starcana

The Vilithic Eclipse - Part 3

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Photograph courtesy of NASA.

With a smile on his face, Karrass recited the litany of the Eclipse.

“Dim the lights,
Hush your voice,
Hide your heart.
The Eclipse is here,
The Gods are
Looking at you.”

Eben’s eyes grew wide, reflecting more light than Karass would have thought possible.

“Now you see Eben, the Eclipse happens once a year. Each year in a different star system. As it has happened each year since the beginning of recorded Church history. Every year the Gods remind us of their attention by bathing a system in their darkness. They remind us not to revel in killing, destruction, or lies. Lest we earn their attention and one day we spend eternity in torment for our vile actions. I am a priest, I dedicate my life to teaching my flock how to avoid gaining the Gods' attention. The Professor is an astronomer. She studies the cosmos and how the planets move in relation to the stars. The star system of Fexin is scheduled to have the Eclipse this year. Everyone in the galaxy is planning to stay home, be quiet, and pray that the darkness brought by the Eclipse does not bring the Gods attention to their lives. People stay at home, refrain from talking, and even fast. Fasting is a practice where people refrain from eating, to reflect upon how excess is a vice that the Gods disapprove of.” Eben’s jaw opened in surprise at the thought of people refraining from eating. “But, this year things are different. Can you tell me why things are different? I think you understand more than you’ve let on.”

“Without a planet, there can’t be an eclipse of any kind. You and the professor have both explained that. These gods of yours can’t create their darkness without their Eclipse. Without darkness, there is light. This is why I need to get to Fexin. You understand? The professor says she does, but I don’t think that she understands what I mean. We have a ship, she chartered one for us, with passage booked for three. Because I knew you’d be coming with us.” Eben’s voice, while still the voice of a child, was as serious as any theological debater that Karrass had ever spoken with. There was no arguing with this boy, it was clear to Karrass that this boy would end up in Fexin no matter what happened. He had the resolve of the most ardent Paladin he’d ever met. Nevertheless, Karrass knew he must resist him.

“No, we can’t do that. The gate that leads to Fexin is controlled by the Nagulli navy. Their blockade of the gate is to protect civilian ships from entering the hazardous Fexin system. It’s not safe there, if hundreds of ships are trying to get through there is even less chance of any ships getting through. My cousin Kurl is in command of a battleship there. The navy plans to honor the legion and take their mission even more seriously; a fleet of civilian ships would be destroyed if they even tried to run the blockade. The glory for defeating an invading fleet would alone be a reason to open fire. It’s not possible, it would be suicide. Unauthorized ships have been destroyed for less at the blockade.” Mortigana rested her talons on the stacks of books on the desk, leaning forward to bring her long gray snout closer to the priest's face. Eben leaned in next to her, his smiling felinoid face in stark contrast to her glower.

“One ship could father. One ship could make it past the blockade. One ship, if it had the proper credentials to get past the blockade. In six weeks, there is to be a predicted solar event in the system, one that the Vilithic Church itself has heavily invested scripture in. One ship, to witness the event, with a priest on board known for studying the destruction of Fexin, with a noted astronomer along to study and document the event for the galaxy.” Mortigana surprised herself at her resolve, she’d not spoken with this much passion since she defended her doctoral thesis. Karrass returned her lean in kind, closing the gap between their faces.

“I’ll be excommunicated, cast out, disgraced before the Nagulli Great Arbitrator. My writings burned as those of a heretic. My name struck from the Nagulli competition. If I was lucky, I’d be killed by the navy as we failed to break the blockade.” Eben’s tail swished back and forth, knocking a stack of papers to the book-covered floor.

“But you’ll show your flock hope and the light without darkness. What better way to teach them to avoid the attention of the gods than to show them the light of hope?” Eben’s voice sent a ripple of electric current through the room. Karrass felt the hair on his arms stand on end for a moment. Mortigana felt her cold blood warm from its passing.

“A ship you say?” Karrass laughed as he ruffled the fur on the boy's head. “I don’t have a regular congregation these days. It’s been years since I’ve hosted ceremonies of any kind. Flock isn’t limited to those that attend ceremonies, it’s those that come to the church seeking guidance, assistance, or help. You, my young friend, are now of my flock. Who am I to leave you in the darkness? Professor, you mentioned a ship. I think it’s time that you and I worked on those credentials together.”

