The Lyon's Roar - the journal of Aaron Lyonaler

[sweetlikesplenda]

Deep snow covered the land as the soldiers of the Amnian forces marched towards fate. Strong winds picked up flakes and swirled them about the bodies of those trying to ignore the freeze. Their focus upon the upcoming fight. Their focus upon seeing this conflict ended. At the head of one battalion, riding upon Rook, his Elven bred steed, was the Grand Knight of the Baldurian Chapter of the Order of the Radiant Heart, Lord Lyonaler. his typical stoic nature hid a worry, a fear for the lives of those he now lead.

The Knight directed the twenty five soldiers sent from the Branch in Athkatla that had been placed under his command by the Prelates of the Order. These Knights, men and women he had never met before this last week, would look to him for their orders, they would look to him to bring them through this conflict. The Grand Knight always took the lives of those under his command with the utmost respect. Any loss was a great blow to him.

As the soldiers of the of the army of the Northern group arrived upon the battlefield, the troops broke off in to their battalions, their leaders taking point before the assembled troops. the Radiant heart battalion was placed upon the western flank of the army. Once lined up in their ranks, they looked to Aaron, who himself, looked to Wai Li for the command to begin.



Calls went out and the other battalion began to move. Most soldiers moved east bound, in a direct march towards the Temple. The Radiant Heart forces trudged through heavy snow fall as well as thick snow upon the ground. the Grand Knight cast upon his troops all the protections to Cold he could muster. While they marched on, the Knight continued to call upon protections, beseeching The Red Knight for Aid upon his troops to bolster them in combat.The sounds of blizzards blocked the noise, while the fall of snow hindered the sight of what was to come, as the Knights moved around the rocky obstacles to cover the western flank. It was not until it was upon them, that the sight of the Undead Ice Dragon flew down upon them.

With a crash of wings it passed overhead, its maw opened wide as it unleashed it's freezing breath upon the battalion. Before any action could be taken against it, it continued it's flight past. Aaron summoned forth a Mass Healing spell to both heal his Knights, as well as send positive energies to harm the Undead beast, bit it moved quickly and was too far away to be harmed by the prayer of positive energies. The sounds of nearby battalion could be heard, as the Dragon continued it's flight about the field of battle, raining it's breath down. Through the screams of others, he could not help but be grateful that no Knights under his command has perished. After the flyby, two injured Knights aided two other injured in the Dragon's Breath back to the rear of the army to receive care for their injuries.



The forces of Continued to press forward towards the temple. The Aurilites had only fielded the Undead dragon along with it's undead minions, as well as other fauna of the mountain region that the Northern army battalions met. Their main force was being held close to the temple. The narrow passages forced the Amnians to bottleneck through a corridor. With little room to press on, the Radiant Heart battalion was slowed. Being too far back to utilise his prayers or his sword arm, as well as hearing word of an arcanist who was striking the forward battalions with magic, The Grand Knight, along with Sir Nathaniel, broke ranks, leaving Captain Grath in charge of the battalion, and moved forward to join the forward battalion.

Troops of Frost Giants held the Amnian soldiers at bay, while magic rained upon them from the craggy rock faces. Aaron and Nathaniel joined the forward unit to help engage the Giants. Swords clashed with giant axes. Soldiers screamed and fell among the snow. Surviving soldiers stepped over the bodies of fallen giants. The Grand Knight summoned forth all the positive energy prayers he could to keep the soldiers with him alive and in the fight. the strain exhausting him, but his sword continues to slash forth and fell the enemy Giants, Ice Elementals, and Orglash. Among the chaos of the close quarters fighting, he called out instructions among the battle in an attempt to keep the forces moving and uplifted.

After the fall of the last of one of the battalion of Giants, the Knight might be seen pausing. His head tilts softly as if listening among the other sounds of battle. He takes his helmet off briefly, still listening. Turing in place he looks about the carnage around him. The sounds of the cries of battle dimmed in his ears for a moment.

Aaron feels a warmness to his body in the frigid cold. He can faintly hear the sounds of a galloping horse. He gets the sense that the Red Knight is proud of him.

