Rezlar

The young noble isn’t certain how he feels about paperwork. He certainly prefers it to peoplework, but that’s not really saying much. He feels more confident about getting back in the ring with Rocky than he does with talking to people, generally. His acting at being one of his own guards is helping with that a bit, but he’s long come to terms with the fact that he’ll never be the boisterous, outgoing type.

On the other hand, he is feeling less fond of paperwork as of late, probably because there’s been more of it. Requests for funding for the small hold, financial reports for the proposed financial incentives to delve Thedeim more over the winter, so as to help with the problem the Southwood is having, complaints from the mason’s guild about certain members being barred from participating in building Hullbreak's lighthouse…

He has to smile a bit at that particular letter. He had even gotten some catharsis by penning a reply telling the guild that, if they have a method to force any dungeon to allow a member to join, let alone Thedeim, he’d love to hear it. Of course, he tossed that draft into the hearth and wrote a lot of words that come to the same sentiment, just much more diplomatically.

He should see if Rhonda and Freddie would like to go see the lighthouse being built. They still need to do the followup delve in Hullbreak for whatever it was Rhonda needed. Bubble kelp? Bubble weed? He’s pretty sure it’s bubble something, and he’s positive it’ll be on her shoulders for them to get the correct ingredient.

The pleasant thoughts of delving with his friends fade as he looks at the letter he received from the crown. He doubts the king himself wrote it, but he may as well have for all the power Rezlar has to stop it. At least it probably won’t be too much trouble, it’s just a basic audit. In hindsight, he probably should have expected something like this. Tax revenue this year was up sharply, thanks to Thedeim. That kind of change in money is going to draw attention, even if everything is fully legitimate.

Which, as far as Rezlar can tell, everything is. Oh, he’s sure there’s some minor embezzlement and other financial wrongdoing going on, but whatever people may be doing it, they’re keeping it subtle enough for him to not need to worry. He wouldn’t even put it past Miller to have, if not a hand in most of it, to at least be keeping an eye on it. Much as it irks his sensibilities, that kind of thing simply can’t be fully snuffed out, so it’s better to keep it manageable and not let it get obvious enough for a real audit to be called.

Still, he should probably put into his schedule some time to check the books himself. He can’t rely on Miller to do all the work, and being able to spot accounting oddities is one of his duties as Lord Mayor.

But he should have plenty of time. If it’s secretly a deep audit, it’ll look better for him if they don’t show up in a week with him tearing through his ledgers. No, he’ll take a look in a few weeks, probably after the Hullbreak delve. Any potential spies can see he’s not worried, and he’s more than happy to waste the time of imagined onlookers.

For the rest of today… he actually would like to visit the Church of the Shield. He’d like to hear their opinion of Thedeim and the fact he has worshipers, and what Rezlar should actually do about that. Not that he intends to interfere, but that he doesn’t want to accidentally upset someone like Thedeim, even as a dungeon, let alone as a potential deity.

He misses when he could stay out of theology altogether, but at least getting involved with Thedeim earned him his two most dear friends. He can step out of his comfort zone to ensure he doesn’t somehow make a mistake that turns Thedeim against them, let alone the town as a whole.

It seems pretty unlikely, but he’d rather know too much than not enough. He had sent out a message early in the morning, asking if he could have some of High Priest Torlon’s time, and received a reply not long ago that he would be more than happy to receive Rezlar after lunch, or even during, should he desire.

He’d prefer the informality of a meeting after lunch, and so sent the reply. A luncheon is always so weighed down by etiquette and formality. A lunch between friends is one thing, but he doesn’t think he quite knows the kindly priest well enough for an informal meal.

“Is the young master ready to go?” asks Miller as he enters the room, tidying and organizing the mess that it tends to get into when Rezlar is attending to the duties of his position.

“I think so, Miller. Is my horse ready?” If he were just going as Larrez, he’d just walk, but nobles are expected to walk as little as possible. He remembers asking Miller about it when he was much younger, and getting a smirk with the reply that, should a noble be in the rough position of not having a cushion upon which to rest their rear end, one should have enough padding to make do. The memory still brings a smile to his face.

“Of course, sir. White Waves is freshly brushed and awaiting you.”

“Thank you, Miller,” replies the young noble with a smile, looking forward to riding White Waves. He gets so little chance to take him out for a ride. His gait is incredibly smooth, better than any other horse he’s had, hence the name. Riding him, at a walk or at a gallop, is like riding gentle ocean waves.

“Why don’t you have a horse?” he asks, realizing he’s never seen his butler in a saddle. He thinks he’s actually surprised the older elf, as it takes him a few moments longer than usual to respond.

