As much as Ly didn't want to waste time, she knew better than to go to the headquarters of the Flame in a straight line. The populace of Tinas was anxious enough as it was, and even though the Order wasn't exactly well known around these parts that didn't mean her presence would go unnoticed. Fully equipped Paladins were a rather memorable sight after all, even one as lightly armoured as her. Rather than further antagonise the more rough elements of the city by openly announcing her presence, she shrouded herself in a cloud of distraction. It was a subtle magical trick that was beyond the ability of most Paladins. They weren't recruited on their magical prowess after all. The Order of the Eagle, however, required their members to have a far broader skill set.

She hastily navigated through the maze of narrow streets that littered this part of the city and let her thoughts roam free. Had she made a mistake when she had called in the fanatics of the Flame? Tinas had been ripe for colonisation, really. The Flame would have been an excellent militia force to pacify the city and wipe out the unrulier elements. Sure, they were fanatics, but there were plenty of decent folks with them. The original plan had been for them to enter the city in force, then she'd subtly stoke the fires between them and the underground of the city, steering them towards an open confrontation. The normal folks would hate the Flame for their zealotry and fanaticism, but that would subside quickly once their burning conviction had an outlet. The criminal elements would, despite their home ground advantage, be quickly eradicated when she joined the fray, allowing her to take up an advising role for the Flame and steering them towards a decent middle ground. Merchants would be happy that the crime rate dropped, civilians would be happy that there would be no more violence, the fanatics would be pacified and feel very successful and blessed to be guided by a Paladin, and the Order would have a strong and reliable outpost near the Wilds.

Of course, plans rarely survived contact with reality. She had never gotten the chance to steer them into conflict with the criminal underground, as the Flame had run into a Kobold village on their way to the city, and that had sparked a full out war with the nearby Hold. The fanatics, unable to come to terms with losing a third of their force against the Kobolds, had retreated to the city and imposed martial law, making the civilian populace sympathise with the criminal elements as a thriving black market sprang forth. Not only that, they had also begun aggressively recruiting citizens, and there was something about how that came to be that disturbed her. It wasn't unusual to conscript civilians, but after they came out of the headquarters they had been a bit too zealous for her taste. Either they had one hell of a recruitment manager, or something else was going on.

Then the Orc had shown up. She didn't doubt he was an Orc. She knew his race too well to be fooled by his eloquence. True enough, she had never met an Orc that was actually polite rather than constantly blinded by blood-thirst and rage, but that didn't mean he suddenly stopped being one. A grin crept on her face as she ran through the memories she had copied from his blood. She couldn't see too far in the past with it, she wasn't that skilled in blood magic, but she had very clearly seen him imitate a Paladin of her Order. He'd done a damn decent job of it too, and would likely have gotten away with it if he hadn't bumped into a real one. The real question was why he did it. Sure, avoiding getting impaled by crossbow bolts seemed to be a decent excuse, but that didn't explain the second time he did it. She had noticed that he hadn't feared death, but something else entirely. In that aspect she felt they shared a certain kinship. Death was but a minor issue compared to failing in their task. She grinned again. Kinship, huh. Never thought I'd be associating that with an Orc.

Still, as much as she had enjoyed the evening, night, and especially the following morning, it didn't diminish the very simple fact that his presence was an absolute major pain in her backside. The creature was dangerous. His equipment spoke volumes, the way he perfectly controlled his incredible strength, something she had tested very extensively, his wits... If the populace rallied to him for support, and he gave it to them, the short and harmless little war she had planned would end up wrecking the city entirely. Not only would Tinas be lost as an outpost to the Order that way, but it'd harbour a grudge towards all those who follow the Lord. Him being an unknown factor in the entire game made an already complicated situation worse. A lot worse.

