The Order of the Ruby Heart was in an uproar. Someone had dared make an assassination attempt on one of its squires, and been thwarted by the fact everyone concerned had stumbled right into the middle of an Inquisition operation.
There was nothing for it but volunteering by the brave knights to get back at the dastardly folk who had conspired against them, and as they’d properly bolloxed up the Inquisition’s sting operation, well, a few extra bodies were never unwelcome in the Inquisition’s untiring efforts.
It had been some time since the Ruby Hearts had had a proper amount of fun, and they did get a mite carried away digging out heretics, blasphemers, traitors, and insane idiots messing with stuff waaaaay beyond their sanity grade. Doors were kicked in, homes and businesses were wrecked, and fanatics were cut down in number. Buildings exploded, secret tunnels were plumbed, traps went off, ceremonies were interrupted, bases of operations were purged, and dread creatures never meant to see the light of day went rampaging about to the horror of all watching. There were sudden meteorological phenomena, unclean things brought into the world (and somewhat more slowly sent back out... or invited to stay permanently), a lot of desperate people and creatures running willy-nilly this way and that, and quiet hands in the shadows following them to exactly where such desperate people might go...
All in all, it was terribly exciting. The ministers and scribes were cheerfully describing all the events over tea and kaffe, chortling to themselves about the foolishness of certain individuals:
“Did you hear about Jenks over in textile tariffs? Turns out he was worshipping some sort of intelligent slug!”
“I always did think he was a bit too radical. But that was nothing like the eighth precinct sewage control! They raided it just this morning!”
“Egads! What were they doing, worshipping some sentient pile of poo?”
“No, no, they were taken over by some kind of shapechanging slime creatures!”
“Seriously? Who would think of such a thing?”
“Well, you, for starters, sir.” Eyes rose just as a burning Blade came down, and split the questioner in two at the hip. The not-blood that leaked out quickly began to burn white.
The quiet young man in leathers with silver eyes who had somehow walked up to them without being noticed gave the watching scribes a hard smile as he cut in the opposite direction, and the quarters of the reverting slime-thing that had replaced Vice Chief Tallyman Prento pulsed and writhed and began to dissolve.
“Eukayrot demons, servants of the Demon Lord of Ooze, Guixilin. Sirs,” the swordsman informed them, turning away and striding out of the tea house.
“My word!” exclaimed the fake Prento’s tea companion, bending over to look at the burning, shivering ooze, with all its many unwholesome hues. “No wonder you had such horrible taste in tea...”
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Grand Maester Knight-Baron of the Ruby Heart Daemo Lawvin looked up as the doors to his office opened smoothly. There was no warning from his secretary or his guards, which was enough to bring him to his feet as the party of men in white and black walked in.
The man in the center had a cowl with no eyeslits, covering his whole face, but the Scales of the Inquisition showed right through the silk covering. To his right was a man clad in polished silver armor who the Grand Maester knew well: Grand Maester Jon Krys, head of the Order of the Silver Sun, the pre-eminent Order of Paladins in the Empire, and considered the greatest master of the Thunder alive today.
At his left hand was the too-young, silver-eyed Heavenbound Warlock who he had admitted to the Order, holding in his hand a severed head wearing a signature lion helm.
The head inside that helm did not belong to a man.
“What is the meaning of this?” the Grand Maester asked softly, leaning forwards on his desk. “And you, is this how you repay your fellow knights?” he asked, glaring at Errant, ignoring the head in his hand.
“I would apologize, but I am not a knight,” Errant replied calmly. “To be a Knight, one must be knighted by a senior knight in good standing. I am afraid a fair portion of the Order are not actually Knights.”
The flat expression on the Grand Maester’s face was the very picture of offense. “You are questioning my qualifications?” he barked, and his power began to rise, the air humming with the power of Thunder.
“Ah, yes, displaying the Thunder only a true heart can show,” the Inquisitor murmured in a faceless voice. “Please, perform for us the Call to Benediction.” The man in black with the white gloves indicated the silvered Paladin at his side. “Sir Krys noted that he taught you the Call personally.”
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“Evil Stands Before Us, Show Us Your Grace!”
The stentorian call was one hundred percent cheese wrapped up in a fine bow of Thundering belief.
Silver light descended from on high as the Paladin stepped forward, seeming to swell in size and... no, no, he actually did grow a foot taller, his Armor grander, rippling with power, eyes burning with silver light as his Challenge was answered.
“Let me see you Call for a Benediction,” the Paladin said, his voice ringing like steel. “Not upon a stroke of your steel, upon your heart and soul!”
The Grand Maester tensed, his hand moving to the hilt of the Sword at his side. “Such a basic Challenge?” he scoffed... and the desk exploded out of his way as he charged the Inquisitor. “What Punishment Darkness!” he shouted.