“Horses and I… only ever get along professionally, at best, young master. They’ll obey me when I drive the carriage, or when I put them up or wipe them down, but they have never accepted carrying me. And, to be frank young master, I prefer my own two feet to their four,” he soon answers, smirking at the end.

“Ah, that’s interesting. Though that does make me wonder how you always get somewhere before me when I’m riding.”

The butler gives a small smile to his charge. “That’s a professional secret I’m afraid, young master, only known to the most secretive ranks of the butling elite.” Rezlar still isn’t certain if Miller is joking when he talks like that, but at this point, he doesn’t want to know either way. He wouldn’t want the joke to die, nor would he like to dwell on the implications of the ‘butling elite’.

He has enough vaguely-powerful things to try to understand, which is what this whole meeting is for anyway. It doesn’t take him long to ride to the church, and the handlers there easily accept White Waves with no trouble. Before long at all, he enters the priest’s personal rooms, finding the gnome relaxing in a plush chair with a book. He marks his place and smiles at Rezlar once he enters.

“Ah, Lord Mayor! To what do I owe the pleasure? I admit I was surprised to receive your request with my breakfast. Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink?”

Rezlar takes a seat on the wide couch and politely shakes his head. “No, but thank you. And please, just Rezlar. I wanted to ask about… well, a lot of things, actually.”

Torlon smiles and takes his seat once more. “I take it you’re not about to ask to take the initiate oaths?” he asks with a smirk, and Rezlar shakes his head.

“Uh… no. I mean, I appreciate what you and the church do, it’s just…”

Torlon laughs and waves a hand. “I know, I know, it’s just not for you. Honestly, it’s not for most people, and a good priest needs to understand that. But I think your actual questions are along a similar vein?”

Rezlar sighs and nods. “I usually try to stay beneath the attention of any gods, but… did you know Thedeim is one?”

“Ah,” says Torlon, like that question explains everything. “Well… you’ve stumbled into a question all clergy have to eventually wrestle with: what is a god? It’s one of the few questions the gods never even acknowledge, let alone answer.”

Rezlar furrows his brow at that. “What? But…” Torlon’s laugh interrupts him again.

“Nobody knows why they don’t answer it, either. Some gods are more than happy to answer various questions, but they all ignore that particular one, which only raises more questions. Personally, I believe it has something to do with how faith magic works.”

Rezlar looks lost, but stays quiet to let the priest continue.

“Most people think it must work like arcane magic, or even like martial magic, but just like those two are different, so is faith. Arcane magic is about understanding the world and how it works, and how your affinity works in the world. From what I can tell of martial magic, it’s about understanding yourself and exemplifying your affinity in yourself. Faith magic is…”

He trails off for a moment, looking for the proper words, or maybe to see if Rezlar is following. The elf noble is leaned forward on the couch now, listening to every word, and Torlon smiles as he continues.

“Faith magic is more about accepting and striving for an ideal. Not everyone finds their ideal in a god. Even here in the church, it could be more accurate to say some people’s faith is more in a concept than the Shield. But gods are the most common ideal of faith, because they encompass so many domains. That the Shield is protection is no surprise, and many paladins of the Shield may be placing their faith more in that than in the Shield itself.”

Rezlar is back to looking confused at that, and Torlon laughs again. “It sounds a bit heretical, doesn’t it? But I think that the Shield provides guidance not just in how to protect, but why to protect, and placing one’s faith in a specific aspect of the Shield doesn’t lessen anyone involved. Which brings us back to your question about Thedeim.

“I don’t think he’s actually a god, though as a focus of faith, the difference is a bit academic. I think he’s handling it rather well, especially with how he seems to be trying his best to handle it as little as possible, heh.”

“What?” escapes Rezlar’s lips before he can stop it. He’s handling it by not handling it at all? How does that make any sense!?

Torlon just smirks. “What would you do if it were you?”

“What?” says Rezlar again, confused to have a question aimed at himself.

“What if you were suddenly the focus of someone’s faith? If someone believed so utterly in what you do that their magic is focused by it.” He laughs again as the elf blanches.

“You can’t even tell them to stop it! Someone with that kind of faith in you, they’d think they had done something wrong!” he continues. “So now you have quite a lot of control over someone’s actions, and I think as a noble, you might understand the weight of that responsibility better than most, and the temptations of abusing that responsibility.”

Rezlar slowly nods, and Torlon nods as well. “Yes, something like that can cause a lot of trouble. Dark cults and more happen when someone misuses that kind of trust and faith. But I’ve talked with both Aranya and Larx, and Thedeim has set really only one rule, and I think he could have done a lot worse.”

“What rule?”

“To love. To care, honestly and deeply, about the well-being of others.” Torlon chuckles and shakes his head. “A simple command… and yet not a simple command at all, really.”