Paladins: Returns and Resurrections

"Kill them! Burn them out now! Those bitches thought they could play with my mind? I want them dead!" 

Tarric shook his head. Archon Le'Straide had shaken off the vampiric domination the moment he was Protected From Evil, and now he was out for blood. He'd demanded to know where his paladin Tanovir was, and why he hadn't already dealt with the vampires. Tarric's patient explanation -- "You ordered him not to." -- might as well never have been spoken for all the man seemed to hear it. 

So now they were back in the tea shop, and Archon Le'Straide was pacing and yelling while the paladin Tanovir sat with a blank expression that was probably either rage, shame, or some combination of the two. Meanwhile the sun was setting, and the vampires would most likely awaken soon. Werendril knew it too: the narrowed eyes and slightly tilted head suggested that Archon Le'Straide was about three more words from having a very bad day. 

So when Werendril started to stand, Tarric stepped in and slapped the Archon across the face. As the man hit the ground he realized that he might have overdone it, but Werendril was a true elf and the Archon had the authority to have him executed -- regardless of his actual motives and loyalties. 

There was a moment of silence, and then Le'Straide drew a deep breath. 

"My lord Archon," said Tarric, dropping his shoulders and returning to a completely relaxed and casual stance, "you look like you're about to give an order that will most likely result in bloodshed. Possibly your own blood. And it won't get the situation with the vampires resolved. You've just been recovered -- forcefully -- from a very traumatic situation. You need to go to your home, bathe, and rest. Have a glass of wine or whiskey or al'cul if you need it. We'll deal with the vampires. They've done horrible things to you." 

"They did! That's why Tanovir should have--!"

Tarric shook his head, and the Archon -- looking up at him -- closed his mouth. 

"Tanovir acted as his honor demanded," Tarric said, and managed not to add however stupid that might have been. "The vampires are the problem here." He looked at Le'Straide, willing the man to believe him or at least play along. "They were the ones who did horrible things to you. So you need to go home, and let us destroy them." 

"I..." Archon Le'Straide hesitated. "You'll kill them? All of them?" 

"We'll make absolutely sure that every last one of them is destroyed, my lord," the paladin Tanovir said firmly. "It is our duty, and your order." 

The Archon started to rise, hesitated again, and looked at Werendril. "And the Elf?" 

Tanovir shrugged. "He is a paladin, albeit of a different order.  An elf, yes, but even some of the King's Solari are true elves. I have put him to the question, and he is not a spy. I cannot order you, my lord -- and I would not if I could -- but I give you this advice: let him help us destroy these unnatural things and restore Aldpond to the peace, safety, and prosperity that it deserves." 

Le'Straide clambered to his feet, then met Tanovir's eyes and huffed. "As you say," he said haughtily. "So long as the vampires are destroyed and this Elf assists, I will gladly accept his aid."

"Your humble servant," said Werendril, and Tarric flicked a glance at him because somehow he'd managed not to sound sarcastic about it. 

"There's just one problem," said a woman's voice, and all of them turned turned to face her.

She was human, or she had been. Her hair was a medium brown, her face well-formed but neither noble nor unusually attractive. She was wearing full plate armor and had a sword and dagger on her belt. "You're not the only paladins here."

Tanovir turned to her, looking thunderstruck: "Salya?"

The woman nodded to him. "I'm back. And I want a piece of them too."