Father Karrass locked his office door behind him, followed Mortigana and Eben up the stairs. The three of them making plans to stop for a quick bite of lunch on the way to the starport, idle chit-chat. The sort of thing that fleshies do. PS43 began to sort through data feeds, the Cathedral network, the Hypernews Network, and after a dozen or so robust feeds it found the one it wanted, piggybacked a signal, and hid it inside another feed.

“University Agent reporting update. Priest has joined professor and urchin. Travel to Fexin is inevitable. Be advised, fleshies inbound. Next update in 24 galactic standard hours.”

THE END.
Happy Holidays and new year.

The Vilithic Eclipse - Part 2

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“You’re not here as a joke at all, are you? You believe every word you just said. Pranksters don't take the time to research A Treatise on Starcanists as Related to the Destruction of Fexin deeply enough to find it's been censured by the Church Hierarchy. Would you mind shutting the door behind you?” Karasse paused for a moment, reached under the front edge of his tiny cluttered desk, and pushed a hidden button with a clicking sound. A soft light pulsed from his desk with a momentary buzzing sound. “There, now we can speak away from prying ears. If you please produce your university credentials. While I do not believe you’re trolling me, I’d like to ensure that you’re a legitimate professor, at the least.”

“Yes, of course, my credentials. Eben, be a dear and close the door for us, thank you.” Eben raised an eyebrow and the door moved by itself closing without being touched. Reaching into her satchel Motigana produced an etched metal disc with a holographic projection lens. Tracing a portion of the etching with her talon, a holographic version of her face appeared. Symbols of the University orbiting the facsimile of her face, with a scrolling numeric code, and Associate Professor of Astronomy, Ph.D. “There, you know who I am and that it’s official. May we please discuss the destruction of Fexin and the potential disaster approaching during the annual Vilithic Eclipse?

Artwork by Martin Koernmesser

She continued before he could respond, “As you said, we have six weeks, which may not be enough time to plot out all the contingencies. The system is already in chaos with the moon of Fexin spiraling into their sun, projections show six weeks before it is destroyed. The date of that cannot be a coincidence, yet my colleagues refuse to listen to me on that matter. Of course, this could very well begin a new gravitational shift in the region. We’re still studying the effects of the detonation of the Singularity Bomb, we don’t have enough data to understand the full extent of the damage that the loss of a planetary body has done to the system. Dozens of survey ships have been lost over the years trying to collect salvage or attempting to map the debris field. Chunks of cities are spiraling out of control in the sector, as what remains of the planet Fexin breaks up. The University doesn’t have an accurate accounting of the sheer volume of military hardware floating unclaimed in the region. Two military fleets were decimated in the explosion as well. The singularity and the destruction of Fexin was an unprecedented event, and now the galaxy is facing a crisis of faith that could be the start of something far worse than the destruction of a major inhabited world.”

“Contingencies? Gravitational shifts? Concerns? Oh, I have concerns, namely the remaining Allef Paladins that are gathering other Paladins to stand vigil in orbit of the remains of Fexin. Rumor has it that several Allef colony ships are planning a pilgrimage of sorts as well. There are also theories of a New Golden Age for the Church beginning from the ruins of the destruction. Rumors are flying around the Bishops, which of course they deny, that the Gods themselves are expected to manifest during the Eclipse. Plus, I’ve been told that yet another group is traveling there as well, as they expect Fexin to become a new “Proving Ground,” of sorts, for the righteous and powerful to claim for themselves. Just what we need: soldier of fortune types sticking their snouts into an uncharted debris field loaded with damaged military hardware. By the way, Princeps R’Venno of the Nagul is well aware of what hardware has been removed by Admiral Thrak’s fleet from that system over a decade ago. On top of all of that, a professor from SOU brings her babysitting assignment into my office to discuss matters of cosmic theology under the pretense of astronomical research!” Father Karrass’s voice lowered in pitch and volume, as his pronounced lower jaw tusks made his words even more coarse. Mortigana showed very little reaction, as she waited for him to finish. Eben hearing himself mentioned in such harsh tones narrowed his fuzzy brow, causing the lighting in the room to momentarily dim before glowing brightly, then returning to normal lighting levels.