His body seemed to have a glow within. He felt once more the familiar feeling of his Goddess. Her gentle touch to show her support. The sound lasted a moment, but in that moment it felt a lifetime. Then, slowly, the sounds of the battle returned. The Knight set his helmet back upon his head. Tightening his grip upon his sword. He swung his Holy Avenger 'Knight's Gambit" at an advancing Frost Giant, severing it's leg just above the knee. With a flash, his sword glided through the snow filled air. The head of the Giant sank into the snow where it lay. The Knight seemed possessed to see this though. To be worthy of the approval of the Red Lady.



With steady movement forward, the front lines continued to march towards the temple. Giants and Elementals continued to line the path blocking heir advance. Though, they fell to Amnian force's blades, many of the army's soldiers fell along the way. Aaron's prayers had helped to keep many alive, but not all could be saved. The injured Aurilte forces had begun to make way into the temple proper to flee the advances of the army. But, it was at the foot of the temple that the last of the defenders made their last stand.

Once they had fallen, siege equipment rolled along and towards the temple, setting up within distance to begin a barrage. As the projectiles began to strike the temple, a shout was heard that the High Priestess had been slain. A moment after, a great shake was felt by any on the mountain. Any who looked up would see a sheet of snow, beginning at the highest reaches and making it's way down at break-neck speeds. Wai Li was nearby and to his ear, barely audible over the sound of the snow crashing down towards the troops, called out to Helm for protection. The Ice Queen's influence here was strong, and not all were covered by the gold light of Helm's protection.Aaron realised that he was not among his own troops, having moved forward, and now could only do what he could to save those near him.



As the snow and debris rushed forward to consume those upon the mountain, Aaron quickly took the red colored Knight Chess piece that hangs from his neck into his hand. A bright light filled his eyes as the last word of the prayer passed his lips. This light moved down his body and into his arm, streaming out of his extended hands. As the light left him, a shimmer passed over himself and the bodies of the soldiers near to him. Suddenly, the soldiers effected by the prayer, felt as if they were still upon the Prime Plane, though blurred. To the eyes of those not effected, it was if they had disappeared, as the effected enter the Ethereal Plane.

Once cleared of the effects of the avalanche, the Grand Knight dispersed his prayer, returning those with him to the Prime Plane proper. The destruction was great, and the loss of life immense in the aftermath of the avalanche. Trudging through the snow tossed lands, Aaron made his way from in front of the now destroyed temple, back to the rear camp. There he met with the remains of his battalion. The report came that ten of the twenty five Knights would not return with their brothers and sisters. Ten Knights would never continue the fight against evil. Their bodies buried under tons of snow upon the mountain.



With the conclusion of the battle, Aaron would not immediately return to Baldur's Gate. The weight of the loss of the Knights placed under his command was a heavy burden on his shoulders. The ten fallen would be honored in Athkatla for the heroes they are. Diverting to Athkatla, he accompanied the surviving Knights back to the High Halls in Athkatla. There, the Aaron gave report to Prelate Wessalen on the pride he had to lead such fine men and women. He reported back on the honors owed to those who fell in the conflict.

The following day the Knight could be seen riding his silver maned steed northbound.

[sweetlikesplenda]

Shortly after the war in Nashkel had ended, I was approached by Alexander Marshall. The Triadic Knight had offered an invite to join in an effort to aid a missing Illmateri Paladin. The Paladin had been escorting a child north from Amn. But, contact had been lost and there was fear the Knight and their child ward were in trouble. Amn's views of those who practice or even have signs of developing use of the "Art" was oppressive. Their Mage Hunters, Bounty Hunters and mercenaries hired by the Amnian Government, were ruthless in their pursuit of any who shows signs of the use of magic.

I accepted and we travelled to meet the others who would also attend the journey. The meeting outside the Stables revealed Sister Ashenie, Sir Asen, Sir Declan, Sir Gaven, Sir Marshall and myself would be companions on this trek. *Putting the ink pen down a moment, the Knight digs into his bags. Later producing a palm sized Knight Chess piece. His thoughts drift back to the events of the journey to recover the missing child...*

Sir Declan and Aaron had been searching houses for the fallen villagers. The rubble of the burnt out buildings of the village made it difficult to recover some of the bodies of the lost villagers. It was while lifting out a corpse of a villager who had been slain in the attack on the little hamlet, that he noticed it. A glint in the smokey air. Something red. A mental note to return to investigate the anomaly once the recovered body was placed for the ritual Sister Ashenie would perform. Carefully the Grand Knight entered the building again. Picking his way through collapsed walls, the collapsed roof, and weak support beams that still stood, he reached the area where the red glint had caught his eye. Perhaps it was a piece of sentimental jewellery of one of the villagers. Perhaps it was something that the soon-to-be restored villager would find comfort in having, after losing so much in the destruction of the village.

