The Priest and the Soldier

“Oh, uh, hello. My name is Melissa, I’m an acolyte of the temple. How may the Moon Maiden aid you today?”
Varis frowns slightly, then shakes his head as though dismissing a strange thought.
“I am looking for High Diviner Rholor. Is he here?”
Melissa studies the charming half-elven man in front of her for a second and suddenly becomes aware of her presentation. She straightens herself up and subtly tries to make her clothing fall more graciously around her while simultaneously hiding the fact that she woke up not long ago and still needed a few more minutes before she was ready for any kind of face-to-face interaction.
"Ah... yes... master Rholor of course... what else could it be. Uhhhh, it's early he might be slee-"
Her words are cut off by a door opening further inside the living quarters as a familiar man emerges from one of the doors wearing a simple tunic.
"Sleeping? Nigh impossible to do so with such a ruckus out here this early in the morning" Rholor says with mild annoyance.
"Ah Varis, it has been a while, what brings you here? Come, come, let's go to the study" he says as he starts walking towards the door, Melissa still groggily trying to understand what is going on. Nodding politely to Melissa as he passes her, Varis follows Rholor into the comfortable office, taking the offered seat and waiting for the priest to join him. When his host is seated opposite him, he meets the other man’s gaze steadily.
“Thank you for taking the time to speak with me, Rholor. Several things bring me here today. The first and perhaps least troublesome concerns the orphanage I have built. I understand there are those within Daring whose cynicism leads them to believe I am building some kind of private army, however my intention is quite the opposite. I want the children of Thia’s Refuge to have futures, free of war and horror. I have spoken to some of the business leaders of our community, in hopes of arranging apprenticeships and mentoring once the children are ready. I would appreciate it if you, as a man of faith, would consider taking one or two as acolytes. Not only is the church a respectable profession, but it is my hope that your example would both encourage others and assuage some of the concerns about my intentions.”
The cleric nods.
"But of course, I would gladly do so. As you know, I'm quite busy these days and could not oversee the personal growth of these acolytes myself - as the other Acolytes, they would need to be under the guidance of Melissa whom you've just met. If that is something you are comfortable with, I am more than happy to put a system in place. What else do you need?"
Varis pauses for a moment, choosing his words carefully.
“Some months ago, I ventured into the World Below with Paw and some others. There we fought and slew an Erinyes – Heilesna the Firebrand. Two weeks back, Paw and some others, including Taffeta Thistletop, confronted a group of Tabaxi who had murdered and robbed a visiting merchant. Taffeta slew their leader. It was no Tabaxi. Sunday is sure it was a Rakshasa – indeed, one bred and sold by her family in Phlegethos. Firstly, I felt it worth mentioning this to you – you are one of us, but also a member of the Council. You can bring this information to your peers and give it the weight it deserves. One incursion from the lower planes is troubling enough. Two is cause for serious alarm. Secondly, on a more personal note, both Taffeta and I are now the sworn enemies of fiends of Baator. If you know anything of the lower planes, you know what such enmity means for us, and for those around us. The threat will not be ended until we venture into the Nine Hells and slay these creatures in their own Plane. Your assistance would be appreciated. Not only in the task itself, but in locating these beings.”
The young man gives a grim smile.
“I do not relish the idea of trawling Baator trying to find one fiend in all that seething mass of evil. Any help you or the Moon Maiden might be able to provide in narrowing our search would be much appreciated.”
"Ah Varis, Varis.... things are not that easy. I can bring this to the attention of the Council but what will they say when I explain that two of our own adventurers incurred the wrath of two Devilish entities from the Nine Hells and are now afraid they will strike Daring Heights? The people already have little trust in some of us - this news spreading will make it worse. But don't worry, I'll find a way to make up some story together with Aurelia about unusual devil activity in the area. We'll get the alarm levels up without telling the full story. I think you are right, a little trip to the Hells is required - deal with these two for good, eh? I am not sure if I can help you - I trust you can find capable people to deal with this without requiring my aid. The people of Daring must have their Representative of Faith present as much of the time as possible, I can't go off gallivanting through wretched red wastelands hunting Rakshasas and Erinyes. I will help in any way I can from here though. Locating creatures in other planes of existence is very tricky - I don't think I can help you in that regard but perhaps I can find you answers. What would you like me to ask the Moonmaiden?"
Varis sits back in his chair, eyes closed and silent for a log moment. At one point his head twitches slightly as though throwing off the restraining hand of a friend. When he opens his eyes again his face is calm, though his eyes smoulder. His voice is slow and precise as answers the priest.
