Velentham already hated Toril. The people were dour and rude, openly staring at him with worry, alarm, and disdain. The colors here were all muted compared to his planar home... a home he would never see again. Perhaps in time he would find someone to teach him how to traverse the planes - but the only being he knew that was truly adept was dead. There was nothing more he could do about it now. Without Gilean to show him the ropes, Velentham was irritable and alone. Utterly alone.
"Is there an inn," he asked a passing man - but before he could even finish his sentence, the man threw him an obscene gesture and hurriedly walked away. He walked to the center of the square and sat with great frustration at the edge of a fountain, his face pinched with rage.
He hadn't been sitting for long before the sound of a deep, gruff male voice sounded out through the square. "That's him!"
Velentham looked up to see a group of guards in deep purple armor making their way toward him. They were joined by others, a group of at least twelve, and Velentham stood up. "You!" The lead guard called out. "Esper!"
"Me?" Velentham asked, pointing to himself.
"Yes, you, asshole. Get over here. You're not going to start any trouble here!"
Trouble? Velentham shook his head, his brow furrowed. "Trouble? I haven't come to cause anything."
"SILENCE ESPER!"
"Esper? What in the hells are you talking about?"
"We have it on good authority that you are here to start trouble and personally, I'd rather see all of you espers powering a cannon engine but I have to take you into custody first."
"Custody?"
"He's not the brightest one, is he?" asked one of the other guards.
Velentham gritted his teeth and pulled out his swords. "If you want me, you're going to have to take me out first."
"With pleasure," the lead guard said, pulling out his sword as the square cleared of people.
Desperate Measures (1-2)
Gilean materialized amid swirl of gold dust just outside the eastern gate of Westbridge. He quickly spotted a Vectorian guard near the gate and strode over to him.
'Guard...'
The Vectorian turned to face Gilean with obvious annoyance. 'What do you want?'
'I have some information you should know.'
The guard frowned with displeasure. 'This better not be about those assholes from the west gate. I don't have anything to do with them and what they do to you people.'
Gilean sighed with frustration but he was begininning to have second thoughts about his plan. 'No... it's not that... I heard that...' Gilean faltered for a moment.
'Yes?' The guard scowled upon Gilean with waning patience.
Gilean saw the arrogant impatience of the Vectorian and the face of Velentham flashed into his mind. As Gilean stood, hesitating, the celestial was already seeking out Sanria. Soon his cousin would be passing through here on the way to her house on his way to smash whatever peace the woman had found. Something had to be done. These Vectorians could do what Gilean could not. Detain him, prevent him from reaching Sanria.
'I heard that there is a powerful esper coming through town. He plans on making some kind of trouble.'
The guard grew immediately serious, 'Esper? Here?'
'Yes,' Gilean continued, 'he'll be coming from New Thalos.'
'Always the idiots. We'll have him killed and fueling a light before he gets within a thousand paces of this city. What does he look like?'
Gilean's stomach turned to ice as he began to realize his foolishness. 'Killed?'
'You must mean detained... questioned?'
'We don't worry about that. You like your lights on, don't you?' the guard stated matter of factly as he pulled out a communications crystal from his pocket. 'Now, what's he look like?'
Gilean felt sick. Maybe he had been away too long, seen too much in the Hells, but he should have known better. The Vectorians didn't simply detain rebellious espers. This wasn't what he wanted. He had made a terrible mistake. Gilean tried to turn away but the guard grabbed him by the shoulder.
'You provide the information like a good citizen and we won't have problems. If you protect this troublemaking esper, you'll be thrown in jail. Understand?'
Gilean was disgusted... with the Vectorian and with himself. He brushed the guard's hand from his shoulder and began backing away. Gilean tried taunting the guard, trying to cover things up as a joke but the guard was having none of it. The Vectorian was already on his communication crystal notifying his fellows of the impending attack of this 'large esper' and to 'shoot to kill'.
The guard made a rush for the retreating Gilean and with a word the priest relocated himself away. Just before he disappeared he had a final thought: How in the name of Lathander was he going to fix this.
'Guard...'
The Vectorian turned to face Gilean with obvious annoyance. 'What do you want?'
'I have some information you should know.'
The guard frowned with displeasure. 'This better not be about those assholes from the west gate. I don't have anything to do with them and what they do to you people.'
Gilean sighed with frustration but he was begininning to have second thoughts about his plan. 'No... it's not that... I heard that...' Gilean faltered for a moment.
'Yes?' The guard scowled upon Gilean with waning patience.