“She’s not my babysitter, no one but me takes care of me. She didn’t bring me here, I brought her here.” Eben’s voice was youthful but carried the weight of too many years of rough living, and of being on the run.

Karrasse looked about the room as the light levels changed, calmed himself a bit before he continued, “I’ve been censured by the Church for even discussing these matters, and as you can see, demoted down to this steam junction room as an excuse for an office. I’ve been warned not to discuss these matters anymore, as apparently I’m sowing discord and worrying the flock. To make matters worse, that boy is clearly a Starcanist, and you’ve brought him to my office. You brought a Starcanist in my office on church property without notifying me in advance?” Disdain bordering on revulsion filled his voice.

“So Father, what you’re saying is that you’re just as ignorant about the future of the Fexin system as the entire SOU astronomy department is? That you have no information beyond what you’ve been able to glean from local sources, rumor, conjecture, and outright paranoia? Because that puts us on nearly equal footing, aside from Eben here. In the thousands of years of recorded astronomical data and events, there has never been a destroyed planetary body at the center of The Eclipse. We have a mathematical model that shows the proximity of the solar gravitational pull ripping the remains apart, based on the current trajectory of the moon heading into the local solar body.” Eben shifted a stack of papers from the desk onto a stack of books and hopped up to sit on the desk.

“There are also reports being passed along to a colleague of mine from the Interstellar Jumpgate Administration. If requests for ship travel continue at the current trend, they expect a backlog of travel through the gates leading to that system. Another event almost unprecedented in documented centuries of Gate travel. Are your superiors pressuring you to leave out that ships full of hope are heading to Fexin, rather than those seeking fortune and fame? Without the planet of Fexin, there can not be an Eclipse. Without a planetary body to block out the sun and create Their darkness, there can only be light. The hopefuls of the galaxy are heading to Fexin to celebrate Their absence. To create a celebration of hope and promise.” Mortigana firmly thumped her knuckles against the same old book that Father Karrass had earlier. Father Karrass averted his eyes from hers, Mortigana knew that she’d found the piece of the puzzle that he was leaving out. That the Church itself feared this coming change in the cosmos.

“We have Eben here, who you have correctly surmised is a Starcanist. He tells me that he is being called to the Fexin system. The closer he gets to the system the more at peace he feels. He sought me out at the university without even knowing who I was. I’d like to point out that he also is fairly ignorant of the traditions of the Eclipse. Nonetheless, he knew your name and he knows you can help him. Currently, the call leads him through this office. Even if Eben does not understand the call, he’s going to follow it. I believe we need to help him, for the sake of the galaxy.”

“I see that you’ve done your research, I expected nothing less when I saw your credentials. I had hoped you were the academic type that simply cataloged data, not the kind that put facts together to piece out the mysteries. After all, that’s what this is, isn’t it? A mystery. A galactic wide mystery centered on how the Gods interact with our lives.” Pausing for a moment, Karass sat back down in his chair and turned to Eben, his gruff voice taking an almost tender tone. “You’re a bright young man. A survivor, I bet. Let me guess, you were born on a colony ship, orphaned shortly afterwards, and had to fend for yourself. But you’re special, aren’t you? You’ve got abilities that other kids don’t have. You can sense things, move things, and I bet when you’re angry you can even light things on fire.” 

As an answer, blue sparks moved between Eben’s fingertips. “No fire, yet, but I can make electronics short out easily enough. If I concentrate really hard, I can make a circuit panel explode sending sparks clear across the compartment. But what I’m really good at is knowing where I need to be and when I need to be there. The Professor here helped me figure that out, after I showed up in her office. She’s also teaching me how to read better and stuff. I’ve always been able to read cargo reports, signs on the ship, and stuff. But her datapad is too much for me. Too many words, big ones too. She brought me to you, so you can tell me about this Eclipse thing. Maybe even tell me about these Gods you mentioned. We didn’t talk about those on the colony ship.” Eben shifted back and forth on his hips, his eyes wandering around the tiny room. Mortigana smiled at Eben, a gesture of approval to the boy. Father Karrass saw the approval of the boy from her face, and found himself noticing simply how charismatic the boy was.

