“Despite their relatively close proximity to each other, it is surprising to many at just how different the cultural differences are between the people of Potomia and Gratia. One example being their cultural basis and traditions. Where Potomians trace their lineage (supposedly) to the human settlements of the late second age who were already in the region and claim to have derived many practices from their lands long and storied history. Gratians on the other hand, are a hybrid of cultures and values from the old Nautican Empire and the basinfolk of Tarantine and Ostian regions, though notably, before either the cities of Tarantine and Ostia had been founded. Meaning that their lineage too, contains a storied, albeit different past of their own.”

  - Professor Claude Malinowski, Arterian Academy Department of Anthropology, “Ethnographic Examination Into The Peoples Of The Trannoire Basin”

  The inquisitor squared off against the priest and his guards. Arnold’s party stood uncertainty to one side, their allegiance to Annalise’s cause only likely to inflame the already heated situation further. Elaria and Raylani subtlety skirted off to the side as well, Mila motioning for them to remain as backup in case tensions flared up. That left Sophie and Lucinia to stand beside the inquisitor. The princess maintaining a more haughty demeanor while Sophie struggled to focus and carry the additional travel packs at the same time.

  Around the arguing parties, a crowd had begun to form. Countless civilians potentially in a crossfire should something go awry. A dozen more citizen guards and what Mila had informed Sophie were Gratian chevaliers; knights that donned heavy plate armor, now watched them with hawkish gazes as well. For her part, Mila was trying to extricate them from this situation, but no matter what she said, the priest seemed to have yet another retort up his sleeve.

  “I already said, I have no intention of interfering in any of your business, or that of the city’s whatsoever.” Mila snarled, the inquisitor barely suppressing her queasiness as she wobbled ever so slightly.

  “And yet here you are, with an adventuring party. No doubt scheming your way back to power.” The priest chortled at his own words.

  “For your information, no. I am not here with a party that I’ve hired. Rather, I am part of the party.” She shot back.

  “Oh? The testy little fellow playing second fiddle? To whom?”

  Mila glanced at Sophie apologetically, then gestured towards her just as she had to poorly disguise her disquieted stomach’s complaints with an abrupt turn.

  Turning his attention to the unintentional challenger, he looked her up and down. Whatever conclusion he came to, he seemed almost disappointed. He took his time to make Sophie wait agonizingly long before even addressing, and even then, she kind of wish he didn’t bother.

  “You?” The priest practically scoffed.

  Dismayed at the hostile reception, Sophie nonetheless nodded, “Sophie Kastiane, leader of ‘The Lily Knights’. Mila is indeed a member of my party.”

  “Hah!” The priest let out an unexpected laugh, “Well met, Lady Kastiane. My name is Master Daimon, the bishop of this town. Tis rare to meet one who could tame the little savage.” His mood abruptly shifted.

  Sophie squirmed uncomfortably, she had no desire to provoke the priest’s ire any further. But she was unwilling to disparage her friend either.

  “She came to me willingly to help with matters and decided to lend an official hand as well.”

  “Imagine that!” He drawled, “Lady Lyudmila extending a helping hand, be sure to not let her cock things up or get you killed, hmm?”

  Mila turned on her heel, a rising fury in the girl’s eyes.

  “Unfortunately, making mistakes appears to be mostly my domain.” Sophie tried to defuse the tension.

  “I can imagine, strange choice of assistant after all.” He snickered before ignoring Mila’s hateful gaze, “And who might you be madam?” He politely bowed towards Lucinia.

  The princess shot Sophie an exasperated eye roll before swapping her demeanour completely. In a swift motion, she elegantly bowed her head and carried herself with an almost regal air once more.

  “Lucinia Trax, former princess of Traxia, now also an adventurer under Lady Kastiane’s guidance.” Lucinia introduced herself.

  Her words seemed to catch the priest off guard, the old man taking a moment to assess the situation once more. Around him, hushed whispers and surprised murmurings broke out into ever louder mumbles. Clearly, the mention of Traxia and a princess did not seem to sit well with the crowd.

  Before anyone could mount a response, a large figure began parting the crowd. Sophie immediately tensed up, her guard rising the closer it got.

  An orc dressed in the same plate armor of the templars took advantage of the sudden silence to casually brush people aside. Even the one guardsmen brave enough to try and impede his path was hastily shoved aside before he could even bark a command. Wielding a halberd and a shield the size of an adult human, the hulking brute strode directly in-between the priest’s guards, making the soldiers and templars reach for their weapons. Nothing was drawn, but the threat remained. The warrior did not even bat an eye at them, looking past the priest, past Sophie and towards Mila.