The roof was unsteady, the creaking noises it made lent one to believe it could fall completely at any moment. The situation required swift action to get in and then back out. Aaron carefully placed his steps though the rubble to ensure he did not set off any chain reactions that could endanger himself or Declan. Soon he reached the spot he had seen. The red glint was still there, partially obscured among the wreckage. Reaching out, he extended his arm at full length, manoeuvring through burnt wooden beams he pressed his body forwarded to extend his reach. Fingertips at first just gaining some hold on the object, inched it closer, until he could take it in to his palm. As he retracted his hand, a support beam fell upon the place the red object had been, nearly taking with it, his arm. The two Knights exited the building, and Aaron opened his palm to look down upon a red gem cut in to the shape of a Knight Chess piece.

Days before, during the war of Amn against the Temple of Auril, The Red Knight had given him a sign. He had heard the call of his Lady, felt her approval given to him. An elated feeling, one that a Favored relished above all else, had coursed through him during the battle. Now, a few days after, a physical sign. The Lady of Strategy had a small following, but those who did were given signs. A chess piece left for a follower, carved of a brittle material, was a poor sign. One left of a quality material was an approving gesture. In the past he had been left signs that helped lead him on quests he had undertaken. In this case, the Chess piece was carved from Ruby Stone. A feeling of joy, and exuberant elation of the Lady of Strategy's approval washed over him...

Time passed slowly for the Knight until their eventual return back to the City. the Knight frequently taking the piece out and looking it over in his palm , until they entered the City limits once more.

[sweetlikesplenda]

The ceremony outside the Temple of the Watcher was dying down. The celebrants of the event were moving on to other parts of the town. Th noise of those singing and merrymaking were moving down the main road towards the bars. Four Knights entered the Temple proper for a quiet meeting with the High Shield Pergin and the High Watchpriest Jaumet Ubina. The tone inside was much more sober then outside. The quiet reflected the ceremony of what was to come. Each present was gifted something that represented contributions towards ending the war with the Aurilites. The first called forward was Aaron. The High Shield turned behind to collect soemthing. When they returned to face the group, a cloth cloak was draped gingerly over their arms, which extended towards the Grand Knight in offering.



"Lord Lyonaler, a relic was retrieved from the ruins of the Temple of Auril. An artifact we feel there are no better hands it should go to."

The Knight's ocean blues looked down at a red and white colored cloak in the hands of the High Shield. Gently it is offered over to Aaron. A feeling of ease came over him as he reached out slowly with his right hand, fingers just grazing the cloth. A tingle struck the tips of his fingers, which turned to a spark in his core.



Quietly at first, the words began to come back to him. "This is.. It has the feel of the Red Lady... Such a relic.." *He looks back to the High Shield* "Are you certain you wish to gift this?"

"You are a faithful of the Lady of Strategy, are you not?"

*Nodding a few times, his eyes still on the cloak* "I am, yes."

"Certainly, it would be more suited in your hands than in the House of the Guardian. Not that we do not see the value of strategy, but a relic ought go to the faithful of its god."

A moment later Aaron regained his presence of mind to fully take the cloak into his hands and accept the great gift being offered. In the past he had received visits from the Red Lady, been given signs and small gifts, had communed and spoken with her for guidance; now, he would hold a relic blessed by her hand. The cloak would be cared for and upheld as the honor it was to have it.

[sweetlikesplenda]

Without death there is no life, no beginnings without endings.

My tenure as Grand Knight of the Auxiliary has reached it's five year point. A time when I either reapply or step down. I have chosen to step down. The Auxiliary needs new perspectives and new leadership. A chance for others to step into the leadership role. It serves as good timing in other ways as well; such as the mandate to seek new Knights to replace the fallen in the High Halls. The law banning free magical use in Amn struck at the Order. Within the High Halls, some rules are different then those in the Auxiliary. Brother can take up steel against another brother if one veers from the oaths and vows taken. Some were pulled to follow the laws of Amn, others lead to speak against the law. Many of the Senior Knights of the High Halls fell to the blades of brothers and sisters. Upon my leaving Athkatla, the request of the Prelates stuck with me,

"Many lost souls wander in the dark... confused by the complexity of justice... mercy... retribution... many souls seek guidance...And now more than ever our numbers are affected by the recent struggles. We need a new generation of Knights among us, fresh minds and bodies that will bring justice and prosperity to the land. Do that, Lord Lyonaler, and your efforts will be most appreciated."

