Ar'Kendrithyst

Dinner turned to drinking, which immediately became stories of the past, and of what had happened between then and now. Erick knew that everyone here who was not Teressa and Arathani were quickly headed into ‘third wheel’ territory. But, to Teressa and her auntie’s credit, they did not make him, or Poi, or Kiri, or Jane, feel unwelcome.

As the sky outside turned to night, Erick stepped up from the table during a lull between stories, and said, “Arathani, Yogdrick. Thank you for the wonderful—”

“You can’t go yet!” Arathani leapt up from her seat, saying, “I have cookies in the back! Dessert!”

Arathani did not wait for an answer, or recognition, as she tore off into the back room. She did that a lot. She had a nice, tough attitude, and Erick liked that about her. He smiled as Arathani came back with a giant basket filled with enough cookies to choke a small dragon, or at least several orcols. She set the basket on a separate dining room table, saying, “Berry and oat! I made a batch for the school for tomorrow, but you can take some. Take a dozen! I’ll get you a to-go plate.”

As others moved to get going, Teressa rose from her seat, too—

Erick said, “You can stay, Teressa. Spend the night if you wish?”

“Yes!” Arathani put a hand on Teressa’s shoulder, firmly planting the younger woman back onto her seat, saying, “We’ll have her back to you tomorrow safe as antirhine!”

“Auntie.” Teressa began protesting, “Sir. I do not have to stay—”

“You can, though.” Erick put on a false bossy facade, saying, “But I’ll expect you back tomorrow morning, soon as you’re able.”

“Please?” Arathani asked Teressa. “We got a nice room right upstairs for guests, and we’ve got a lot to talk about.” She teared up, saying, “You’ve been gone for so long and we had that awful fight—” She shook her head. “Please stay, Teressa.”

Teressa said, “Sure. Of course I’ll stay. Thanks for having me, Auntie.”

Erick said a few more goodbyes, then left, trailing three of his four people and carrying a plate of cookies.

Teressa and her Auntie would end up talking long into the night.

- - - -

Teressa walked in as Erick set out breakfast.

“Hey there!” Erick said, “Welcome back!”

Teressa smiled softly, and said, “Good to be back. She’s invited us all to dinner again. This time she promises it will be something special… And I promised her that I would tell you that, but we don’t have to go.”

Jane said, “I liked her food.”

“I liked it too, and we got time for this sort of thing. I haven’t heard back from O’kabil or that Chieftain about anything.” Erick said, “So we’ll go back to Arathani’s, unless you would rather go yourself, without us. That is perfectly fine, too. Family is important, after all.”

Teressa said, “Then let’s go back there for dinner.”

Erick nodded, saying, “Then we will! But other than that, you all do whatever you want to do. I’m going to actually, truly try to stay in today. Get some work done.” He added, “Record players won’t make themselves, after all!”

- - - -

Two hours later, Erick sat before Chieftain Wyrmrest and the man in charge of the Special Forces of Treehome. While the first was an orcol man of poise and strength, the second was an orcol man of blood-red plate armor and a no-nonsense face with quite a few scars. More scars than Erick had ever seen on an orcol, too. Of course, ‘more than he had ever seen’ also meant ‘one or two’, in the case of orcols, but this dude was scarred up like any human or incani Juggernaut you’d find in Spur’s Adventuring District at any time of the day.

Hollowsaur didn’t count for Erick’s idea of ‘orcols with scars’.

Peron introduced the scarred man, saying, “Archmage Erick Flatt, I would like you to meet Warchief Koropo Ikabobbi, leader of the Special Forces of Treehome, and the man who has been fighting the cultist menace for years.”

Erick said, “Nice to meet you, Koropo. Please call me Erick.”

Koropo paused in surprise, much like how a rock could be surprised, then spoke in a particularly deep voice, saying, “Informal, then. Erick. I heard you had some conditions for your support. What are they?”

“I won’t track down simple cultists. I will track down murderers, Hunters, and terrorists. Anyone who has taken a life in service to Melemizargo qualifies to be hunted, but I’d like you to be sparing with your targets, if you can.” Erick thought for a second, then, deciding that his words had been good enough, said, “That’s about it.” He gestured to Poi, standing behind him, adding, “And my guard and friend, Poi Fulisade, will be verifying the truth of your words, and any questions I have regarding any of the paperwork. Broadly speaking, I have no reason not to trust your word that the people you seek are dangerous killers, so please don’t give me a reason to not trust you.”

Peron said nothing and gave none of his emotions or biases away as he watched the conversation between Erick and Koropo.

Koropo said, “If I catch cultists in my net they will be tried and found guilty of consorting with The Enemy. The usual punishment for that is execution. If you want to take them off of my hands, then I’ll give them to you, but I will not go easy on the enablers of the Hunters, murderers, and terrorists.”

Erick blanked for a minute, then said, “No. I want you to let them be. Just don’t prosecute them.” He added, “This should not be a hard thing to compromise on.”

“If you don’t want them, then why should I have to deal with them? Don’t you have a city full of cultists?” Koropo said, “If they’re too dangerous for you, then we should just kill them and be done with it, and when we do catch them and we do kill them, I won’t have you gainsaying me in my decisions about my city.”

“Ah. So you don’t want my help at all.” Erick stood up, getting ready to leave, saying, “Sorry we couldn’t come to an arrangement.”

“I apologize for my dutiful Special Forces.” Peron stood, saying, “Please sit back down, Erick, and let us continue these discussions.”

