them that isn't suicide.  Because I don't want to lose more by prodding this carelessly."  I gesture back at the keep, where everyone else is.  "Because I probably sent the last paladin who grilled me like this to his death or worse, and I don't want to repeat that."  I give her another sharp, pointed glare. 

"Of course a knight of Pelor would put it together...," she mutters, but she still hasn't released the spell.  "The one you mentioned in the Underdark?"  She's uneasy, concerned, but has turned somewhat sympathetic. 

"Yes." 

"And you don't think I can handle this."

"No."  Not after we had to save her from the duergar fortress and carry her stone ass back from the Underdark; at least she accepts that easily enough.

"What about your team?" 

No.  "I'm not sure." 

"Even after K'varn?"  A mad beholder with an artifact of evil of that magnitude is not a minor thing to bring down.

"...Yes.  Even after K'varn."  I shift uncomfortably; at least Klorota's fishing in the Underdark gave me a set of mental notes I can probably rattle down without barking anything the wrong way.  "Delilah's wolves were much better controlled and managed than K'varn's abominations.  They regenerated, parts could move when severed, they were much smarter than its creations, and I first saw those on the night of the massacre when I was a teenager."  K'varn had more raw power behind it, but Delilah has much more experience and knows what she's doing better...and I don't know what she's gained in the years since I got away.  "There's no chance they've sat idle, and they've had ample time to dig in and fortify their position - also, unlike K'varn, they know how to play off politics." 

Kima sits down heavily next to me, brows furrowed.  "Delilah .... Delilah Briarwood?"  She looks baffled, but she still has the spell up.

"The same.  Sylas is a vampire, for the record."  If I'm going to be stuck unable to dodge this, then I am going to rat on them for everything I'm worth.

After a thoughtful pause, she buries her face in her hands with a groan.  "Gods, that is a mess."

"M-hm."  I fold my arms, still half-glaring her direction.

She finally lets the truth spell go; there's a faint pins and needles that fades.  "Right.  Right now I need to focus on the horn.  We can't afford any delays getting rid of it." 

I nod; that's an easy agreement all around. 

"When it's dealt with, Bahamut willing, I'll touch bases with you - that's a problem that's going to need intel and a great deal of caution."  She pats my shoulder.  "Don't worry, lad - I'm not going to go dashing in blindly or throwing around accusations where they can muddy the waters if I've got any choice in the matter, and I've got a mission to finish first." 

"Thank you."  It definitely helps that she doesn't have a clue about the demon.