  Then, he clapsed a gauntleted fist over his chest, slamming it down with a metallic clank.

  “Warmaster.” The orc spoke.

  To Sophie’s surprise, Mila almost smiled.

  “Shieldbearer Marduk. A comrade of mine.” She introduced the orc.

  The two stared at each other a look of respect passing between them along with an odd solemness.

  The figure that emerged from behind the orc however, was met with far less enthusiasm from Mila.

  “Roche.” She growled.

  “Pleasure, I’m sure.” The lad coyly smiled with a feigned bow before turning on his heels to face the gathered crowd.

  He seemed amused and annoyed in equal measure, the slight curl of his lip suggesting that it still thankfully leaned towards the former. For his attire of a black leather coat and armor resembled that of the Inquisition’s. And Sophie had even less desire to cause any trouble to end up as their target.

  “Citizens of Mare’s Berth and visitors, the church will handle this affair now, so do get along with your days.” He instucted them calmly.

  There was just enough of an iciness in his that they complied, the two threatening templars that followed glaring at them meancingly also contributing somewhat.

  With the crowd reluctantly dispersing, the new inquisitor turned to face the remaining contenders.

  “Lady Lyudmila, a welcome surprise.” He sarcastically greeted.

  “I sent a letter.” Mila growled.

  “One that clearly wasn’t received thanks to interference along the coasts.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

  It did not take much to make the priest become the one to shift uncomfortably.

  “Thankfully I don’t think it’s important enough to report. Since you’re technically off-duty, but if it was, I presume Saint’s Rest would not be kind to those actively causing trouble for the Inquisition.”

  The threat was now laid bare, and there was no response.

  “Furthermore, since I like keep abreast of matters, Lady Kastiane.” He snappily called out.

  “That’s me.” Sophie replied on instinct.

  “For the esteemed hero of Arteria, champion of Melton, and adventurer defended by the Orator of the Stellar Observatory in the Chambers of Arteria. I, junior inquisitor Phillippe Roche, humbly welcome in my mistress’s name. Who is currently planning the strategic theatre of Gratia, and regretably unable to welcome you here in person.” Inquisitor Roche polietely curstied, the boy keeping one eye on the increasingly pale priest.

  “A pleasure.” Sophie curtsied in return, relieved, worried, and amused by the sudden shift.

  “This is honored Bishop Daimon, the spiritual heart of Mare’s Berth. A key part in the city’s future and most august.”

  “You are too kind.” The priest quickly recovered.

  “My mistress would like to convene a small council and would like your advice, honored one.”

  “Thank you for the gentle reminder. Blessed by the stars.” The priest seized his chance to disentangle himself.

  “Blessed by the stars.” Philippe replied.

  Every watched until the priest and his retinue had left, the rest of the crowd that remained around gently nudged by armed templars. A few chevaliers approached, the city guard curious about the happenings. One of the templars intercepted them, explaining the situation with the junior inquisitor’s approval.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  “Seems this time, you’re to be in my debt, Lyudmila.” Philippe smugly announced.

  “So it would seem.” Mila growled.

  He then turned to analyze the rest of the party, now including Arnold’s contingent, having noticed their concern during the inquisitor and priest’s brief spat.

  “Don’t worry, your intentions are already known to us. Lyudmila here was kind enough to write a briefing on what we should expect. Though under normal circumstances we would’ve… perhaps been a little less hospitable, we are well aware of the rather unique nature of your arrival.” He spoke to them.

  Arnold performed a gentle bow of acknowledgement, his ever present wry smile marking the return of his confidence.

  “We are ever grateful for the consideration. Don’t worry, we have no ill intentions or plans to cause any trouble here.” Arnold reassured him.

  “Naturally.” Philippe smiled. He then motioned for the group to draw closer.

  Mila refrained from doing so, the inquisitor’s wariness shared by Elaria and Raylani who continued to watch from the sidelines. Only Arnold and Sophie took a few steps towards the junior inquisitor. Lucinia’s presence a complete accident stemming from her defensive instinct from earlier in using Sophie as cover in case of trouble.

  “Now, my mistress only technically needs to meet with Lyudmila and you, Lady Kastiane. Though the rest of you are welcome to attend, I am also aware that you might not feel… as comfortable at such a gathering and thus hold no ill will should you choose not to attend.”

