Chapter 3: Drink Deep From the River of My Hate

Sir Reginald nods at the praise. "Come, then. Let's give this Invidian the holy cleansing they have earned."

You march back east across the Vale, headed for Sainted Mikkel's Shrine. You make it there just a few minutes before Invidian's forces arrive. From flat top of the hill on which the shrine is constructed, you can see the force of nearly two dozen raiders emerging from behind a nearby hillock, marching across the wet, boggy ground. Among the rank and file, the three leaders of the invading force are unmistakable.

Invidian themself is covered head to toe in intimidating black plate armor. An almost palpable aura of unease seems to radiate from the figure who rides astride a black steed. To their left rides Agada the Seer. The sorceress is bone white, whip thin, and has tattoos and scars covering her body. To Invidian's right rides a hooded priest with slumped shoulders and empty eyes--the man the raider you captured referred to as the Broken One, an apt appellation.

Seeing you waiting at the shrine, Invidian raises a mailed hand to signal their forces to halt. The figure calls out in a clear, booming voice. "Followers of the High One! Your god is a monstrous thing, unworthy of worship! Renounce your faith and join with the Unbelievers, and you will be spared. Refuse, and you will be purged from this world."

"I will brook no challenge to my leadership," Invidian says to R3N-L3. "You will follow my orders, or you will not be a part of my forces."

The archon turns their baleful gaze on Lauretta. "What you call a 'grudge,' I call righteous anger. Once, I ranked among the greatest of all seraphs who served the High One. The trouble began when a city in the old country, one that had long been an example of piety and devotion, fell to darkness. They closed the temples, shattered the idols, and gave themselves to dark powers. Hidden among the wicked people were small groups who clung to their faith, who fought against the evil scratching at their doors. But they were not enough to spare the city from the High One's wrath.

"Your god damned the city and its inhabitants. He dispatched an army of seraphs to wipe the place from the Erth, to tear down all their works, and salt the ground so that nothing would grow. I was among the angels that dropped from the clouds, and I followed my orders. calling down flames to scour the city. Yet in the chaos, I spied a group of terrified children, hiding beneath the rubble. Another seraph spotted them too and moved to end them, but a surge of compassion overtook me. The children were innocent! They had done nothing to deserve death. And so I turned on my companion, and I slew the other seraph to spare the children’s lives.

"For this act of mercy, the High One sentenced me to exile. I fell in a ball of fire from Paradise, my wings taken from me, doomed to walk the world until the end of days. A god who would condone the murder of children is no god mortals should follow. And so I will see that the High One's church is cleansed, one temple, one priest at a time. I will not be swayed from my great work.

"I do not wish to kill you, but I will if you insist on standing in my way. I offer one last chance for you to lay down your arms and step aside."

"It is ironic that you put so much stock in the fable of Mikkel," Invidian says. "A man who was named a saint for being slaughtered by a hungry monster. But his so-called noble sacrifice was anything but that." They gesture to the priest beside them, who looks at you with a thousand-yard stare. "Behold your saint! Mikkel, alive, through his own cowardice. He did not stand before the manticore as the stories proclaim, but rather fled. The remains the people of this vale discovered belonged to an unfortunate pilgrim who happened to arrive on the scene as Mikkel ran for his life. Mikkel had wandered far from here, too ashamed to return until I came across him. It didn't take much convincing before he told me all about this place, its inhabitants, its lack of defenses. And now I have come to raze it to the ground."

Invidian solemnly draws their long sword from their scabbard, raising the serrated blade high. "Enough prattle. I will not be swayed from my righteous wrath. Forward, Unbelievers! Slay them all!"

The wild raiders give out a ragged shout as they begin to rush forward! "Stand firm! For the High One!" Sir Reginald declares, raising his own sword high as he prepares to lead his forces to counter their charge!