Upon my request to retire from the position of Grand Knight of the Auxiliary, I have asked that the Branch in Baldur's Gate serve a greater role in the Request Prelate Kerthys placed upon me, that the Auxiliary be elevated to a full Chapter of the Order. No longer a cadet branch but another Chapter like that of the High Halls. A Chapter would change the branch in some ways. Three Prelates would serve as leaders of the Chapter. The Keep would become more a school for Paladins and Clerics, while becoming less of a military presence. It will mean saying goodbye to some very loyal members, as the structure of a Chapter only allows for those on the path of the Paladin or Cleric of our Gods. I dread the day i will have to sit each who will no longer fall within the strict rules of the new Chapter House. How does one sit and tell someone that their services have greatly aided the People and served Good, but now must be removed from the Keep's halls? It is my hope that those who will be asked to depart the Keep will continue to perform good works in other capacities.

It is a melancholy time for me. A relief in some ways, while a great anxiety in other ways. Perhaps this is what parents feel, when their child leaves home? I do not know how to express my thoughts this moment. Though, I trust the Order will thrive and perhaps have new and different life blown into it? It is my hope. I will remain as a Senior Knight. But, it will be an odd feeling to not represent it. Though, I must not lose this time with such distracting thoughts. Now is a time to form a new beginning, the time to hand many responsibilities to others and take on new ones.

[sweetlikesplenda]

Cinders drifted down all around. The smell of sulfer lingered heavy in the air. The Castle Triel and the surrounding environs continued to burn long after the Hellfire Wyrm had flown off. Flames that no protections could withstand licked up the stone walls, grasping onto anything that would burn. Tinder supports failed and soon the sound of stone falling to the ground could be heard all around...

Aaron stood in silent witness to the punishments of the wicked beast. His face smeared with blood, sweat and ash, still showed the signs of exhastion. The battle with the Red Wizard and the subsequent summoning of more then half a dozen Resurrection Prayers had sapped any remaining energy and drained him of the ability to show emotion at the moment. Over a decade of struggles on this land; from Black Orc attacks, to Zhentarim influence, into the cleansing of the land from the undead that once consumed the area, followed by aiding the establishment of the wooden pallisades Elturel first built, into supporting the building up of the settlement it would become. Now gone.

His right hand wipes across his forehead, smearing further the ash in his effort to keep it from dripping into his eyes. The flames continued to crackle all around. As people began to step away, attempt to return to their normal daily activities, the Knight-Lord whispers softly a prayer for the fallen soldiers of Triel and those sent by Baldur's Gate and the Lords Alliance. They had no chance to flee before the Wyrm's sudden attack on the fortifications. The Wyrm had sent it's Hellfire to block off the exits and retreat points, before scorching the rest. Death was the result for many who took to the soldier's life. But, it was always difficult to witness it.

Now was not the time to weep for the loss. When he had the energy return enough, the Knight would be seen riding his silver-maned mount back to Radiant Crossing.

[sweetlikesplenda]

*A tenday earlier*

After the meeting with Ornathar at Radiant Crossing, Aaron entered the Palace and made effort to approach several members of the Court. He sought information on Noble or Merchant Houses who had risen in wealth, power, or influence quickly or under scrutiny. It was the head of the spy network who was able to provide the best information.

It would be Spy Master who would actually give him the most relevant informations, on behalf of the Dukes.

The Spy Master looked over his shoulder before moving closer, with his voice lowering to a whisper.
"Lord Lyonaler, your questions are... correct."
He gestures toward a quieter alcove near a curtained window overlooking the courtyard. He would have waited until the two of them were beyond casual earshot, and then he continued.
"You suggested similarities with House Calbrith, and I'll be frank: we have noticed three houses in particular... Houses that were, until some months ago, unremarkable in their dealings: either they were of middle class or slightly below, and now suddenly they purchase what they shouldn't be able to buy."