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The Vilithic Eclipse - Part 1

in ,

Artwork by Pablo Scapinachis.

“Father Karrase, it’s good to finally meet you. Your reputation as an astronomer has earned you notice at Sauris and Ornithis University. Thank you for meeting with me and Eben today.” Professor Mortigana extended her manicured, taloned hand to greet him. As a three-foot-tall orange furred Aleph boy, wearing threadbare oversized clothes peeked out from around behind her.

The priest didn’t pause his reading or even look up from a worn, thick, leather-bound book, the pages yellowed with time. “I only take confessions during the hours posted on my schedule. Check there, my child, and I shall meet with you during the official hours. Good day.” The aged Nagulli priest stayed seated at his excessively cluttered desk, his day-to-day vestments showing more wear and tear than one would expect of his station and position. 

His response took her by surprise, she had scheduled an appointment with him. Did he not realize what time it was? Or was he simply rude? His office was more like a small closet, books stacked on the floor nearly reached the ceiling. Some stacks encroached on the legs of his chair, making Mortigana wonder how he was able to get up without disturbing the archaic volumes. Astrological charts haphazardly stuck to the walls at all angles, appearing to be moments away from falling to the floor. The smell of stale coffee filled the tiny space. Mortigana began to wonder if the condition of the office, the lack of open floor space beyond what she and Eben stood in, and a clear lack of an assistant, indicated his position in the church. Either way, Mortigana felt wearing high heels to this meeting had been a poor fashion choice this morning. The amount of walking she’d done to find a disheveled Nagulli priest in dire need of a haircut, in a makeshift basement office, with pipes running across the walls and ceiling, was not what she expected. Mortigana’s nostrils flared, as a high-pitched electronic beep sounded behind her.

A small, spherical hover-bot floated into view from behind the Professor, “Father Karrase, I did check your posted hours. I made this appointment two weeks ago. I have made no error in protocol. The programming of a Personal Scheduler Artificial Intelligence Bot, or PS, is 100% accurate for scheduling, or my owner is liable for a refund .” The electronic voice of the Artie is overly loud and shrill in the small office, a stylistic feature many owners chose to modify when they purchased the scheduling aid. Mortigana preferred the default voice to make others uncomfortable with it. Its momentary purpose completed, PS43 hovered back behind Mortigana, unobtrusive and out of sight again.
“I apologize if I’m late, but PS43 is correct. It did make an appointment for me, also the map of the Cathedral didn’t show your office here on sub-basement two, it indicated the third floor, in the back. It took some time, and quite a bit of asking around before we were directed here to your office. Which, I might add, PS43 discovered was listed on the map as “Steam Pipe Junction #27.” Now, since I have an appointment, may we discuss the upcoming Eclipse in what remains of the Fexin system?”

Her taloned hand still extended, awaiting a handshake. Karrase paused in his reading, raised his head to see who was addressing him. She was tall for a Nidinos, a dark gray complexion, dressed professionally, yet not expensively. Her tail curved around her taloned toes, with polish to match her foreclaws. Running his hand through his receding hairline, he placed a bookmark on the page and closed the book. Its title wasn’t a language that Mortigana could read, but the markings of the Church clearly indicated that it was some sort of scripture. Karrase, exhaled a sigh, stood up, upsetting a small stack of books near his seat, and took her hand, completing the gesture of respect.

“Who sent you? Who put you up to this? Was it Bishop Ruhbane? Or was it that oaf, Franis-Bruce, in security? The two of them do enjoy their little jokes.” Releasing her grip, Karasse produced a cloth from his worn vestments, removed his anachronistic reading glasses, and began to polish them. “There are more than six weeks until the Eclipse. I didn’t expect another trolling from them so soon. It was only last week when those reporters from the Hyper-link News Network ambushed me outside of my favorite breakfast place up the street from here.”