Gilean saw the arrogant impatience of the Vectorian and the face of Velentham flashed into his mind. As Gilean stood, hesitating, the celestial was already seeking out Sanria. Soon his cousin would be passing through here on the way to her house on his way to smash whatever peace the woman had found. Something had to be done. These Vectorians could do what Gilean could not. Detain him, prevent him from reaching Sanria.
'I heard that there is a powerful esper coming through town. He plans on making some kind of trouble.'
The guard grew immediately serious, 'Esper? Here?'
'Yes,' Gilean continued, 'he'll be coming from New Thalos.'
'Always the idiots. We'll have him killed and fueling a light before he gets within a thousand paces of this city. What does he look like?'
Gilean's stomach turned to ice as he began to realize his foolishness. 'Killed?'
'You must mean detained... questioned?'
'We don't worry about that. You like your lights on, don't you?' the guard stated matter of factly as he pulled out a communications crystal from his pocket. 'Now, what's he look like?'
Gilean felt sick. Maybe he had been away too long, seen too much in the Hells, but he should have known better. The Vectorians didn't simply detain rebellious espers. This wasn't what he wanted. He had made a terrible mistake. Gilean tried to turn away but the guard grabbed him by the shoulder.
'You provide the information like a good citizen and we won't have problems. If you protect this troublemaking esper, you'll be thrown in jail. Understand?'
Gilean was disgusted... with the Vectorian and with himself. He brushed the guard's hand from his shoulder and began backing away. Gilean tried taunting the guard, trying to cover things up as a joke but the guard was having none of it. The Vectorian was already on his communication crystal notifying his fellows of the impending attack of this 'large esper' and to 'shoot to kill'.
The guard made a rush for the retreating Gilean and with a word the priest relocated himself away. Just before he disappeared he had a final thought: How in the name of Lathander was he going to fix this.
Responsibility
Gilean stood in New Thalos, arguing vehemently with his celestial cousin. No matter what Gilean said Velentham still insisted on persuing Sanria. And what was worse, he was even talking about restoring her memories. The same experiences that had driven the woman to suicide.
Gilean pleaded angrily 'Last I saw her she was happy. You would take that from her just to see if it will be different with you?'
'I know it will be. I don't have to wonder.' Velentham responded unquestionably.
The arrogance of his cousin was unbelievable. 'Veltntham, people are not toys! They are not your playthings!'
Apparently Velentham had heard enough. He stood up straighter, his eyes darkening. 'We're done.' Velentham turned and strode away with clenched fists, leaving Gilean there alone.
Gilean was practically furious as he watched Velentham walk away from him. It seemed as if all the animocity he had ever felt toward his people was embodied in that single receeding figure. The arrogance, the haughtiness, the closed-mindedness, the rush to judgement, all condensed into a single individual that just had to be his cousin.
What was worse, Velentham's father, Gilean's uncle, had just sacrificed himself to see them though on their journey so Gilean was the only family that jackass had left. That, coupled with the fact that Sanria was only alive, albeit minus her memories, because of Gilean's actions gave the priest an almost oppressive sense of responsibility in this situation.
Gilean had to do something but Velentham just wouldn't listen. Gilean had to stop him... or at least slow him down before he could locate Sanria and potentially destroy the poor woman's life. An idea popped into Gilean's head and, blinded by frustration and desperation, he grasped it.
With a word, Gilean disappeared in a swirl of gold.
Gilean pleaded angrily 'Last I saw her she was happy. You would take that from her just to see if it will be different with you?'
'I know it will be. I don't have to wonder.' Velentham responded unquestionably.
The arrogance of his cousin was unbelievable. 'Veltntham, people are not toys! They are not your playthings!'
Apparently Velentham had heard enough. He stood up straighter, his eyes darkening. 'We're done.' Velentham turned and strode away with clenched fists, leaving Gilean there alone.
Gilean was practically furious as he watched Velentham walk away from him. It seemed as if all the animocity he had ever felt toward his people was embodied in that single receeding figure. The arrogance, the haughtiness, the closed-mindedness, the rush to judgement, all condensed into a single individual that just had to be his cousin.
What was worse, Velentham's father, Gilean's uncle, had just sacrificed himself to see them though on their journey so Gilean was the only family that jackass had left. That, coupled with the fact that Sanria was only alive, albeit minus her memories, because of Gilean's actions gave the priest an almost oppressive sense of responsibility in this situation.
Gilean had to do something but Velentham just wouldn't listen. Gilean had to stop him... or at least slow him down before he could locate Sanria and potentially destroy the poor woman's life. An idea popped into Gilean's head and, blinded by frustration and desperation, he grasped it.