He begins to count them off, raising one finger after the other.
"First one: House Delvorn. It is a trading house, at least nominally... Their ancestral claim to noble title goes back barely two generations and, well, it has been... questioned by the Parliament of Peers on more than one occasion. What is curious about them, is that they recently purchased three warehouses near the Wide and have been pressing for contracts with the Counting House."
He then rose a second finger.
"Then there is House Maraveth. This is actually an old name, although it is of the middle class... until about six moons ago when they began throwing coin at every social function. Curious isn't it?"
He rose a third finger.
"Finally, there's House Cranthael: probably this is the smallest of these, as it is a merchant family whose nobility - similar to House Divine not so long ago - was aspiration, more than fact. They are now buying debts owed by people who can offer them influence instead of coin, and this is something that caught us all by surprise, considering that House Cranthael, even if they were merchants, they did need coins."

The Spy Master stopped talking, looked around, and crossed his arms.
"Now you'll ask me: what is it that connects these? It's simple: Soul Coins, Lord Lyonaler. You know what that is? It's infernal currency, and they hold a literal soul within, true to its name. It would be a vile thing to just have them as curiosities or spoils of some kind, but no: they are traded and distributed in quantities that suggested an organized supply."
He grumbled as he frowned.

"My sources tell me these three houses have been... well, how can I put it... rather enthusiastic in collecting and distributing these coins."
His jaw tightens increasingly out of frustration, while frowning even further.
"The name of the supplier, is known only recently... blonde, moustache, well dressed, handsome and charming in his own way. The name is 'Michael Angel', probably you heard it already. He presented himself as a Scholar to most, while he also showed himself in certain circles as a broker of 'rare and exotic currency'. There's been a discreet amount of Soul Coins through the city, and he operated quietly while growing trust among those three houses I told you... and the Fist was honestly with the hands full with what is going on through the streets."

He takes a long sigh, exhaling, letting him understand fully of what is going on.
"What I can tell you is that he left Baldur's Gate only yesterday. My man at the Basilisk Gate saw him ride out toward North, likely toward Soubar... but the Houses remain here, and the trade has not stopped. If anything, his departure might embolden them to be more direct, perhaps believing the Fist won't notice anyway... Their Graces decided to let you decide which path to follow, if looking for the supplier Michael Angel, or if stopping the Houses here. We'll be dealing with the other one."

He straightens, his tone returning to a more formal one.
"I trust you will treat this with appropriate discretion. I have shared what I know, but what you do with it... I suspect will be rather less discreet than this conversation."

The choice of paths was his to pick. The Houses had fallen to the influence of the Hells. in the Knight's mind, they could be shut down with authority by the Flaming Fist. But, hunting down the broker, an agent of the Hells, would not be as easy for the Court to deal with, especially with Michael now out of the City.

*A couple of days earlier*

Aaron had approached several trusted allies and sought help with the hunt. People he knew to have the City's interest at heart. Those who had stood in her defense. He knew that his blade alone could not fell a creature that occupied a position at the upper eschelons of the Hells. But, the Pit Fiend Michael would have to wait, the Hellfire Wyrm had struck the City. House Vale was ruined by the Wyrm's breath weapon and now burned with Hellfire, as Triel had days before. The Wyrm then flew off and to Ulgoth's Beard.

Here the final battle would be conducted. A chess board of the Wyrm's choosing. Though, those who opposed the Wyrm, moved their pieces better. The Wyrm and it's minion with it were defeated. Banished for a millenium back to the Hells. The Wyrm's threat gone, it was now time to remove the loose ends to this saga.

A short time after the defeat of the Wyrm, Aaron gathered a small group to move now upon Michael Angel. There hadn't been time yet for those present to celebrate the victory over the Wyrm, nor to mourn the losses sustained. The group was tired from days of battle and rebuilding, yet they continued on. A Pit Fiend corrupting souls was not something to leave to its dealings. After the Devil War, Lord Lyonaler would not let this Pit Fiend remain. He still hung to the thoughts of Lamazeeza, a Lieutenant in the Devil Army from years back, that had escaped without his being able to complete hunting her down after the War ended. He was not going to allow Michael Angel to escape.

The group that gathered met at Radiant Crossing, leaving and moving north and east. Outside of Soubar they came upon the man that was described to Aaron. Or did the man find them?

Michael's opening was quick, to the point.