“Yes, the interview, that’s how you came to our attention. My previous requests to discuss the Eclipse were rebuffed by the Church, but I must speak with someone about it. I knew you were the man to talk to about such things. I’ve looked into your published research on the movement of planetary bodies, and how it relates to the Vilithic Church. I found mention of a piece you’d written about the destruction of Fexin, and how it may affect the upcoming cycle of the Galactic Eclipse. However, the paper was discredited in every place you published it. Very little evidence of it even exists. I have theories, and I need to discuss them with you. May I have a seat?” Mortigana pretended to gaze about the tiny office, shifted her feet, and locked eyes with the Priest. “Not that there is room in here for a second chair for me to use.” Eben giggled a little bit too loud, as children sometimes do when adults say mean things to other adults.

Karasse blinked away a moment of surprise and returned his glasses to the bridge of his nose. He rapped his knuckles on the volume he’d been reading. Karasse took a moment to compose himself, his demeanor betraying neither shock nor relief, Mortigana could not discern which.

“You’re not here as a joke at all, are you?”

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A Paladin's Labors - Part 3

in

By Timothy Walsh

Click here to start at the beginning

Phaedrin tucked and rolled out the back of the truck, nimble despite her heavy armor. While fast, she wasn’t subtle, and the sound of her impact and roll rang out as she quickly surveyed the area. She found herself on a broken road through scraggly, rocky woodland. Small arms fire spattered on the ground around her as she quick-stepped away from the back of the truck and scanned the treeline for hostiles. She noticed some of them -- a handful of mostly Humans and Naguli -- had taken covered positions behind rocks and fallen trees. None seemed to have any weapons larger than a rifle, which suited her fine.

She stopped moving and planted her feet. Pulling the hilt of her starblade from the back of her belt, Phaedrin ignited the weapon. The dark red blade extended with a burst and hiss, throwing new shadows around in the thin sunlight, and Phaedrin openly grinned at the sudden silence as the weapons fire stopped. Taking a deep breath, she schooled her expression into a serious one as shouted across the small battlefield.

“Bandits! Raiders! I am Phaedrin, Paladin of the Vilithic Church! You have one chance to lay down your arms and submit to local justice, lest the wrath of the Gods and Their might fall upon your heads!”

The weapons of the bandits remained silent, even as Phaedrin’s local companions threw themselves from the back of the truck and scattered behind what cover they could. As he moved behind her, Phaedrin heard Ricard saying, “Oh now it’s time to be dire,” and she struggled to keep a straight face.

The silence broke with a single voice shouting from the trees, “You all know what we have on our side! Take them!”

The weapons fire began all at once, and Phaedrin no longer had to fight to remain serious. She remained planted, narrowed her eyes, and reached out with her empty hand. Shouting aloud in an old form of Urunar, she felt a presence in the back of her mind as a dark and depthless anger flowed from it, through her, and into the world. A lance of black fire leapt from her hand, howling almost as if in pain, towards a group of three Naguli with rifles -- only to spatter against a nearly invisible heat shimmer in the air before it could reach them.

Her eyes widened, but before she could say anything Phaedrin was forced to throw herself into a desperate roll as greenish black vines, thorns glistening with something she didn’t want to contemplate, burst out of the ground where she had been standing, flailing hungrily for something to latch on to.

The raiders gave a hopeful cheer, and the weapon fire intensified on both sides. Lasers spattered off Phaedrin’s armor even as she moved her starblade to deflect what she could. The bandits were focusing on her, leaving her squad of locals free to return fire, but she knew that she couldn’t keep this up for too long. Her attention was pulled as if by chance towards an older human man standing off to the side of the bandits. Phaedrin felt his gaze focusing on her, and knew that whatever had just tried to happen to her, he was responsible.

“What are you?” she yelled, and called upon her Gods. Power infused her body as she sprinted from the road into the thin woods, directly towards the man. Her sight narrowed until he was all that she saw. He was older, greying, his skin weathered and clothing hard worn. He didn’t appear to be carrying weapons, but even as she saw his eyes widen in fear, he kept chanting words that Phaedrin could not hear. She grew closer, but her focus left her no ability to dodge the shards of wood which pulled themselves from a nearby tree and flew into her, trailing a faint green mist. Most of them shattered on her armor, but she felt one slam into her thigh, and the burning in her muscle was from more than just a simple wound.