Something fell from the Inquisitor’s sleeve into his hand, and he raised it smoothly. It was golden, not white, and upon it was a stylized sixteen-point sun, with a crown within.
A Holy Symbol of Aru, and it flared with The Light. Not of Harse, but the Sun of Suns Himself.
Golden Light burst out, and filled the room. The Grand Maester was in mid-stroke, less than five feet away, but was caught in the middle of the Light, like trying to work his way through adamantine gossamer. The Light pierced him through... and grabbed.
He screamed as his face seemed to peel back and away, gently teased free of his flesh by strands of infinitely heavy yet delicate Light. As the soul was softly eased free of its prison of flesh, the meat behind warped and shifted to a featureless grey hue. The image of the noble knight seemed to stir from a horrible dream, spectral eyes opened as he pulled free of the creature that had taken his place, ripping away its proportions and false image as it did.
“Behold Their Wrath!”
The silver Sword came down, blending in with the golden aura, and split the inhuman figure of the doppelganger from crown to crotch in a flare of gold and silver wrath. Burning Divine flames didn’t even give the thing a chance to scream before they ate it away, and as it fell and hit the ground, it broke apart into burning dust.
The Holy Sword of the Grand Maester of the Ruby Heart, Shining Faith, fell softly to the floor, while the metal jewelry and tokens the dop had worn clattered to the thick carpet. The amber-like ring that had adorned his little finger burned and shattered, and the band turned black and corroded.
Sir Krys eyed the spectral form of the Grand Maester, who regarded him somberly, the golden lines of his soul being pulled gently towards the sunlight streaming in through the grand window behind him. Student and teacher looked at one another, and then the soul of Daemo Lawvin the Sunsworn bowed to the Paladin, as Aru’s Light wrapped about him and took him away to his rest.
“Your intuition serves you well, Master Errant,” the Paladin murmured sadly, staring after his student, friend, and peer. “I can only wish that you had been wrong.”
“That would have been for the best, wouldn’t it, sir?” Errant replied, looking after the departed spirit, and then dropping his eyes down to what had not burned among the remains. “The Order of the Ruby Heart is in for a bad time. There are going to be a lot of machinations around the election of a new Grand Maester...”
“No, the most critical thing is that those who were anointed by this duplicitous thing be given the chance to regain their status under proper eyes,” Sir Krys stated calmly. “I will speak with the Luminarchs and take command of the Ruby Heart until a new Grand Maester can be chosen from the Elder Maesters. The Crown will have little to say about it. Our first order of business will be a Grand Ceremony to re-anoint those whose titles are now in question.”
The Paladins of Mithar served all the Gods of Good in turn. Having one agree to serve in the Order of the Ruby Heart was an honor, not an intrusion. Being an old hand at Imperial politics, and not wishing the Church of Aru to be dragged into the morass of them, the great knight immediately declared a term of action that would result in the cleanest transfer of power.
“The things that this creature has done while serving as the Grand Maester will all have to be reviewed. Deadly things will be concealed in the most innocuous of orders,” the Inquisitor, who had stowed away the golden symbol once more, said in his soft, unsettling voice.
Sir Krys agreed, as did Errant. “There will be those given knighthood with ulterior motives, working ill in the name of the Ruby Heart. We will have to suspend their titles until their service can be reviewed... and it will not be at all odd for some guilty parties to mysteriously vanish...”
These were events he had seen in other forms take place in other Orders and organizations over his long career, but never in an Order as strong and righteous as the Ruby Heart. Infiltration, corruption, exposure, cleansing, purging. Only, this cycle of events was deeper and penetrating into places it had never gone to before...
“Master Errant, what of the young Paladin you spoke of, the attack on whom started off this whole chain of events?” Sir Krys asked firmly.
“He’s long gone from the city, Your Grace. A Senior knight of the Order whose virtue was beyond reproach is taking him to the North. Given that his identity was revealed, it was best to get him out of the city before more assassins arrived to deal with him. The Ruby Heart has only a minor presence there, so he should not be readily exposed,” Errant replied promptly.
The senior Paladin eyed the young Heavenbound with a mixture of rare respect and interest. The young man had literally been all over the city for the past few weeks, serving in high places and low, in some of the deadliest fighting the effete nobles of the city would never hear about as more than stories in passing.
This young man was terrifyingly competent, and completely willing to use that competence in the service of Heaven. The Angels had picked an extraordinary champion on this plane.
“It would be my pleasure to re-ordain you, young Master,” the noble Paladin promised.
Errant’s smile was broad and unfeigned. “I daresay my family will have breakdowns if they ever find out, Your Grace. I will be most pleased to attend whatever Ceremony you put on.” His silver eyes shifted away. “I wouldn’t be surprised if someone desperate also considers that a great time to take action, with so many knights in attendance...”
Sir Krys looked at the Inquisitor, and saw the scales rise on his cowl in interest. “Well, then, we shall have to arrange some surprises for them, young Master...”