"I have a proposal." The man, reeking of sulfer and radiating evil, continues. "I have something you want, something you might be interested in... and if I die, well...It will go back to the Nine Hells with me." His tone continues, slow, deliberate, confident, perhaps even nonchalant. "I am done with this Plane for about a few centuries anyway, so the plan was to leave."

The Knight-Lord's voice calls out over the sounds of the swamp surrounding them. "The Wyrm's servants are beaten. For now, the Plane is safe from it. And now it is time to make it safe from you." Pulling his sword 'Knight's Gambit' free of it's sheath, the blade is pointed at Michael. "No deal will be made with you today."

"So you don't want the Blood Magus?" The blonde man querried, his tone almost disappointed, hoping perhaps the play more of his games, gather more souls. "Very well."

Aaron's cloak, the 'Mantle of Strategy' begins to glow, and with it an added aura of authority seeps into the words spoken by him. His ocean blue eyes begin to glow a pure white light, as the power of the Red Knight begins to fill him. The Knight, known for his typically calm tone at most times, lifts in volume, and calls a decree to the Pit Fiend, "Michael Angel, you have been found to have committed crimes of dealing in Soul Coins within the City, with tempting and making deals within the bounds of Baldur's Gate. Your punishment will be swift and it will be dealt here."

"I guess the Blood Magus soul will remain with the Nine Hells afterall. Go ahead, call down your justice...If you can." Slowly the blonde man shifts into his true form, a towering creatures with massive bat-like wings. The Pit Fiend emerges from his disguise to show it's true prowess.



The Knight-Lord spoke words of prayers to the Red Lady. His body shone bright with the powers granted by the Red Knight, as he enhanced his own physical prowess, as well as those around him. Launching forward, his Holy Avenger cut through the air, striking at the Fiend. Those around him flew into action with spells, counter-spells, and blades. Any near the vacinity would hear the roar of the Pit Fiend, the calls of the combatants, and the sounds of the battle. The titanic battle continued on for a time. Thoughts that the battle may never end or end badly, were pushed from the Knight's mind. Until the Fiend began to show signs of faltering, slowing. The Fiend fell to it's knee, before the final blows were struck. It's physical body on this plane shattered, it fell to the ground, then quickly, it began to fade, until the scorch marks upon the ground were the only signs of the great battle.

Fatigue now took the place of adrenaline that once lead the group to continue the fight against such a towering foe. But, through it all, the companions looked over to see Vanira holding a pouch she had lifted during the confusion of the battle. Inside, a prism. Within the Prism, a prisoner trapped. It seems the Fiend was not lying in that it could produce the Blood Magus. A short discussion was held, and it was decided to take the Prism to the Temple of Mystra. The trapped may be the Blood Magus, but Aaron would not have a soul kept trapped from its natural course. The City officials alerted, soon the Prism was taken to a room in the Temple of Mystra, one that would suppress all magics. Flaming Fist Officers circled the room, and the Prism was placed in the center of the magic suppression ring.

Aaron approached the prism, a mace in hand. He adjusted his grip a few times, unused to the weapon. The Knight had not held any weapon in his hand, aside from his own blade, in many years. The Knight set his footing, made a final grip on the handle of the Mace, and lifted it above his head. It was time to discover who was truely inside this Prism. Time to discover what they would do, once freed. Unable to connect with his Lady, the Red Knight due to the magic supression circle, he would need to use his own strength to break the infernal prison of the prism. With deliberate and steady force, he brought the mace down upon the prism. Pieces of the ruby colored infernal glass flew about as his strike destroyed the prism.

A irrate and eleaguered, red haired woman emerged from where the prism once rested. She looked around, confused "Where...?" She then frowns and STARES at Aaron immediately. "Why my magic isn't working?!"

"You will have no need for magic at this time." The Knight-Lord states, calmly, mace still in hand.

"FxxK you! Fxxk the Fist! Fxxk every single one of you!" She screams out in rage. Though, unable to manifest her once awesome magical abilities.

A Flaming Fist officer, near to the woman swings his fist and clocks the woman in the face. Knocking her down. "You will submit yourself to.." Aaron began, then pauses a moment as she is knocked in the face. "The authorities." Aaron produces manicals that are soon placed upon the woman's wrists. As she begins to try to stand once more, the Flaming Fist strike her upon the head, knocking her unconscious. No chances would taken with this Blood Mage. She had been known to be skilled with her magics. Even without the need to use verbal comands. She was quickly taken out and into Flaming Fist custody.