With a word, Gilean disappeared in a swirl of gold.
New Thalos
Velentham walked from the shop, his arrogance at its full. He found joy in bringing a measure of misery to Gilean - it made up a fraction of the profound pain that filled him. "Do you think she'll like it?" he asked after joining Gilean. "The hat, I mean."
"Don't Velentham... just don't," Gilean replied, carefully counting the doors that ran along the side of the road between the houses.
"I've nothing to lose now."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
"I can't go home, Gilean. In fact, you are taking me to my new home as well. I have to make a life for myself... and I will." Velentham took time to note the frustration on Gilean's face. "We'd better go. Before it changes."
With no further words, the men stepped through the door and onto a long pier that stretched out toward a vast sea. A grin crossed the Celestial's features. "So are we here?"
"Yes... we are," Gilean replied, clapping Velentham's shoulder.
"We should get cleaned up, first."
"First?"
"First impressions. Well... second."
"Yes, I suppose you can come to my home... although I didn't expect my reunion with Claire to have you there. I will find you a place to stay though. Don't worry."
"Then will you show me where Sanria is?"
"Velentham... you can't be serious."
The statement infuriated Velentham inwardly. "I'm lost. Why did you think I went through hell?" Gilean stared at him for a long moment.
"I will see Claire, then I will take you somewhere you can stay. We can discuss the rest after."
"I came to be with her, Gilean. My father didn't die because of me. He died to buy your silence and get you back home. So if you have something to say, by all means. Say it."
"Velentham... let this go. I know you can be better than this."
"Now who is the one who can't be serious?" Velentham turned and began to walk into the city of New Thalos. "I'll find her myself. I won't stop until I do. I'll plant her image in every mind in the realms. I'll have everyone looking for her, all with a touch."
The men argued mercilessly. Velentham did not know what would happen once he met with Sanria again, but he would not let Gilean stop him from discovering it. There was no way that after crossing through hell, losing his father, and being stuck with Gilean through it all that he was going to let the priest change his mind. Before he brought himself to raining blows upon Gilean, Velentham turned away. "We're done." Without another word, he stalked off into the city, drawing every eye to him in his wake.
"Don't Velentham... just don't," Gilean replied, carefully counting the doors that ran along the side of the road between the houses.
"I've nothing to lose now."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
"I can't go home, Gilean. In fact, you are taking me to my new home as well. I have to make a life for myself... and I will." Velentham took time to note the frustration on Gilean's face. "We'd better go. Before it changes."
With no further words, the men stepped through the door and onto a long pier that stretched out toward a vast sea. A grin crossed the Celestial's features. "So are we here?"
"Yes... we are," Gilean replied, clapping Velentham's shoulder.
"We should get cleaned up, first."
"First?"
"First impressions. Well... second."
"Yes, I suppose you can come to my home... although I didn't expect my reunion with Claire to have you there. I will find you a place to stay though. Don't worry."
"Then will you show me where Sanria is?"
"Velentham... you can't be serious."
The statement infuriated Velentham inwardly. "I'm lost. Why did you think I went through hell?" Gilean stared at him for a long moment.
"I will see Claire, then I will take you somewhere you can stay. We can discuss the rest after."
"I came to be with her, Gilean. My father didn't die because of me. He died to buy your silence and get you back home. So if you have something to say, by all means. Say it."
"Velentham... let this go. I know you can be better than this."
"Now who is the one who can't be serious?" Velentham turned and began to walk into the city of New Thalos. "I'll find her myself. I won't stop until I do. I'll plant her image in every mind in the realms. I'll have everyone looking for her, all with a touch."
The men argued mercilessly. Velentham did not know what would happen once he met with Sanria again, but he would not let Gilean stop him from discovering it. There was no way that after crossing through hell, losing his father, and being stuck with Gilean through it all that he was going to let the priest change his mind. Before he brought himself to raining blows upon Gilean, Velentham turned away. "We're done." Without another word, he stalked off into the city, drawing every eye to him in his wake.
Excuse Me...
All about them, businessmen and women bustled about dressed in finery and appearing to be in a very massive hurry. Houses, tall and stately as the obvious owners, lined one side of the road, while shops sat on the other. Velentham smirked inwardly as Gilean craned his neck, looking around for any sign of familiarity. "Where are we now?" he asked.
"Since you're so into guiding me why don't you ask them for help."
"Excuse me..." Gilean began, stopping a portly businessman. "What is this place?"
