Divine Alliances: Consequences for Ruin

(We're catching up a bit here, as all of this would have happened before Martini took Ruin and Marshall to kill Duke Lamont, and Tavros, Leira, Geddy, and Ava went to execute Bouvier. Still, this is relevant and hopefully anybody who's following along can keep the timeline sorted out for themselves.)

Ruin took a moment to look carefully up and down the corridor, but nobody else was nearby. He lifted a hand and knocked gently on the wooden door. "Terra?"

The Avatar yanked the door open so quickly that Ruin wondered if she'd been waiting behind it. She reached out, grabbed the top edge of his breastplate, and pulled him into the room, slamming the door gently -- by her standards -- behind her. "Ruin," she acknowledged.

He looked at her, looked at the simple travel bag on her bed, half-packed, and then at the open doors of the wooden wardrobe. "What...?" he asked with a puzzled frown.

"I think it's time for me to leave," she told him. "Your friend the would-be king -- probably will-be king, even without my help -- is too easily influenced. If he won't hold to his bargain, then there's no point to my being here."

Ruin shrugged. "I just came to see if you wanted another bout."

She stopped, studied him. "You did, didn't you?"

He nodded. "Will you tell me what happened?"

"Another Avatar showed up, and a representative from Indra -- Ezra somebody-or-other. I couldn't tell if he was an avatar or the head of the Order of the Mischievous Winds, but he was arrogant enough for either. Your king gave way to them immediately. He told them, right in front of me, that he wouldn't be converting the Temple of the Elements to a temple for Demeter." She stopped, studying his face. "So I'm leaving."

Ruin hadn't come prepared for any of this. Politics wasn't his business; he had children to raise and a once-nameless god to murder. But Tavros... he took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then took another. Finally he said, "May I venture to give you some advice?"

Terra held up a hand. Ruin had never been good at reading people, but he could see her anger warring with a fundamental desire to help. The expression was uncomfortably familiar.

He looked away, waited.

Finally she said, "Very well. What would you advise?"

Ruin sighed. "Tavros has this problem where he listens to people and actually wants to help them. It's a difficulty for him. And in this case, I think you may actually have contributed to the difficulty."

"Oh?" Terra Windblade tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, and Ruin resisted the urge to step back... or remove himself to somewhere else entirely.

"As I heard it," he said carefully, "you yourself suggested the Temple of the Elements as a site for the new Temple of Demeter. It is, after all, mostly demolished, and the one deity whose temple remains there intact is one we have no particular reason to trust. And Tavros may be a paladin, but he's not an Avatar. It probably didn't occur to him that the gods whose temples had been there would object to having them replaced with temples to other gods entirely. He likely thought they'd write them off as having already been destroyed by Indra, and direct their wrath at the Blue Devil. If Indra's temple was destroyed in turn -- which seems like something we might have to do -- then the slate would be clean and Tavros could build his Temple of All there."

He paused, but Terra studied him for another long moment and then said, "Go on."

"I don't pretend to understand the ways of the gods," or want anything to do with them, really, "but it should hardly surprise you that if Indra and... is it Belrab? ...arrive at once, Tavros would consider their objections to that course of action reasonable. That doesn't mean he won't keep faith with you, it just means that whatever he commits to won't be on the site of the Temple of the Elements. The Covenant of Amun will still become the official religion of Sol Povos--"

Terra narrowed her eyes, suddenly thoughtful. "Just the Three?"

Ruin lifted his hands, uncertain. "Based on a conversation I had earlier today, I believe so. I make no promises, O my favorite opponent."

"Then what of the proposed temples for Corellon and Artemis?"

"Moved north to Duendewood, to be supported by the elvish king Mythrandril once Duke Lamont is--" He coughed, pretending to subtlety. "--deposed."

The Avatar of Demeter eyed him. "You're planning to murder him, aren't you?"

Ruin leaned forward, met her eyes, and said: "Thoroughly."

The Avatar of Demeter laughed. "I shouldn't like you as much as I do, Elf." She frowned. "Will Tavros promise anything to the Avatar of Belrab?"

Ruin thought about that. "Perhaps a token of support to help rebuild that portion of the Temple of the Elements. Nothing beyond that." He thought a moment longer, then added: "Does your goddess know that Vecna's priesthood is trying to resurrect her here in Sol Povos? That's our primary fear. That's why Tavros is trying to pull the kingdom back together so quickly. He doesn't actually want to be king, and he's deathly afraid he's going to mangle the job. And if we're being completely honest here, that's why I want you to stay. Because if Vecna does find a way to violate the Compact, having you with us makes me that much less likely to die horribly."

"Well..." Terra said grudgingly. "I suppose I should at least stay long enough to hear him out."

"Thank you. The far side of the lake again? In, say, an hour?"

"Why not now?" asked Terra.

