by Domino Finn
"A sword, more like."
"Arr."
The pirate's rapier flew from his waist and slashed oncoming enemies. His weapon was much faster than mine. Together, we fought off another wave, back to back.
"How'd you know I was in trouble?" I shouted.
Errol: Ye do fuckin' realize I'm still a member of yer party, don't ya?
I rattled a knight's helmet with my boot and chuckled.
Talon: You know, I'm not so sure your pirate speak is internally consistent.
"Duck!" he yelled.
I did and he tossed a small blade over me into a knight's eyehole. "You too!"
He dipped low as I swung up and returned the favor by tearing a priest's head off. Errol rolled under my guard and impaled a crusader at my back. Lash shouted and began casting another buff. A loud explosion rocked her forward. She pitched to her hands and knees.
Trafford strode into the main entry holding a giant smoking hand cannon, much larger than the one I'd previously seen him with. As he marched, he poured a horn of powder into the weapon and bit off a length of wick.
"You asshats don't think I'm gonna leave all the fun to you, do ya?"
Everyone turned, fearful of his unpredictable weapon. It sure packed a punch, but Lash wasn't down for the count. A crater in her armor smoked, but she regained her feet.
Trafford joined our side. It was funny. The NPCs I'd been trying to recruit were the watchmen, but Errol alone doubled my fighting power. With Trafford it was beginning to look like we had an outside chance of success.
Unfortunately, seconds make all the difference in combat. At about the time my regeneration buff elapsed, Stigg lost his battle with the second closed gate. The wooden doors splintered open and another legion of crusaders flooded into the Circus.
The three of us cleared our backs and stepped away from the new wave of soldiers.
"Stop," shouted Grimwart, annoyed. "Stop this at once." The captain brushed away an escort of priests and forced his way through the main entrance. "Leave me be! I will not be kept away from these proceedings." He turned to face the arena and paused in shock.
The crusaders slowed their advance. One priestess didn't notice the lack of backup and moved in. Errol and I simultaneously stabbed her through.
Grimwart marched up to Lash, his black armor contrasting her white. "What is the meaning of this, soldier?"
Both knights were impressive specimens. Lash was a player and stood taller. Then again, Grimwart was technically her superior.
"Ask the bishop," she squealed under her breath.
His helmet swiveled to Tannen. To the saints at the gallows. "This is not what we are here for. We're inciting violence. The very evil we're sworn to stamp out."
Tannen glared at the priests who'd failed to keep Grimwart occupied. "This does not concern you, Colonel."
"The hell it doesn't."
"Watch your language."
"Fuck my language," he boomed. "You presume to hold the saints prisoner now?"
Tannen stepped forward. "And you presume to question your superior?" The bishop snubbed his nose in the air. "I am aware of your midnight antics. Do not forget, Grimwart, that the only reason you have not succumbed to your curse was because of my healing hand."
"That matters not, Bishop."
"It is all that matters. This is a criminal prosecution. Now order your men to capture the dissidents."
The priests surrounding us looked to their knight counterparts. The crusaders appeared divided.
"I will not," announced Grimwart. "The crusaders will not be responsible for murdering the Protector of Stronghold."
Tannen scowled at the soldier. "I will reward the dutiful knights who bring me his head!"
The men shuffled. Some closed in.
"Stand down!" commanded Grimwart. He drew his bastard sword in both hands and slammed it so hard on the ground we all shook. "Do not forget who your colonel is! Do not forget who has traveled with you, bled with you, and died with you." He swept his gaze over his soldiers and lowered his voice in stern sincerity. "Do not forget your honor."
The crusaders began backing away. Uncertainly, at first, but once the momentum shifted it was easier for the army to follow along. They were soldiers, after all.
Still, Grimwart's ranks were not without dissenters. Some of the knights, perhaps seeking favor with the bishop, remained in place clutching their swords. Many others backed away but shuffled listlessly, waiting to see which direction the wind blew. The three of us weren't exactly in immediate danger, but I wouldn't call this a truce. It was more like the eye of a hurricane.