So, she'd have to eliminate that factor. She could try a direct confrontation, but that would end badly. She was quite sure she'd win. She had plenty of tricks up her sleeve and she was far more than just a Paladin. But a direct confrontation against someone who hadn't sinned wasn't her style. Sure, he had killed one bloke with his aura, but her own hands weren't exactly clean either. And by killing that one guy he had kept a fight from breaking out that would have ended badly for all those involved. If she judged him by her own rulebook, he had put down an exemplary performance. Killing people like that didn't sit right with her. Another thing that made the majority of the Order look at those who belonged to those who donned the badge of the Eagle with suspicion. Most Paladins would put anything that didn't believe in the Lord, wasn't a human or a member of an allied race to the sword as soon as it came within striking distance.

Then again, those Paladins didn't leave their home much. Indiscriminate murdering and long distance recon didn't merge well.

So she was stuck with the Orc, for now at least. Luckily enough he seemed to be a reasonable sort, although she wondered how well he would take it when he discovered that the tavern wench he casually bedded was the very Paladin he had pretended to be. That brought a smirk to her face. No doubt that'd be a fun little experience. That was a matter for later, however. First, she had to try to pacify the far too aggressive Patriarch of the Flame. If he was willing to grant her an audience. Bloody bastards were more than a bit sexist and didn't share the Order's ideas that ability was the only requirement, gender be damned. Luckily enough she'd have an ally in that little squirt, Miriander. The boy clearly idolised Paladins and that would give her an opening to at least start negotiations. It was a shame she couldn't fall back on her other identity, however. Despite that the other title she carried tremendously outranked her title as Paladin, it had the minor downside that it was a hidden organisation that very few people knew of. Even within the Order itself.

She made a brief pause in the shadows of a market stall and surveyed her surroundings. Letting the stream of magic to the shroud that hid her fade away, she admired the efficiency that the Flame had shown when setting up camp. Sure, she'd have preferred that they hadn't come in with swords drawn, evicted the entirety of the city council and their clerks, demolish the nearby stands to create open fields of fire and barricade the town hall to the point it resembled a fortress, but at least they had been terribly efficient about the matter. Fanatics and zealots they may be, but they knew their stuff when it came to military matters.

Except that they obviously don't know that it's a bad idea to try and assault Kobolds on their home ground with mere foot soldiers and a handful of mages. Oh well. She double checked her armour and weapons, polished her badge with a piece of cloth for good measure, and stepped out of the shadow.

To their credit, the dozen guards noticed her instantly and the first row lowered their spears instantly. She ignored the weapons pointed at her and approached them calmly, as if they didn't concern her in the slightest.

"Halt!" came the expected call.

"I am Paladin Ly of the Order of the Eagle," she introduced herself. She kept her voice calm and full of authority. "I am here to speak with the Patriarch."

"Sure las, and I be a Bishop. Nice outfit fer a whore, but we den wan' yer type 'ere. Turn about and off with ye. Before I stab ye with me spear."

"She might like that Barrus," came a salacious reply.

"Aye, reckon she might."

She stopped right in front of the spear and folded her arms. "Are you obstructing my path, Barrus?" she asked, feeling her temper rise. These people were part of the problem. Uneducated, rough louts that had no business serving the Lord in the first place.

"Aye las, that I be doin'."

She grinned and darted forward. To Barrus' credit, he wasn't caught entirely off guard and reacted with commendable speed, for an untrained oaf. Yet to her, he might as well have not acted at all. She casually sidestepped his spear and brought the side of her armoured gauntlet against his temple, smashing hard enough to dent his helmet and making him collapse to the ground. Before the other guards could blink she took a second step, twisted, and smashed her elbow with a sickening sound into the face of another guard, shattering his nose. It was so simple. They were so slow. It was a matter of balance. Bring arm forward, return the other. Keep your balance. It was a mantra to her. The others started to react but she kept on her dance. She moved further, retreated her elbow slightly and repeated her earlier trick. The third guard went down, blood pouring from his nose. She shifted her weight and leaned forward and used the momentum from hitting the third guard to ram her palm onto the forehead of the fourth. She grimaced when she heard a crack and felt a pang of sorrow as she knew she had split his skull as well. She hadn't meant to kill him.