“I see your lofty position affords you a perspective – dare I say a judgement – denied us lowly, galivanting adventurers. I should very much like to hear, on another occasion, how you might have dealt with fiends establishing themselves mere miles from the city, or in Taffeta’s case, with Port Ffirst itself. It would have been an entirely different story, I’m sure, had the Representative of the Faith been present. A clean, uncomplicated affair – certainly his own past interactions with the denizens of the lower planes speak to that. Tell me, how is the temple of Waukeen doing these days?”
The half elf has balled his right fist on his knee, and a faint tremor passes through it as his green eyes flash. Then he exhales, the hand relaxing, and Rholor can see a wet red glint between the knuckles.
“Nevertheless, you were not there, and now Taffeta and I must deal with the consequences of our decisions. If your goddess can help us locate these creatures, even narrow down which layer of Hell they are in, so much the better. If not, I will seek that information in other places.”
He stands, turning to go, and then stops.
“Whatever you think of me, Rholor, the safety of this place and it’s people is my utmost concern. If fiends are able to cross the boundaries between their plane and ours this easily, it does not bode well for Daring. You and your Council would do well to remember that.”
As Varis opens the door to leave the small study, Rholor spits a word in Celestial, waving his hand, and the door swings shut with a heavy thud. The younger man whirls to face the cleric, his demeanour going from frosty to positively arctic. Only the heat in his eyes gives any hint he hasn’t spontaneously frozen solid. Rholor fixes him with a stare of his own.
“Sit. Down. We are not done here.”
Crossing the distance between them rapidly, he reaches out a hand, muttering a few more words in Celestial as he touches the paladin’s arm. A faint mantle of starlight settles over the young half elf, filling him with a sense of etherealness and anonymity, as though he could run now and never be found should he wish it. With a sour look, Rholor edges past his guest to bang twice on the door.
“Melissa, get out of there. I can hear you breathing.”
There’s a brief pause, then the sound of scrabbling feet from the other side of the door, and Rholor turns back to face his visitor.
“Ok, so, now – to external eyes and ears – our conversation ended with you storming out of here. Now, we may speak freely. It is not your ‘gallivanting’ that bothers me, it is the ingratitude of these people that think ‘gallivanting adventurers’ are hurting this town. And don’t get me wrong, some of them are. Erratic, directionless, errant adventurers like…Sunday is…or was. I have not made my mind up yet but things do seem better.”
He sighs, walking slowly back into the room, reclaiming his seat and gesturing for Varis to do the same. The half elf gives a short shake of refusal, but some of the heat seems to have left his eyes. Rholor shrugs as if to say ‘suit yourself’, and continues.
“You and I are somewhat alike, but the people don’t see you for what you truly are – mainly because you don’t work hard enough to show them. If you just announce you’re off on a crusade to the Nine Hells, everyone will think ‘Ah, more warmongering from Varis.’ Is that what you want? Let’s be smart about it. We need a reason why you’d need to be mobilising forces and adventurers. Let me think for a moment.”
Varis has been silent throughout, the heat slowly leaving his eyes, and a little of it migrating to his cheeks. By the time Rholor finishes, he looks bitter and more than a little frustrated.
“I know people have a warped perception of what the Order’s purpose is, of my goals. I would change it if I could, but I have only so many hours in the day. I cannot protect this city if I must spend all my time shaking hands and kissing babies. I am no politician.”
He spits this last, then seems to remember who he is talking to, and grimaces apologetically.
“Sorry.”
Both men sit in silence for a while, thinking, then finally Varis speaks.
“Sigil.”
Rholor frowns.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Sigil. The City of Doors. You say there is no magic that can locate a being on another plane of existence, but if a thing can be known, there are people in Sigil who know it. I’ll reach out to a few friends and concerned parties, gather a group. Reconnaissance, nothing more. In the meantime, you speak to the Council, see what we can do about increasing vigilance.”
The priest smiles, nodding his head.
“Yes. I like it. The people will like it too. It looks like caution, like you’re just gathering information. I will try to join you. This is indeed important - I don’t want Devils looming over Daring Heights any more than you do - but understand, I cannot promise anything. Regardless, I’m sure you’re more than capable of dealing with whatever comes your way.”
He stands, waving a hand casually to open the door.
“Go on then. You can speak with anyone for the next seven hours or so without fear of magical eavesdroppers. Use it well.”
Varis stands and makes for the door, but Rholor calls to him before he is through it. There’s a spine of steel running through his words, though his face looks calm.
“Oh, and Varis? Mention the fucking Temple of Waukeen again and I’ll banish you to the Nine Hells myself.”
Varis looks at the other man for a long moment, then nods once and walks out of the temple.