Bishop Tannen stood straight up in a good show, hands clasped behind his back, but he was livid. He clicked his tongue a few times in annoyance.
Grimwart approached the stage. "We cannot mimic the lawlessness of Shorehome in the holy city. This is the seat of the saints in Haven."
"Well said, Colonel. And it is here that I aim to make the same statement against lawlessness." Tannen sneered at me. "Your refusal to arrest Talon will be noted, but it is inconsequential. If the Betrayer of Stronghold wishes to have front-row seats at the trial, let him have his wish."
The priests retreated to the base of the stage. Outnumbered by the wavering crusaders, they unified to protect their leader.
Temporarily sated, the bishop turned to the crowd and boomed. "All of you have heard me warn of the evils of the fallen one. A great foe, he is, indeed. My latest reports confirm his hijacking of two golden angels."
The audience listened in earnest. The stalled combat, the saints imprisoned—it was a lot to process.
"But in this isolated case, the cause of our ills was not the devil. It was not Lucifer who handed the city of Shorehome over to the enemy. The saints detonated the Great Well and abandoned their people. The saints left them to the mindless goblins and savages."
Grimwart stepped closer to his leader. "No one is denying mistakes have been made."
"A mistake is an accident, dear knight." Tannen smiled pitifully. "Robbing the Great Well of the Squid's Tooth. Unleashing the dreaded kraken upon the city and handing it over to criminals. These were the conniving actions of the so-called father of Shorehome, Saint Loras."
Everyone gasped. I have to admit, I did too. But only 'cause my heart stopped for a second there. The arena turned to the broken saint, already fitted with a tight noose. The guilt splayed across his face made the truth clear. Even the saints beside him displayed shock.
Bishop Tannen flashed a grim smile. "As we all know, reform does not come without punishment." He turned to the gallows. "Pass the sentence."
A single trapdoor swung out and Loras snapped down. I jumped forward but he was dead instantly. I clenched my jaw, unsure what was happening.
The bishop held his head low in mock reverence. "Next is the man who nearly destroyed the holy city. The man who empowered a false Protector, and allowed the Eye of Orik to be reunited with the cyclops." He signaled and the priests on stage shoved Saint Peter forward. A knight hooked a noose over his neck and pulled it tight.
"No!" I yelled. "He wasn't at fault!"
"You're welcome to take the blame and stand for him on the gallows, Talon."
I grumbled. I'd expected a fight, but with Izzy and Kyle safe in Dragonperch, I hadn't expected Tannen to hold leverage against me. I had no choice but to go full crazy.
"Wait!"
The bishop arched an eyebrow as I removed an object from my inventory and strode toward the platform. The priests massed ahead of me but I growled at them and they backed away until I stood at the base of the stage, under the bishop's feet.
"I know what you want, Tannen. You'll never get the dragonspear, but you can make do with this." I held the object high. Tannen cocked his head and fixated on it. "I'll make you a deal," I said. "I offer this to you, a gift, in return for releasing the saints. If Loras did indeed sin, no other saints need to be punished for it."
The bishop was frozen with indecision and hunger. H
is lips curled back as he salivated. His eyes flashed to Saint Peter and back to the red satin sack in my hand. Finally, he gave a quick nod. I tossed the bag to the stage. It tumbled at his feet and he scooped it up like a dog finding a bone. Tannen reached long fingers into the sack and pulled out the crown of the wild king.
"This is a pagan artifact," he said. The priests and crusaders looked on with distaste.
"It is, but it gives you what you want. What you truly want."
"The mantle of Ruler of the Blackwood?" he sniggered.
"The mantle provides the power to create a new faction." I leaned closer. "That's your goal, isn't it? Strike out on your own. Forsake the Trinity. Make your mark on the world. You can do it with the stag crown. But only if you let the saints live."
His eyes flicked to me.