She had no time to lament the man's fate, however, as a spear was thrust in her direction. A fatal mistake for a fifth guard as she leaned back and brought her foot up, kicking it aside. As the overeager guard stabbed a colleague in the leg, Ly made use of her agility and turned sideways, delivering a devastating kick to his chestplate. It crumbled under the impact of her heavy boot and the man fell backwards, gasping for breath. She knew he was out with several broken ribs. Finishing her move she turned her head, stretched out her hands and grabbed the man with the wounded leg by the shoulders. She pulled him towards her at the same time her leg returned and she eliminated him as a threat by smashing her knee into him with enough force to shatter bone. His. Not hers.

Barely a moment had passed and half the guards were out, and she hadn't even drawn her weapon. The others reared back, looking towards each other, unwilling to be the first to step forward. She capitalised on that moment.

"Cease!" she barked. They obeyed like beaten dogs. "Get help for your friends. That one is dead, so don't bother with him. And one of you, take me to the Patriarch."They didn't move and she grabbed one by the neck, pulling him towards her. Her green eyes were lit with anger and she hissed at him. "Are you obstructing me again, soldier?"

"N-no Paladin! We'll obey! Forgive us, we—"

She tossed him away. "Stop whining and take me to the Patriach!"

"Yes Paladin! Please, follow me!"

She shook her head and left the carnage behind her. It was a shame, but this little display would stir up further trouble in the city. It was the most efficient way, however. Well, maybe that wasn't the full truth, but she hated it when people challenged her authority when she actually could be bothered to make her identity public. She followed the lone soldier through the halls and was somewhat surprised to find that the carpets and furniture inside hadn't been removed. Given their sober, military style, the Flame usually found these luxuries unnecessary and did away with them post-haste. Their presence was worrying.

They passed several groups of soldiers that milled about, moving in and out of the rooms in the town hall. Every time they encountered one, her guide would shout loudly to make way for a Paladin of the Lord, causing everyone to jump against the walls while saluting her. It was a little guilty pleasure and she knew it, but she couldn't help but thoroughly enjoy it.

It didn't take long before the soldier paused in front of a large set of doors that were covered in masterful carvings, picturing the city in all it's glory with a major focus on wealth. The soldier knocked softly. The voice that responded was everything but soft however.

"WHO DARES DISTURB THE LORD IN HIS QUARTERS!"

"My Lord, I am your humble servant. A Paladin, most holy, has arrived and requested an audience with you, my Lord."

Lord? Uh oh... That did not bode well.

"HOW SPLENDID. I DID NOT THINK THAT WORD OF MY ARRIVAL WOULD SPREAD OUT TO MY LOYAL SERVANTS SO QUICKLY. LET HER ENTER."

"Yes, my Lord." The soldier turned to her. "Please, good Paladin, the Lord is expecting you. Forgive us for not believing you at first, it was an honest mistake. Had we known who—"

She ignored his grovelling and pushed the doors open, revealing an enormous room that was filled to the brim with carefully crafted desks and closets, hand-woven carpets and a whole lot more of that stuck up, snobbish crap. None of that bothered her as much as the man sitting on a throne made of gold. Normally she'd have been up in arms about such a waste of resources, but honestly, she struggled to see anything but the tall, red-haired man that sat atop the damned thing with bright red eyes, even as her heartbeat skyrocketed and her eyes went wide, partially in fear, partially in instinctive adoration.

"GREETINGS, MY LOYAL SUBJECT. HAVE YOU COME TO HONOUR YOUR LORD?" the voice boomed, unpleasantly loud, yet impossible attractive.

The man was the spitting image of a storybook hero, albeit with red hair and eyes. His entire being radiated authority and glowed with unearthly magic. She fought off the urge to kneel in front of him.

She recognised him. Or it, rather. All the blood fled from her face as she turned as pale as snow.

Oh Light preserve me, she thought numbly to herself. This explains everything. A fucking Fauknir. May the Lord have mercy on my soul.