Oath of Vigilance

Roghar scratched his chin. “Is it possible he didn’t recognize Nu Alin?”

“Maybe at first,” Shara said. “But he watched the demon hit me and he didn’t lift a finger. Then he just walked away.”

“I’m sorry to say it,” Roghar said, “but I think we need to treat the elf as an enemy until we know what’s going on.”

“Eladrin,” Tempest said automatically.

“Whatever. But perhaps Nu Alin has powers of mind control we’re not aware of.”

“Or else Kri does,” Shara said.

“Tell me again who this Kri is?” Roghar said. “A priest of Ioun, you said?”

“Yes. Kri helped us deal with another demon, another servant of Vestapalk. He knows more about the threat we face than anyone, and he said he was the last member of an order that Albanon’s mentor also belonged to. After we destroyed that other demon, he took Albanon into the Feywild, looking for a weapon we could use against Vestapalk.”

Roghar rumbled as he absorbed this information. “You think he was lying?”

“I don’t know,” Shara said. “I trusted him-I think we all did. But he seemed to be doing most of the talking with Nu Alin just now.”

“Imagine,” Quarhaun said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “A trusted servant of the gods turns out to be not so trustworthy after all.”

“What in the Nine Hells is that supposed to mean?” Roghar said.

“You think only priests of the Spider Queen are capable of treachery? I am not so naive.”

“If you expect treachery from every quarter, you’re certain to find it.”

“And if you don’t expect it,” Quarhaun said with a wry smile, “it will find you.”

“So you won’t be surprised to hear that I don’t trust you outside the reach of my sword arm,” Roghar growled.

“But a dagger in the ribs comes from inside that reach.” The drow was still smiling, but there was a look in his eyes that Roghar found even more threatening than his words.

“You’re right,” Roghar said, rising to his feet. “I don’t trust you at all, and I wouldn’t miss you if I never saw you again.”

“Roghar, sit down,” Shara whispered, glancing around at the soldiers and citizens who had paused from their celebrations to listen to him. “Quarhaun’s just toying with you.”

“Like a cat toys with a mouse before it pounces,” Roghar said as he lowered himself back down to his chair. “But I warn you, drow, I’m no mouse.”

Quarhaun shrugged. “And I’m no cat.”

“Stop it,” Shara said to the drow, squeezing his hand. “And you, too,” she added with a sharp glance at Roghar. “This whole thing started with Albanon and Kri. They’re the ones who let Nu Alin escape, not Quarhaun.”

“Well.” Roghar took a deep breath, biting back another angry retort for Shara’s sake. “The important thing is that we’ve scored a first victory. We killed a lot of those demons, and showed the citizens of Fallcrest a ray of hope. Now we take the fight to them and retake Lowtown!”

The nearby soldiers cheered, and the inn patrons who’d been dragged from their beds in the middle of the night joined in, and Roghar felt, however briefly, like a proper hero. But a glance at Shara, Tempest, and Uldane showed him that he’d failed to inspire them in the slightest.

“Fine,” Shara said. “You can be the hero of Fallcrest. But I have a dragon to kill. I’m tired of facing his exarchs and letting him mock me through them. I need to find him and take him out, once and for all.”

“What, and leave Fallcrest defenseless?” Roghar said.

“Cut off the head and the body dies, too,” Shara said, with a glance at Quarhaun. “Nu Alin isn’t the head. It’s Vestapalk. He’s out there, somewhere to the west, and I mean to find him.”

“Is Vestapalk the head of Kri and Albanon as well?” Tempest asked.

“I assume so,” Shara said. “Why?”

“What if he’s not? What if there’s another head behind them both? When does it stop?”

“Sooner or later, we’ll find whoever’s in charge of all of this. I think it’s Vestapalk. Do you have a better idea?”

“I’m just trying to say that it’s not necessarily a good idea to ignore these evils just because they’re not ‘the head,’ you see? If we discovered tomorrow that Vestapalk and Nu Alin and Kri were all servants of Tiamat, for example, would you abandon your quest for vengeance against Vestapalk and go hunt down the dragon queen?”

Shara frowned. “No,” she admitted. “But this is different. Vestapalk-not Tiamat, not any other evil mastermind, Vestapalk has taunted me through the mouths of two of his demon pawns. I’m through fighting pawns.”

Roghar glanced around the room. Soldiers and citizens alike were talking quietly among themselves, their initial fervor after his pronouncement fading quickly. “Listen,” he said. “A moment ago, half the people in this room were ready to charge out the door with me and drive the demons out of this town. With every second we spend bickering, that number drops. If we want to use their excitement, we have to act now.”

“You have to keep your pawns in play as well,” Shara said. “I see.”

“They’re not my pawns,” Roghar protested.

“Of course they are,” Quarhaun said. “At least the priests of Lolth have the honesty to admit it.”

“This is their town!” Roghar said. “I’m just encouraging them to retake it for themselves.”

“Fine,” Shara said. “Then let them retake it while we go hunt down Vestapalk.”

“They need leadership,” Roghar said.

Quarhaun arched an eyebrow. “The silken words of every tyrant.”

“Tyrant?” Roghar got to his feet again, drawing the eyes of every soldier in the room-and a few cheers. Emboldened by the cheers, he gave up on arguing with the drow and turned to address the room. “People of Fallcrest,” he said, “the time to liberate our town from the demons is now!” He drew his sword and held it over his head, inspiring more cheers.

“Now it’s our town,” he heard Quarhaun mutter behind him.

Roghar ignored him. “Soldiers, take up your arms! Gather your comrades! We gather in the square to free Lowtown and drive the demons back to the pits that spawned them! For Fallcrest, for Bahamut, and for glory!”

A roar of cheers nearly deafened him. The soldiers and many of the citizens were on their feet and crowding out the door to the square, ready to begin their counterassault. Roghar’s heart was pounding in his chest in anticipation of the coming battle.

“Well, I guess that settles it,” Shara said.

Roghar turned back to the table. Uldane and Tempest were on their feet as well, both looking ready to follow him out the door. Shara and Quarhaun still sat at the table, their arms folded and their faces dour.

“You’re not coming?” he said.

“What have I been saying all this time?” Shara said. “Have you even been listening?”

“But I thought-”

“You thought your stirring speech would change our minds, or that we’d be too embarrassed not to accompany you when the rest of the town was on your side. Or you just got caught up in the excitement and didn’t think at all. It doesn’t matter.”

“Shara, listen to reason.”

“Good luck with the demons, Roghar,” Shara said. She looked at Tempest. “I hope you find Nu Alin, and kill him for what he did to you.”

Roghar scowled. “Well,” he said, “I hope you get your revenge on Vestapalk as well.”

Shara extended a hand, and he shook it. He nodded to the drow, who returned the gesture, and turned to the door.

“Uldane?” Shara said.

“Good-bye, Shara,” the halfling said, his words clipped.

“I still don’t-”