It didn’t help the man, as Phaedrin reached him and slammed into him at her full supernatural speed. While he spun from the impact, Phaedrin planted her feet and skidded to a sudden halt. Spinning to face the human, her wounded leg buckled beneath her and she began to topple. Mid-fall, she swept her starblade down in a burning arc, fully severing one of the man’s legs at the knee. He barely managed to cry out as he fainted from the pain.

The sounds of the battle continued around her, but Phaedrin only had eyes for the fallen human in front of her. “Everyone else here might get dealt with by the locals, but you? You’re coming back to Kel with me.”

THE END… for now.

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A Paladin's Labors - Part 2

in

By Timothy Walsh

Click here for Part 1

The back of the hovertruck was filled with an awkward and silent tension. Phaedrin looked around as she munched on a breakfast sandwich that she’d managed to abscond with. There were six lightly armed humans sitting among the packed cargo crates, all of them studiously avoiding looking at her.

“So,” she said brightly, shattering the silence, “how long of a trip is it up to the mines, anyway?”

The humans looked around at each other with uncertain expressions, before one looked at Phaedrin and answered. “P-probably about two hours, Paladin.”

“Thanks. And just call me Phaedrin. It’s my name.” She continued to maul the breakfast sandwich. It was honestly really good. Probably one of the top ten breakfast sandwiches she had recently, she thought. The local spices were amazing, and whatever native animal went into the sausage was tangy as all get out. She idly wondered if she’d be able to buy some before she left.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” The human who had answered her before was speaking again. “Can… can I ask you a question?” The man looked nervous, but had clearly worked himself up to the point of being able to speak directly to her. 

Phaedrin nodded, pointing at her full mouth with an apologetic expression. The man blinked at her and continued, “You, um. You don’t really seem like how I -- we -- expected a paladin to act. You’re. Um,” he paused as Phaedrin quickly swallowed the last of her food.

“Nice? Pleasant? Friendly?” she said.

The man blanched, but nodded. 

Phaedrin chuckled, not unkindly, and asked, “Hey, what’s your name, anyway? I’m sorry, but I didn’t ask before we all got into this hovertruck which, by the way, sure feels like it needs better shock absorbers even if that’s not at all how hovertrucks work.”

The human laughed and stuck out his hand. As Phaedrin’s paw engulfed it for a handshake he replied, “Ricard, and yeah, I don’t know what’s up with the antigravs on this thing but they really do give an old-school wheeled conveyance experience, don’t they?” The two shared a laugh, and he continued more easily. “But yeah, seriously. The last few times we had a paladin come through, it wasn’t like any of them were bad people or anything, but they were all just all cut from the same cloth. Stoic and stern, one of them was even dour. All business, all the time. You are definitely not that. What gives?”

Phaedrin sat back on her bench and huffed out a breath. “Well, the easy answer is that all devotees of the Vilithic Church are different people, and people act differently.” Ricard had an openly dubious look on his face, and she chuckled as she continued. “That’s true, but it’s also pat and it’s also not really what you’re asking. How much do you know about basic Church doctrine?”

Ricard matched Phaedrin’s posture, leaning back on his bench seat. “I have the basics, but that’s about all. We don’t have a real priest out here, just a lay preacher, but we get most of the usual sermons, I suppose.” Phaedrin gestured at him to continue. “We know that the Vilithic Gods… well, they aren’t good. Getting noticed by them isn’t a good idea, and doing stuff that they like will get you noticed -- lying, theft, murder and all that -- so best not to act like them. Anointed priests and paladins of the Church can draw on them though, and perform miracles. You all get their attention, so the rest of us won’t.”

Phaedrin nodded. “That’s pretty much it, yes. So, well, to be blunt? Think about it. Think about what it must be like to tie yourself to powers like that. It’s really not an easy thing. It can be a heavy load to carry, and that’s usually reflected in how people act. Also, paladins especially end up in a lot of harsh and difficult situations. If you’ve ever met some career combat veterans, it can be the same thing, I guess. Hells, if you think that some line paladins were too serious, hope you never meet a real crusader. They take that lack of humor to a whole new level.”

Ricard had been thinking through her words, though he shivered at the mention of crusaders. “You’re not anything like that, though!”

