The Templar's Prize

Commissioned by Lord Kavian Melos to hunt down and destroy a cilops--a massive centipede-like creature terrorizing the lord's holdings outside the city--Vis, Nix, and Nox ventured forth into the semi-wild lands of near-Tyr. The journey was nothing out of the ordinary, just 3 days and 2 nights with favorable weather. The lords' estate was as lush as ever, with suspiciously distraught-looking "paid laborers" working the fields. Their master explained that the creature had been attacking them for weeks, and they were too afraid to work.

Tracking the cilops was no mean feat, even with Nix's keen tracking skills. The beast makes no secret of itself while hunting at night, but by day--or whenever it feels endangered--it burrows underground, leaving little trace of its passage. After a futile pair of attempts on subsequent nights--one unfortunately ending in casualties amongst the farm workers--Vis managed to cleverly leave some of his own blood on the creature by maneuvering his arm into its mandibles. Cleverly.

Tracking his own blood was at least hypothetically possible with his skillset, but his admittedly rusty grasp of Keshem made it impossible in this circumstance. With some coaxing, and a lot of uncertainty on his part, he agreed to succumb to Nox's spell, which would put him in a trance-like state, nearly dead, allowing Nix to follow his phylactery to the comparably-more-living part of himself. It worked, and Nix was able to track the cilops to its lair, where they encountered a complication.

In a cavern system, a small band of escaped "laborers" had made a home, hiding from the templars and their masters. They were understandably hostile to outsiders, especially ones bearing weapons, and a tense negotiation ensued. Nox's honeyed words weren't quite opening doors, until Vis took command, showed them his tattoos, and swore on his Ashkari blood that he would never allow them to re-enter bondage.

Ironically, the very caverns they'd made a temporary home were the home of the cilops, albeit deeper within. It did not hunt them, as it was in fact not interested in man-flesh; its attacks on the farm were to secure vegetable matter for its own survival, and the casualties had more to do with its agitated state than any hunger (something they would come to understand later). Still, they were no doubt in danger, and he gave them supplies and instructions to find a safe way to Tyr, and contacts who would help them find new lives in the city, rather than selling them out.

With the caverns cleared, they ventured deeper to find the cilops in its torpor, though less so than it ought to be in mid-day. In the battle, Nix noted the creature seemed agitated, more aggressive than normal, and quite erratic. Vis found this truly fascinating--but for the more immediate problem of a 30-foot-long centipede monster trying to eat him. Still, Nix's curiosity wouldn't be denied, and he was ultimately able to determine that the creature had been poisoned. He felt affronted, as if his honor as a hunter had been besmirched, and insisted on tracking down the source of the poison. Vis couldn't care less, as they had their trophy.

Nix had thought they'd been followed, and confirmed it as they ventured back to the lord's manor. The lord was quite happy with the outcome, but still charged them for damages done (to his property, not the slain "laborers"). Vis began to dream up mad ideas of liberating all the farm workers, burning down the master's mansion, and leading a desert rebellion, but Nox wisely dissuaded him. They were paid, and sent on their way.

Nix, guiding them back home, took a circuitous route, whose purpose soon became clear. He managed to find the poisoner's camp before she could fully pack it in. Sarat, a junior templar, had been watching them all along, and had set the whole quest in motion by poisoning the cilops in the first place. She whispered the guild's name in the Lord's ear, and they came running like god dogs. Her order wished to evaluate the guild's ability to deal with such problems reliably and discreetly, and she was satisfied.

Naturally, Vis mouthed off about the escaped slaves, and the flagrant violation of Tyran law that he was expected to "discreetly" keep secret for a pittance of coin. Sarat seemed unrepentant, but challenged his ideals. Would he really jeopardize his own freedom, and that of his guildmates, for a handful of ungrateful peasants? Vis had no eloquent words for her, but his resolve showed true. And in that, she was also satisfied.

That night, they approached the manor under cover of darkness, and Vis slipped inside to confront the escaped slaves. They were terrified, but he assured them of their safety, and led them out through a secret passage he'd discovered earlier. The Lord himself was confronted by Sarat, on whose authority he attempted to lean for protection against these "criminals". Sarat was having none of it. Though her order had once been happy to clap arms in irons, she now stood firm against it, for one simple reason: it was the Law. The Lord could be brought to Tyr warm, or cold; his choice.

On the way home, he attempted to penetrate Sarat's cool resolve and stoic demeanor. Why should she plot and connive, only to stand firm on matters of law? Why take such a risk opposing a wealthy noble, when she could profit so well by letting him buy his freedom? Sarat's answers were measured, but firm. She was a templar, and templars upheld the law. It was as simple as that. Vis found in her a curious sort of kin, so different in manner, yet similar in fundamental outlook. Further attempts to penetrate her made little progress on the journey back, but they parted amiably within the city walls, and he thought he saw a hint of a smile on her lips as they said their goodbyes.