With the banishment of the Hellfire Wyrm, and now the removal of "Michael Angel" and even the Blood Mage, the minions of the Hellfire Wyrm and other agents of the Hells seem to have been dealt with. Perhaps the City could have a reprieve from Outsider dangers for a short time.

/// Spy Master's name changed to "Spy Master" for meta purposes. AI generated pictures, due to my screenshots not seeming to save ///

[sweetlikesplenda]

A record is kept now with the Church.

Where they dreams?

Visions?

Lord Lyonaler was witnessed by attendants at the Shrine to have appeared as if he were miles away, though he physically did not move.When he awoke once more he stood and his eyes shone with a brilliance for a moment and wing egan to grow from out of his shoulder blades. A gift from the Red General. A sign of her Favored.

As his vision cleared and the light within them faded, he looked around the room, as if searching for someone. With a shake of his head he realized the Archievist, the Celestial being that had seemed to be there just moments earlier was no longer present. He moved to find a scribe to take a report of what had ocurred in his visions.

Earlier...

As he knelt in front of the Shrine, he prayed for guidance. For opportunity to continue to give his talents to the City of baldur's Gate That his strategies continue to benefit the City he loves. That the Lady of Strategy guide and bless the future school of strategy and shrine that is to be built at Radiant Crossing.

The feeling of a heavy weight is felt upon the Knight's shoulders..

A feeling of impending purpose. Duty resonates in Aaron’s heart, driving him to action even in spite of the momentary respite from the realms’ woes. The thought of all that he has faced and all that he will face is a brief distraction -- but when he focuses his attention before him, what he sees is no longer the shrine of the Red Knight.

What Aaron seees is no longer the Shrine of the Red Knight, but instead a vast lanceboard upon the center of which soldiers have arrayed themselves in twin columns. Across from Aaron is a vision of someone deeply familiar - Lady Bloodhawk herself.

Lady Kaitlin Bloodhawk: "Present yourself, Lord Lyonaler. There is to be a great battle and we must discuss strategy."

As the Knight pushes to stand from kneeling, ocean eyes lock upon Lady Bloodhawk, then upon the soldiers. "How may I serve?"

Lady Bloodhawk shows Lord Lyonaler the two armies arrayed upon the Lanceboard they stood upon. Both armies matched in strength.

Aaron Lyonaler: "Tell me of the enemy, that a strategy may be formed."

The response was simple, an attacker seeking conquest, a defender seeking survival. Both armies had been at war now for hundreds of years.

Lady Kaitlin Bloodhawk: "The task I set upon you is thusly, Lord Lyonaler. To choose a side. On the surface, a simple question, but you should know better than most that nothing is simple in war. Consider your answer, carefully."

As he speaks chess pieces move about the board, smashing into one another. "Neither side has advantage in numbers. One might pick the army of conquest, to subjegate the defender and bring about peace between both. One might simply choose the defenders, as they seek their freedom. But, knowing neither group, nor their intentions, I cannot pick without knowing further of each army. Strategy is oft driven by the needs or desires of those battling. What drives the attacking army?

As the question is asked, the pieces cease in their movements. Lady Bloodhawk simply smiles and the vision begins to fade.

Lady Bloodhawk and the warriors of the Red Knight melt away. When focus returns to your sight, you find yourself now in an unfamiliar place - and yet somehow you know you are in a critical battle over a key strategic point. Beside you are your allies - holy knights, paladins, and clerics. All of you are grievously wounded. Across the way is an army of Zhentarim. They outnumber you more then two to one.

Dame Catherine the Just: "If this is to be our last stand, let Tyr watch over us as we give ourselves to our duty!"

Triadic Paladin: "The paladins of Tyr are with you, Dame Catherine! We will fight with you until the very end! We are a beacon against the forces of evil, we wmust resist them until our last breath!"

The vision is limited. He can only see himself and his allies upon the bridge, the Zhentarim army pressing closer every moment. There is no archer support, no ballistas. There is no telling what will happen or be lost if this position is retreated from. No telling if other pieces could assist, could move around the bridge and pincer. There was just a moment to decide. Those standing next to him were prepared to fight, prepared to fall. This poisition was vital. All Paladins are familair with the idea of trading their live to protect others. All Commanders know that loss is inevitable at times. All Lanceboard players are familiar with sacrafices. And so it was that the Knight on this Lanceboard was to be sacraficed.