Erick turned to Poi. “Is he actually apologizing, or is he playing ‘good cop bad cop’ with Koropo, just to see how far they can push me?” He turned back to the orcols, saying, “Because at the first sign that my wishes aren’t being upheld, then I am gone, and I will not be persuaded by Peron trying to placate me when you, Koropo, go ‘off all on your own’ and kill some stupid, idiot cultists who don’t know any better. If that is indeed what you’re both planning on doing.”

While Peron’s face remained the same mask as ever, Koropo’s scarred visage gained a hard-edged smile. Poi did not need to answer; Erick gained everything he needed to know right then. Peron was the actual bad cop, here, while Koropo was only pretending to be the bad cop at Peron’s behest, because, at the end of the day, Peron was the boss and Koropo was the underling.

Poi remained silent.

Koropo stood, and continued to play his part, saying, “I can respect you for murdering the Shades and turning the survivors into soul-slaved helpers, but this is how they get you, Erick. You’re doing what every single cult leader has ever done, just on a much larger scale.

“The leaders start the initiates off small, having them give gifts in the shadows to the Darkness. Then it’s compassion. Then comes a feeling of belonging. Then comes the request that the initiate prove their worth to the cult, and I’m not just speaking of Melemizargo’s Cult. This is how they all work. The people on top draw the people on the bottom into their webs of lies and comfort, and the people in bottom thus draw even more people in, and the cycle continues.

“All of the people in these cults are all part of the problem. Even if we cut the heads off of the wyrm, they always grow back, because that’s what tumors do when you only cut out the parts that are causing direct harm. For that’s what the Cult of Melemizargo does. It stays dormant for years. And then all of a sudden, there’s a crisis manufactured by the people in charge, usually when they find an initiate willing to kill to solve their problems. One problematic person becomes two, becomes five, and then you’ve got a string of murders on your hands, and too many murderers covering for each other.

“So your insistence that we ‘leave the simple Cultists alone’ is asking for us to leave the wyrm alone while it regrows its teeth.” Koropo said, “I will not do this, and if you won’t help clear out the entire cult, then I don’t need your shitty help, because as soon as we move on them with your kind of power, they’ll activate every single dormant member, instructing them all to kill as much as they can, to take out as many leaders and key people as they can before we can pin them to the wall.” Koropo said, “It’s happened before, and it will happen again.”

Silence descended upon the room.

No one spoke.

Erick glanced to Poi.

Poi said, “Warchief Ikabobbi believes what he is saying, and the event that he is referring to is the Insurrection of 1406, thirty years ago, when a string of massacres inside Treehome was found out to be the result of Cultists.”

Erick felt himself go a little pale, then mentally reminded himself that he didn’t always know everything, and that this wasn’t Earth. Erick’s experience with the Cult was not everyone’s experience with the Cult. He sat back down, saying, “Fine. Let’s talk.”

Koropo and Peron sat back down.

Erick said, “My initial statement stands, but there is an amendment: If they start doing what you say, then I will help you eliminate them all. If they do not activate their sleeper agents, if they do not start killing indiscriminately, then I want you to leave them alone. I will leave it up to you to proceed however you wish in order to enable a quick kill on whichever targets you desire, without alerting too many to what is going on, but, if possible, I ask you to detain and then release whoever you capture who is not directly responsible for some atrocity.”

Koropo said, “There will be collateral damage, no matter how much my people would wish to avoid such. I need to know that you’re in this till it’s over, no matter what happens, otherwise you’re a liability I won’t risk. I won’t risk stirring the dragon’s nest with a partner that is going to [Teleport] out at the first sign of trouble.”

“I’m taking a risk here, too, Koropo.” Erick said, “If you aren’t willing to take a risk that I’ll leave as soon as I see you harming innocents, then maybe you’re right. We shouldn’t be doing this at all.”

While Koropo slightly narrowed his eyes, in what had to be either a practiced or naturally perfect manner, Erick waited. He had given his line-in-the-sand, knowing that it would be tested, going forward. He hoped his morality wouldn’t be tested too harshly.

Another silence stretched through the meeting room.

Koropo said, “What do you need to find people?”

“… Are we going to do this, then? Will you abide by my rules? Both in spirit and to the letter?”

“Fine, dammit.” Koropo laid a gauntleted fist on the table right as Peron’s mask slipped, and the Chieftain’s anger briefly showed to the world. Koropo tapped the wood with a thick, armored finger, saying, “But listen to me when I say that stepping out halfway will be worse than doing nothing. Listen when I say that collateral damage is expected. We fully expect a large-scale retaliation, and we will be preparing some specific countermeasures to counteract that, but— Gods dammit, I’m usually the one telling my hothead subordinates not to get carried away.” He took away his hand, adding, “I haven’t been on this side of the table in forty years.” He stared Erick right in the eyes, saying, “I need you to go the distance with us. The Cult of Melemizargo must be eradicated from Treehome and the surrounding lands. Roots and all. I can’t have you getting scared halfway through. And I mean that.”

Erick softly asked, “What sort of large-scale retaliation?”

Koropo sat back in his chair, saying, “Archmage Syllea’s brother, Omaz, is one of the Cult leaders, so. Something on that level, and Syllea will likely get involved, too. Do you know Omaz? Anything about him?”

“No…” Keeping the sudden horror out of his voice, Erick said, “I met him once. But. No. I don’t know the man. At all.”

Koropo said, “He’s picked up some tricks from his sister over the many years. She’s got that famous [Starlight Fall] magic. He’s got it, too.” He whipped out a blue box and gave it to Erick. “According to Syllea, this one is Omaz’s version. It’s a pale imitation of the original, but it’s still an existential threat.”