Planning and Preparation (part 2)

It had been several days since the imp had started the search on Vorcet's behalf. Vorcet had not been idle, he had done is own searching in tandem for more people that understood his view on things. Demosthenes had always been a loyal friend and trusted person within both Kossuth's church, and the Crimson Guardians. He was whole heartedly dedicated to whatever purpose life had for him at any given time. A perfect person to help Vorcet with finding others. 

The Imp's reports had brought in several promising bits of information. Vorcet intended to seek those people out and chat with them as well. In the end There needed to be enough people to be able to watch the goings on of the world from all angles, to gather information, and to interpret it appropriately.

The followers of the elemental gods and goddesses made perfect candidates. All of them have a distinct interest in maintaining the balance.  Without it even their element would become a victim of the impending disasters as had already happened. Mystra's followers were also prime targets. One of the earliest teachings a wizard recieves was of the balance involved in the weave and magic itself.

One by one he would gather people and create the network of people needed to keep eyes on things accross the globe. It would take time, but time was something Vorcet had in excess. However his first priority was to find Demosthenes.

Reunion

Vorcet found himself suddenly uncomfortable sitting in the leather chair and started to pull himself upright to stand when Elbryan chuckled, obviously amused at Vorcet's sudden discomfort. "How long have you been using this office in my absence? Ten years by now I would immagine."

"Give or take." Vorcet says guardedly before settling back into the chair.
"I've no intention of reclaiming whats mine old friend." Elbryan said "Besides, I've grown to like the freedom."

"It would have been nice to have your guidance occasionally while I was holding your church together." Vorcet said bitterly.

"Was it such a hardship?" Elbryan asked suddenly serious. "Did you think I would leave you unprepared to lead?  From where I stand you did a  perfectly good job leading until the end of all of the churches.  What would my presence have done other than undermine your authority?"

"Still, I am not you.  You and Atandella were the church." Vorcet replied.  Some of the irritation leaving his voice.

"We were leading the church in a time of war.  War is something I know intimately.  With the Istishian church all but destroyed, Kossuth's followers needed someone a bit less.... violent.  The war was never about destroying the Istishian church entirely.  They would have thrown the elements into turmoil with their plans.  We simply restored that balance."


The two old friends looked at eachother for a while accross the desk. "So in the end it all came down to restoring balance." Vorcet stated

"I see you no longer wear your Insignia from the Guardians."  Elbryan said.

"I learned something with the destruction of the the old churches and organizations." Vorcet said thoughtfully. "We had failed our intended function in the end. We had set our focus on the petty squables of the churches.  And while we were watching that, the insane followers of the Rok plotted and planned. Had we been watching the whole picture we would have seen that the there was balance to the petty bickering of the old churches. It all seemed pointless at times, but its like a forrest fire. It seems such a terrible thing to happen, until you see the new life it creates after the fact."

"It sounds like you have your direction now."
Elbryan says.

"I do." Vorcet responds. "Ive got someone doing some research for me."

Elbryan nods slowly and turns to leave, "Ill be in the area a bit longer should you need anything.  And one last thing, You need to find a better hiding place for your phylactery.  Keeping it around your neck is reckless in the extreme."

A dumbfounded Vorcet watches Elbryan walk out as his hand makes it's way to the gem hanging from a chain on his chest.


"Pretty crafty.... for a corpse." Vorcet whispers to himself.