  Though his words were meant for Arnold, he spoke them just loud enough that those on the periphery could hear. Curiously, Sophie noticed how he tried to search Sara, Thulgrim and Gil for a proper reaction. Mila must not have told them in detail about those three and Arnold, huh. How curious.

  On this, Arnold deferred to Sophie, the rogue glancing over to seek her approval. She nodded. While they had no way of knowing much the inquisition already knew about his activities, she saw no reason to add any additional dangers on what could potentially be their only way of seeing Annalise.

  “In that case, then do pardon my... absence from this meeting.” Arnold tactfully intoned.

  “That is perfectly understandable.” Philippe shot him a hollow smile.

  But Arnold wasn’t the only one to signal his desire to avoid the inquisitorial meeting. Elaria and Raylani made their own movements to suggest their departure. No words needed to be traded between the sisters. The coy wave and gentle tilt of the head was more than enough for Sophie to smile and nod in response.

  “Then we’ll be departing too. Our skills are best utilized in a tavern anyways.” Elaria spoke up.

  “Hah!” Arnold boomed, “A perfect plan if I do so say myself.” He grinned.

  Sophie could see Elaria refrain from acting out of character, the thin smile on her lip the same one that the performer would always wear.

  “There’s a tavern by the city gates, the Masion les Vents, or house of winds. Should be well trafficked enough for the bard here and close enough to the gates that we’ll have everything prepped by the time you’re done.” Arnold spoke with a more serious tone.

  It was one indicative of a more senior adventurer. Orders coated with the veneer of suggestion. Polite, inoffensive, and gets the idea across.

  “We’ll head there once we’re done.” Sophie affirmed.

  “Aye.” Mila finally spoke after her long silence.

  Lucinia just shrugged, wondering why she kept being placed in a position where she was somewhat unsure of her actual role in the grander scheme of things.

  “We’ll wait for you there too then.” Elaria chimed in, “Don’t worry, we can take care of ourselves.”

  “That was never in doubt.” Sophie chuckled.

  Her gaze flickered back to the junior inquisitor, the man meeting her look with one that said to take her time. But they had tarried long enough. They were still in the port in full view of the dour freighters and warships that patrolled its waters. Catching her urging, he smirked and clasped his hands together.

  “Well then, best of luck to those of you not joining us. Blessed by the stars.” Philippe called to the others.

  “Blessed by the stars.” Arnold replied for the group.

  With half the party leaving. That meant Sophie, Mila, and Lucinia were on their own with the inquisition. Though Sophie still couldn’t help but warily glance at the giant orc that now seemed to dutifully remain by the inquisitor’s side. He called her a war master, didn’t he? I do recall her telling us about having tried to hunt down Annalise.

  A more worrisome thought quickly surfaced within her. If he was hunting Anna with Mila, would they still… She struck the doubt from her mind, there was nothing to be done now anyways. The only thing she could do was respond should something arise. She trusted Mila, and as Elaria had told her back on the Audentes, have faith.

  “Lady Kastiane, Lyudmila, mam. Shall we?” Philippe motioned for them to follow.

  Sophie turned to Mila, the inquisitor grunting in affirmation. To her surprise however, when MIla started walking, she paced herself ahead of Sophie’s ending up in a strangely synchronized lockstep with the junior inquisitor. The two marched on in silence for a ways, leading the group with two templars taking the far flanks and the armored orc trailing behind them in the rear. His presence making Sophie shiver uneasily, the scars of the mines and Sophia’s pain having done little to go away. Lucinia just quietly followed along, the princess taking advantage of the silence to examine the city streets.

  Once they were far away enough from the port, the junior inquisitor led them towards a side alley. Any doubt that Sophie might’ve had about Mila’s full experience in Gratia was soon quashed by how effortlessly she made the turn as well. She’s walked these streets before. But she’s been so tight lipped about everything that actually happened.”

  “Honestly, my apologies for Master Daimon’s behavior earlier. We knew that he helped oust you for fear of losing his status here and back at Saintsrest, the fool.” Philippe muttered beside them, the junior inquisitor being the first to break the silence, “Let me be clear, I find great amusement in this ultimately insignificant joust between the two of you. But he oversteps his bound actively interfering with Inquisitorial affairs.”

  “Hmm. Perhaps.” Mila grumbled, “Though with how brazen he was today, I wonder if there’s more than just his power play against me in the works.”

  “Most certainly. Though where his true allegiance lies remains yet uncertain.”

  “Is he simply a greedy man, a compromised figure, or someone who just delights in power and chaos, eh?”

