Duendewood vs Sol Povos 3: There Is Another Option

"There is one alternative," Tavros said quietly, "but it's probably suicidal."

"Oh?" asked Ruin. 

"The forbidden wing of the castle felt like... like a different kind of evil from the Nightwings and the shadows. It might be the product of a different god, or it might be the place which anchors Fanaxia to the Abyss."

Ruin considered that. "You're suggesting that we might be able to... contact Asmodeus, and bargain with him to send us home in exchange for the sword and the hand?" 

Tavros nodded. "It might keep the artifacts away from Vecna, and it might still get us back home. The gods cannot visit Midgard in person because of the Compact, but I believe Asmodeus could still send us there." 

"If he agreed," said Ruin, "and if he kept his end of the bargain -- and if he didn't just annihilate us and take the artifacts anyway. And that's assuming that Asmodeus actually wants to prevent Vecna from returning to Midgard, which... I would not take that bet. If Azrael's right and Vecna did somehow bargain with Asmodeus to become a god, Asmodeus may be planning for him to somehow open the way back to Midgard. This whole thing could actually be Asmodeus' plan, with Vecna as a willing co-conspirator." 

"That's..." Tavros held his hands up. "Yes. That's the risk. One of them, anyway. We just don't know enough... about anything, it feels like." 

Ruin nodded. He wasn't entirely sure if Tavros wasn't what he'd expected, or if the half-dragon was just so perfectly what he'd expect of a friend of Anica and Aesa that it kept throwing him off, but... How the hell did I find myself enjoying my time at a temple on human lands, and befriending priests and paladins? Part of it, here and now, was that Tavros was easy to be with. He didn't have Geddy's charisma, but he had this particular voice he used that made you feel like everything would be fine and you could tell him anything you needed to say. Confessional voice. Paladin voice. 

"You didn't want to suggest this in front of the others," Ruin said quietly. 

"No," Tavros admitted. They'd moved to their own corner of the tavern, once the group started breaking up. Or rather, Ruin had moved to his own corner of the tavern, and Tavros had followed him over. "No, your friend Azrael seemed just a little too keen on meeting demons, and I have a fear that Marshall Mercy is truly evil -- in a strict, spiritual sense. At the very least, he can order undead around in a way that good priests simply don't do. I suppose he might just have a knack for negative energy effects, but..." 

Ruin nodded. Mercy had never been anything less than loyal to their group, and Ruin had never seen him do anything gratuitously horrible, but his morals had never been particularly better than Ruin's own. And Ruin knew that his own desire to do good was strongly at war with his rage, his bloodlust, and his need for violence. They'd proven that again, just recently, in the cavern with the frost giants. "It's possible, O my enemy." 

Tavros tilted his head. "Are we enemies?" 

"I don't know." Ruin looked at him. "A god for all peoples. Is that even possible...? I don't know. But our peoples are on the edge of war, and I feel like the best thing we could do is stop that from happening... but if they do go to war then we're standing on opposite sides. Aren't we?"

Tavros shook his head, sighed. "I don't know. Things were simpler at the temple. I didn't even know I was related to the king. My mother is a famous wizard, and in her youth she was an adventurer, and when I was growing up we always had all sorts of people coming to visit the house. Elves, dwarves, halflings, gnomes... a half-celestial, once. Other wizards. And then I went to the temple, fell in with Anica and Tarric and Aesa, studied under Akkora -- did you meet her?" 

Ruin nodded. "She's my friend." She'd told him so herself. 

"Those are my people, Ruin. Not the humans of Sol Povos in general, or the King, or the Court. The ones I know, and care about, and cherish. Who are yours?" 

Ruin sat back in his chair. There was a pewter mug of ale in front of him, but he hadn't so much as sipped from it yet. Darvinin, of course. And Shanna, and Werendril, and their friends. Our mother. Martini and Azrael... and Geddy. Darvinin's lover, whatever the hell her name was. Mythrandril the King, possibly. Definitely not the High Provost, so definitely not all elves. Amaranth. 

Anica and Aesa. And Akkora. The halfling priest Birno, who let us in without so much as blinking. Hell, even Halmar and Selucca. The High Druid. Eva and Rita. That mayor we rescued that one time...

Damn it.

"...The crazy ones, I think," he said finally. "The ones who don't fit in, and know it, and find or make a place for themselves anyway. "

Tavros just looked at him. 

Ruin grumbled. "Yes, yes, I see it. We needn't be enemies, O my ally. Gods-damned paladins." 

Tavros smiled. "So... Asmodeus is too big a risk. The sword and the hand can probably bring us back to our own world. Whatever happens then, we need to unite our peoples against the Order of Secrets and make jolly damned sure that Vecna doesn't get reincarnated here -- or that if he does, we kill him immediately."

"And very, very thoroughly," Ruin agreed. "If that's even possible."

"So we make our own side," said Tavros. "Against Vecna, and against the war."

There was a momentary pause. Then: "What the hell," said Ruin. "There are worse things to die for. I'm in."