"I would, but I need to check in with Tavros and make sure I'm not misrepresenting the plan."

Terra eyed him. "And if you are? Say you were... honestly mistaken... in what you just told me? What then?"

Ruin shrugged. "Then I'll tell you exactly what I've I learned in an hour, right before you knock me into a few more trees."

Terra laughed. "Go, go," she said and made a little shooing gesture.

Ruin made a quick calculation, then transported himself to the dining hall. He might not find Tavros or Mythrandril there, but it was a good place to start.

* * *

Five hours later, Ruin stood at the entrance to the Chapel of All, hesitating for a moment before he stepped inside. There was nobody here, and nobody approaching. For this one small moment in the deep of the night, nobody had come here to pray.

Aesa's voice came back to him then: young, excited, and only newly a priestess. Can you feel him? She'd asked. She'd meant Amun, in whose cathedral they'd been standing at the time. Or Corellon? He hadn't, of course. He never had. And he'd never wanted to.

What in the depths of the Abyss am I doing here?

It was an empty question. He knew perfectly well why he'd come, uncomfortable though he might be with his own decision. He made his way slowly forward until he was standing in front of the altar, then reached down and laid a hand on it. Corellon Larethian. You listening, Grandfather?

He still didn't feel any response, but that was fine. This was too close to actually praying already; he didn't want to find himself suddenly engaged in some sort of communion. "Corellon," he said again, this time out loud. "I don't pray to you. I never have. I wouldn't really know how. But there's a lot going on right now, between Vecna trying to find a way around the Covenant and a bunch of other gods gathering to take advantage of a turning point in the history of Sol Povos. I'll do what I can, but nobody's going to associate me with you. So if you're going to protect your people and increase your influence... now's the time to step in, Old Man."

He lifted his hand from the altar and turned away, heading for the exit.

Werendril was standing in the doorway, leaning against one side of it. Only... this wasn't Werendril. The figure cast no shadow, and though its chest moved no breath stirred the air. "I knew you'd come around," the paladin said, but that was wrong too: the words didn't make the faintest echo off the stone walls all around them.

"...Grandfather," Ruin acknowledged. He touched the hilt of his blade, more for comfort than anything else. He doubted that having it in his hand would make any difference to this at all.

"Is that any sort of way to address me?" It was Werendril's voice, or it would have been if Werendril were bodiless and also slightly amused. "The creator of your race, to whom you owe your very existence? Show some respect, Child."

Ruin felt himself go completely still. Then he said, "I welcome your attention, O Divine Creator of the Elves, Mighty Hunter, Fleet of Foot and Sharp of Eye. How may my humble self serve Your Greatness?"

The image of Werendril seemed to study him. "Are you being sarcastic?"

Ruin shrugged. "At this point, I can't tell either." And that was utterly true: in this, as in so many other things, he was operating purely on intuition.

Soft laughter filled the Chapel of All. "Well, then. What is it you would have me do? Should I intercede on behalf of your friend the half-dragon? Or perhaps on behalf of Mythrandril and Duendewood instead? Should I call forth an avatar of my own?"

Ruin just stared at him, at Werendril's face, for a long, long moment. "Why does everyone with power want me to make decisions for them?" he asked. "And why does it always feel like a trap when they do?"

The image of Werendril tilted its head in acknowledgement. "True, you carry an obligation to the druids already." It paused, suddenly serious. "Would you become my avatar? I could take the crystal from you, and with it the debt it carries. Serve me, and I will choose the next Hierophant and see that the crystal is delivered to its proper heir."

Ruin hesitated for a long, long moment before he asked: "Are you being sarcastic?"

Werendril's likeness shrugged. "Better you than someone who yearns to be close to their god, to receive my guidance and follow my direction. You would take my power and go out and do things with it, instead of bugging me all the time to make sure your actions were in accordance with my will."

"...That sounds like you've had issues before." Ruin couldn't believe he was having this conversation. He more than half hoped he was imagining it. "I don't want to know. But no, the debt to the druids is mine to pay, however I came by it."

The image of Werendril smiled. "I could make you my avatar anyway, you know."

Ruin didn't doubt it. He wasn't even entirely certain that he wouldn't eventually come to enjoy it. But that old, old anger was still there; and for all that had happened, he was who he was. "You will do as you will, All-Father of Elvenkind," he said, "but if the choice is mine, then I would refuse it. I came here to make certain you were... aware of events. Not to ask for favors, nor to offer my help."

Werendril's likeness smiled. "As you wish. There are other ways to make my influence known." Still smiling, he disappeared. 

That sounds ominous. Ruin waited for the length of a breath, and then another. His heart was racing, and he wasn't certain if he was relieved or disappointed. Then he strode forward, passed through the doorway, and made his way back to his cell.

The bard showed up the next morning.