  “That about sums it up. Although…”

  “Although?”

  Philippe abruptly turned to look at Sophie and Lucinia, startling the two.

  “Although you seem to have made quite the interesting array of friends. Or rather, I’m surprised you two are willing to be friends with my colleague here, hmm?”

  Caught off guard, the two quickly traded a glance in hopes of gleaning a plan from the other. Neither of them had a plan, nor could they muster up a proper answer.

  “Junior Inquisitor Philippe.” Mila growled threateningly.

  “Hey, an honest question. You’re not exactly the friendliest around, are you?”

  “Might I take this moment to remind you that I outrank you.”

  “Not when you’re on a leave of absence due to suspension of activities.” He snickered.

  Before she could round up on him some more, he stopped in his tracks and looked firmly at the odd duo of elf and traxian. They were now in front of a large manor like building, but on the backside of it where an alley facing doorway greeted them. It was a drab structure though grand in size. A dull fading yellow and red bled from the roofs downwards the results of materials worn down from time and exposure.

  Two more templar stood guard, though no words were exchanged by the two parties. They merely glanced at the junior inquisitor and made no move to question him.

  “Ignoring her incessant whining for a moment, let me warn you two of one thing. My… our mistress is a stern but fair master. The one thing she doesn’t tolerate are those who seek to fool her or lie. So if she should direct a question to you, answer truthfully. Understood?”

  “Yeah.” Sophie answered awkwardly.

  Lucinia opted for a more elegant nod, sparing herself from the embarrassment of uncertainty.

  He moved to open the door before stopping himself once more.

  “One more thing, don’t mind the spell.” He smirked.

  “Huh?” Sophie queried.

  Without warning, he pushed the door open and simply stepped in. The others gradually filed in without trouble, only when Sophie walked forward did she feel something odd. It was like a soft gnawing at the edge of the mind. A spell, no, multiple spells. Goddess, it feels so unpleasant.

  Within the manor, a flurry of activity wrapped her in a whirlwind of confusion. Dozens of administrators and soldiers hurried about the place. Knights, chevaliers, templars, and officers coordinated with each other over maps and reams of papers. Down a far hallway, a door burst open from a room at the end of the hallway, a few guards and individuals marching out in an orderly procession.

  Two red robed magisters and their guards passed the group first. One of whom traded a curious, but hopefully friendly glance with Mila. The two nodding knowingly at each other. An ally?

  Following them was the priest, the man deliberately avoiding even glancing at Mila’s direction. Not that Mila was particularly inclined to offer her respects to him. Unlike Philippe who at least paid lip service by bobbing his head towards all the officials who wandered out the room.

  He was followed by a few nobles clad in ornate waistcoats and jackets, all embroidered and displayed a plethora of motifs and house emblems. Unlike the colorful bevry that she had saw in Ostia, these where more monotone outfits though still vibrant and bright. Warm reds and cool blues were very much exaggerated, making them all the more striking compared to the formal uniforms around them.

  All of them however, appeared to be quite surprised by Mila’s reappearance. Amongst their number, even a few inquisitorial staff showed a similar amount of silent curioisty at her being here, even more so at the two who now awkwardly followed along.

  “Lord Orion.”

  “Lady Lyudmila.”

  One of them exchanged a particularly frosty greeting.

  Then, at end of the hallway stood a fully equipped inquisitor in full robed garb and armor. The only part of her not clad in black being her head where her hair hung freely if still tied up neatly. An almost familiar looking scowl was plastered on her face, her brow knitted together in frustration. Then, like an adventurer finding treasure, her eyes lit up. Sophie followed the object of her delight and found the older inquisitor staring at Mila.

  For her part, Mila wore a complicated mixture of joy, delight, and worry. Then a singular upturn of the inquisitor’s head, an invitation and a command.

  Both Mila and Philippe moved forward unquestioningly, leaving Sophie to wonder if she was part of this invitation or not.

  Letting out a hearty tut, Lucinia elbowed her in the side.

  “Come on, aren’t you the one always diving head first into danger? They’ll kick us out if they don’t want us there.” Lucinia tsked, more bold than Sophie expected.

  “Lady Lucinia?”

  The traxian just shrugged, “Not many chances to see the inside of a black hat operation. Might as well take advantage. So, for probably one of the only times I’ll say this, but after you.” She pointed with her arm.

  Sophie just sighed and steeled her nerves. Into the heart of beast I suppose, Goddess keep the church off my back after this.