The paladin laughed. “Well, you haven’t really seen me in a situation that calls for me to be serious,” she said. “But outside of that, no, I’m not. I’ve got no reason to be, I suppose. This life is my only life, and I intend to enjoy it. I’m doing hard work, and necessary work, and it isn’t what you’d call fun, but in the end I’m helping people. I keep them safe in this life, and I help them pass unclaimed by the Gods in the next.” She kept smiling, but her tone sobered. “Really though, I know the types of things that await me after I die. I’m not trying to make myself seem more important than I am, or to play for sympathy, but I know the sacrifice I’m making for people. There’s going to be a whole lot of not-fun waiting for me after I leave here, so why not enjoy myself while I can?”

“That’s… a lot to take in. More than I expected to hear when I woke up this morning.” Ricard looked up at Phaedrin. “I can get there. It makes sense. Though I’m happy that it isn’t something that I need to consider for my own life, and I appreciate that.” 

The Urunar shrugged her shoulders. “It’s what I do. It’s what we do. Everyone deals with it in their own way. When you get down to it…” Her next words were drowned out by the sound of a short explosion from outside the truck, followed by shouted orders to stop the vehicle and get out of it.

Phaedrin looked at the humans in the truck with her. “That sounds like our cue. I’ll go out first, you all follow after I’ve gotten some attention. Grab cover, keep your heads down.” Her mouth fell into a toothy grin. “Time to show some people what the attention of the Gods can look like.”

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A Paladin's Labors - Part 1

in

By Timothy Walsh

Editor’s Note: The events of this story occur three years before the events in the Starcana adventure, Everything New is Old.

Phaedrin ran her paw over her head, scratching behind an ear. The Urunar Paladin looked down at the human standing before her with an uncertain look on his face, a stocky middle-aged man in sturdy laborer’s clothes. He was one of the councilmembers of this small colony, and had apparently been chosen to come to her about some problem. She didn’t mind listening to him, but was honestly thinking harder about the meal that she was late for. Phaedrin didn’t like being late for meals. She shook herself out of her reverie and tried to pay better attention.

“So, well, Phae… I’m sorry, Paladin Phaedrin. We know that you only come out to this world here on your rounds and all, and we all understand that normally you’d be heading off on your business, but we’ve been starting to have bandit trouble. They’ve been harassing folk on the roads to the mines, and we’re worried it’ll only get worse. There aren’t many of them, but they seem pretty well armed and well, we’re not. Also...” the man began to shift, refusing to meet Phaedrin’s eyes, “Also, there’s word that they have some kind of strange power among them, and we don’t know what to make of it. Sounds like what the priests can do, but that can’t be, can it?”

At this Phaedrin stopped, dreams of lunch falling away. “Councilmember, please. You don’t need to be nervous.” Her tone was cheerful, in contrast to the blackened Vilithic plate armor that encased her body. “You’re just passing on reports, you’re not badmouthing the Church or her followers. It’s okay. I’d be happy to help.” She reached out, and clapped the human on his shoulder. Solid as he was, he still rocked slightly at the gesture. “That’s why I’m here, after all! Besides, a power? Miracles but not? That’s pretty serious, so I’d want to look into it one way or the other, for sure.”

People never really knew how to respond to her, Phaedrin thought as the human went through a familiar set of confused expressions. It wasn’t like every Paladin needed to be all “behold the strong arm of the Vilithic Church, I will stand here with my starblade and declaim grim tidings unto you all.” She didn’t need to be serious all the time, after all.

“Look,” she began, before the councilmember could give voice to his confusion, “the next shipment of food and supplies to the mining camps leaves tomorrow morning. I’ll just go along for the ride, and give your guards some backup. If it’s just bandits that are causing these problems, they’ll be taken care of. If it’s something else...” She grinned, and the human’s eyes went wide at the sight of Phaedrin’s teeth. “I’m sure I’ll be able to take care of that, too,” she finished.

The councilmember drew himself up, and met Phaedrin’s eyes. “Thank you for that. We’d all feel it if the shipments from the mines were disrupted, but the folks working in them would feel it worse if their supplies didn’t make it up there.”

Phaedrin nodded back. “Of course. It’s what I’m supposed to do. Now,” she looked around, sniffing, “where can I get a solid meal and some drinks around here? I overheard someone saying something about open mic night at the bar, and that’s something I’d like to know more about too.”

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