"Faction creation requires the approval of the saints. Only they can do it for you. Let the others go. Release them, and Saint Peter will approve your request."
The crosscut helm turned to Peter. I wasn't sure how to prove the truth to Tannen. I wasn't sure what gauge NPCs had against lies, or what handle they had on game mechanics. But, as far as Varnu had reported, this was how it worked. And when Saint Peter gave his nod of confirmation, the bishop realized, for the first time, that he needed the saints. Or one of them, at least.
"The White King is not cruel," Tannen announced to the crowd. "The saint who betrayed us has been dealt with. Release the others." The priests seemed to be disappointed, but they followed the order unquestioningly.
Grimwart motioned to a few trusted knights. "Make sure the saints are returned to the Pantheon without harassment." The men nodded and led the saints, sans Peter, away. The developers didn't appear especially reassured by their escort, and I didn't blame them. But Grimwart had already proven his moral fiber. The world might not be black and white, but his beliefs were as stark as the colors he wore. There'd be no subterfuge with him.
And now I swallowed uncomfortably as the proverbial cat was out of the bag. Not only did the crown expose us, but I'd just given Bishop Tannen exactly what he wanted.
1030 Guild Wars: Factions
"The sun shines on a new day in Stronghold," blared the bishop, mimicking the opening words of the ceremony. This time, however, his eyes stared hungrily at the skull in his grip. "A new era of leadership." Tannen held the crown of the wild king for all in the stands to witness. "I do not take the mantle of Ruler of the Blackwood for my benefit. It is a burden, in truth. But any power of the pagans held by me is one withheld from them."
His priests nodded, but it was obvious many in the crowd could see his zealotry. This was a man of shifting morals, one who saw the right thing as the one which coincided with personal gain.
"Today I use an object of evil as a force for good. A day for all to see that the pious in the world have a new home." Tannen turned to Saint Peter with an alligator smile. "Would you do the honors, dear friend?"
Saint Peter frowned and contemplated all the people in attendance, all the people he'd sworn to guide. Every second of this decision was a miserable one for him. But he had already saved his fellow saints, whatever the in-game ramifications of doing so were. I wondered why they hadn't just logged off. I wondered if they were incapable. Peter stretched his neck against the uncomfortable noose, no doubt still in place as an incentive to comply. Eventually, his gaze landed on me, and I nodded. Peter turned to the bishop and gave his blessing.
"Then it is a glorious day indeed!" gleamed Tannen. A global notification popped up.
Global Haven Alert:
Bishop Tannen has formed a new faction: the Catechists.
This is a branched faction of the Crusaders. Various faction attributes will carry over.
The bishop erupted in boisterous laughter. "Yes!" he shrieked. "It is done! I am supreme!" He fanned his arms toward the sky and basked in his achievement.
I'm not sure if Tannen thought he'd ascend into the heavens right then and there, but no holy spotlights consumed him or lifted him to grace. He just kinda stood there, surrounded by his groupies. After an awkward moment, he realized he was the center of attention and addressed the onlookers.
"Come to me, my men. Welcome to a new world. A new order." Notifications popped up in front of everybody.
Faction Invite
Stronghold residents are hereby invited to join the Catechists.
Join Catechists?
I swiped the dialog away and muttered, "You've got to be shitting me." The priests gobbled up the invites. Grimwart canceled the request and commanded the crusaders to do the same. The order received a mixed reaction.
Izzy: Did Tannen just win?
I forced a brave face even as my stomach turned.
Talon: Magic 8 Ball says too early to tell.
Kyle: I had one of those!
Izzy: I did too. I don't think that was one of the possible answers.
"Colonel!" bellowed the bishop as he spun to his subordinate. The crosscut helmet lowered and his face darkened, two golden eyes the only visible feature. "I understand your duty to the crusaders. We are one and the same in the fight against evil. You must, however, understand that the righteous are often tested. I now ask for your faith, Colonel Grimwart. Listen to your bishop and corral the violators. Do your part toward the unification of Stronghold. Bring them to me at once."