"Here now, are you speaking to me?"
"Yes, I'm sorry to bother you. I'm new here and a bit lost."
"Perhaps a map would better suit you. To not know where you are. The audacity!"
Velentham couldn't hide the smile on his face as Gilean failed not once, but twice. It was petty, it was trite, but he was doing what was familiar, for the pain of his father's passing was already too much to dwell upon. It was several moments before Velentham followed Gilean into a haberdashery and set to amusing himself trying on hats. "Well now! Two gentlemen! What may I do for you? Measurements? I've the finest in felts in just this day."
"Well, you do have some fine products here. I was hoping you could help me with something though. My friend and I have just arrived and are a bit lost. What is this place?"
"Why, my fine fellow, you are in a haberdashery. I can create the finest in hats, simply ask. I can make just about anything to suit your cranium."
"Oh, no," Gilean continued as Velentham snickered under his breath. "I mean, this city. Where are we?"
"Sigil? How could you not know? Clerks Ward, to be precise. We have some shops but are more full of politicians. Non-trustable lot, but they spend a lot of coin."
Velentham picked up a hat with a strikingly long pheasant feather in the brim. He walked over to the mirror, sneaking glances at Gilean and the shop keep as he posed. "Sigil..." Gilean continued. "I'm looking to get back home, to my beautiful lady and unborn child. Near Westbridge... on Toril. Do you know where that is from here?"
"Will you be buying a hat this fine day?"
"Perhaps I could consider taking a present home for her," Gilean said with not too much distaste in his voice.
"Torhill you say. Well now, is that in one of the many planes? Demiplanes?"
"It is the material plane."
Velentham turned to face the shopkeep with a debonair smile on his face. "That looks very fetching on you, if I do say so myself. The ladies might really like that look."
"Do you think so?" Velentham asked. "What do you think, cousin?"
"Wonderful," Gilean replied flatly.
"I'll take it, then. Where would this portal be to the material plane?"
"There is a portal not five doors down. Of course, take care that you count them, the doors shift constantly and you could end up elsewhere."
"I am eternally grateful," Velentham replied as Gilean left the shop.
"I thought he was going to purchase a gift for his wife?"
"Politician," Velentham grinned.
"Since you're so into guiding me why don't you ask them for help."
"Excuse me..." Gilean began, stopping a portly businessman. "What is this place?"
"Here now, are you speaking to me?"
"Yes, I'm sorry to bother you. I'm new here and a bit lost."
"Perhaps a map would better suit you. To not know where you are. The audacity!"
Velentham couldn't hide the smile on his face as Gilean failed not once, but twice. It was petty, it was trite, but he was doing what was familiar, for the pain of his father's passing was already too much to dwell upon. It was several moments before Velentham followed Gilean into a haberdashery and set to amusing himself trying on hats. "Well now! Two gentlemen! What may I do for you? Measurements? I've the finest in felts in just this day."
"Well, you do have some fine products here. I was hoping you could help me with something though. My friend and I have just arrived and are a bit lost. What is this place?"
"Why, my fine fellow, you are in a haberdashery. I can create the finest in hats, simply ask. I can make just about anything to suit your cranium."
"Oh, no," Gilean continued as Velentham snickered under his breath. "I mean, this city. Where are we?"
"Sigil? How could you not know? Clerks Ward, to be precise. We have some shops but are more full of politicians. Non-trustable lot, but they spend a lot of coin."
Velentham picked up a hat with a strikingly long pheasant feather in the brim. He walked over to the mirror, sneaking glances at Gilean and the shop keep as he posed. "Sigil..." Gilean continued. "I'm looking to get back home, to my beautiful lady and unborn child. Near Westbridge... on Toril. Do you know where that is from here?"
"Will you be buying a hat this fine day?"
"Perhaps I could consider taking a present home for her," Gilean said with not too much distaste in his voice.
"Torhill you say. Well now, is that in one of the many planes? Demiplanes?"
"It is the material plane."
Velentham turned to face the shopkeep with a debonair smile on his face. "That looks very fetching on you, if I do say so myself. The ladies might really like that look."
"Do you think so?" Velentham asked. "What do you think, cousin?"
"Wonderful," Gilean replied flatly.
"I'll take it, then. Where would this portal be to the material plane?"
"There is a portal not five doors down. Of course, take care that you count them, the doors shift constantly and you could end up elsewhere."
"I am eternally grateful," Velentham replied as Gilean left the shop.
"I thought he was going to purchase a gift for his wife?"
"Politician," Velentham grinned.
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