The staunch military commander weighed his sword in one hand. He twirled his off hand in the air to gather his troops to him. They snapped into disciplined lines.
"You speak the truth," he replied to his superior. "We are indeed one and the same when it comes to faction lines. But our minds are wholly different."
The bishop's eyes narrowed. "Do not act in a way you might regret," he warned.
"If I turned on the very people I was sworn to protect, I'd regret it the rest of my life. I will not assist in your quest for power."
"I do not ask for assistance," snapped Tannen. "I demand compliance."
"I am the colonel of the crusader army. I answer to the Trinity. Last night I sent a rider to Oakengard. They are to be notified of your treachery."
Tannen grumbled. "The good knight and the wise lady." He spat. "I care not for their edicts."
"Then you will be dealt with."
Soldiers on both sides of the line tensed. Several quietly drew weapons. The bishop, however, wasn't concerned. He stood over the crusaders and goaded them on.
"Dealt with?" he guffawed. "By you? It is blasphemy to attack me without their word. Tell me, are the leaders you choose to prefer in attendance? Are they supporting this mutiny?"
Grimwart stood defiantly against the catechist inquisition.
The bishop hissed and appealed directly to the knights in black. "He is your colonel, but I am your bishop. Your holy compass. My word supersedes his. Arrest him."
I'd never seen so many full helms swivel in unison. Armored feet shuffled listlessly in the arena dirt.
"You've outdone yourself," returned Grimwart, emboldened. "Upon the founding of your own faction. Granted, our objectives may still be aligned. My oaths still stand. You are well aware that my men and I are barred from personally ousting you. But you're a catechist now, Bishop. I will not bow to your orders, and neither will my men. I am still their colonel. Our original charge, handed down by the Trinity, was to recruit and fight the war against the pagans." Grimwart made a show of looking around. "I see not a goblin or imp in sight. I declare Stronghold free from danger. The crusaders are no longer needed here."
Tannen's helmet visibly shook as he stewed underneath. "This is high treason."
The colonel ignored the catechist and barked orders. "Men! Round up. Gear up. Saddle the horses. We ride out of Stronghold forthwith!"
The bulk of the black tunics snapped into action. I think they were just excited at the prospect of getting the hell out of here. But jabs were traded among fellow soldiers. Some swords were brandished. Tannen and Grimwart snapped orders at the men who hesitated, getting them to second-gu
ess their actions even more. Both leaders were resolute in their stances and left little room for consideration.
"If you refute my order," announced Grimwart, "you are no crusader. March out or abandon your vows. That is your choice."
The army began exiting in a line, but it was clear they were leaving some behind. Black tunics planted their feet and joined the catechists. Black cloaks blinked to white. Crosses filled with gold. It was demoralizing to witness, but I tried to focus on the fact that the majority of the army was abandoning Tannen.
Colonel Grimwart stepped to me as his soldiers marched past. "I'm sorry I can't fight the bishop with you, but I sure as hell won't help him. I hope that, by pulling out the crusaders, I'm preventing all-out war."
The growing number of catechists watched as the colonel fell in with his army and exited the Circus. A void was left behind them, trampled dirt and other remnants, like the circus had just packed up and left town. Bishop Tannen's forces were crippled by the sudden departure.
At the same time, members of the crowd slowly rose to their feet. Cloaks fell away to reveal the olive-green tunics of the city watch and the banded armor of the centurions.
The exodus of the crusaders meant the Pantheon was now only guarded by priests and stragglers. The city watch made up the larger force now.
If only they were free to move in.
Tannen's influence over Grimwart had failed, but his hold over the city watch was less tenuous. As long as he possessed the Eye of Orik, they couldn't act.
In the ensuing confusion of shifting threats, I signaled to Saint Peter. He still stood at the gallows wearing a noose, but the rope was slack enough for him to move around. I slipped closer between a few priests and huddled at the edge of the stage.