Aaron summoned a prayer of Mass Healing to help his allies and spoke commands to form up along the bridge.

A brave battle for the ages is fought, one that the bards will tell for generations to come. Aaron fights valiantly alongside his compatriots, healing them, taking as many Zhentarim down as he can. But in the end, it is too much. The Zhentarim force is overwhelming and they overrun your position. Aaron, Catherine, and everyone else is slain to the last.

The Vision changes once more..

When Aaron's eyes return to focus again, the battle at the bridge is gone. Instead, you find yourself in an all-too-familiar courtroom

The Magistrate: "Then you personally, my lord. You would stake, name, creed, and title for the accused today?"

The Redeemer: Ocean blues look at the Repentant once more a moment, then back forward "I will hold myself responsible. His failings will become mine."

Aaron was watching the scene of himself, standing before the Magistrate at the Trial of Amos.

It was a moment in his history that he, at times, regretted. At times had wished to go back and undo the pledge he made. His eyes looked upon the vision of the Magistrate, then to the image of himself (Redeemer) and then settling onto Amos (The Redeemed). He knitted his brow slightly, as he took in the vision of Amos standing before the court at his trial. Had he made a mistake that day? Was there another course and he still be redeemed?

The Magistrate: "Then we are decided. Repentant, raise your sword hand and prepare for your oath."

The Repentant: "I pledge my Mercy upon this court. Upon this day, my failures will be shared, My wounds shall be shared. Allow the severing of my hand serve as a reminder that action have consequences."

As the scene plays itself out, suddenly, Aaron becomes intensely aware that all of the witnesses have averted their gaze from the vision of Aaron and Amos -- and instead fallen upon Aaron - the real Aaron - himself.

The Magistrate: "Would you make the same choice again, Lord Aaron Lyonaler?"

He considers his words a moment

Lord Aaron Lyonaler: "I wanted him to be redeemed. I had conversations with him before the trial. I saw in him a desire to change. When he appraered at Radiant Crossing in order to be arrested and taken into the City, I thought, perhaps, he could change, if he were given a chance.. a better example."

The entire courtroom is rapt. All eyes are on Aaron - the current Aaron, the older, the wiser Aaron.

Lord Aaron Lyonaler: "I worried.. I still worry, that I made a Poor choice. That I should have let him take his punishment on his own. But.. I made the choice. I chose to hope. I chose to provide a chance for him to be better. I feel.. I have always felt, that 'a proper example is better weapon in the hands of good, then a blade'. Was I to speak those words oft, but not stand by them? Strategically, it was perhaps not my finest moment. I took a risk, with no real upside for myself. My friends, especially Lord Osric Vale, pleaded with me not to make the choice. Perhaps I wished to show that, even after lossing most of your pieces, you are not completely done for."

The Magistrate: "You have yet to answer the question, Aaron Lyonaler. You need only answer: would you make the same choice again?"

The Vision was correct. He was nearly talking himself out of the decision made that day.

Lord Aaron Lyonaler: "Many chided me, many thought less of me for doing as I did. I will not deny that, at times, I have reconsidered my choice. But, I stand by my decision. I chose to see a better side to Amos. Should he return, I will continue to try to better him. What is the point of redemption, redemption we all wish for ourselves, if we do not offer it to those who would seek it?"

The Magistrate: "Then you would make the same choice now as you did before?"

Lord Aaron Lyonaler: "I told him, I would slay him, should he break his word given at his trial. And while the thought of that occurring has caused me stress and even anxiety over my choice, I stand with my decision."

An audible gasp runs through the crowd, and then -- Aaron's eyes clear and once more he is within the Shrine of War, before the altar of the Red Knight. He had never left of course. What he saw was only visions ... For a moment, you feel a great weight lifted off of you ... The relief is disturbed only by the sudden beam of radiant light coming from above, and the flutter of wings...

A winged man stood before him, towering in height above the tall knight.

Archivist of the Forgotten: "Greetings, Aaron Lyonaler."

Lord Aaron Lyonaler: He bows his head Greetings. "Pardon, you know my name, but I do not know yours."

Archivist of the Forgotten: "My name is unimportant. You may refer to me as the Archivist of the Forgotten. I record that which is forgotten, such that it will not be. The vision ... the dream you just experienced is one such thing. In the throes of mortal waking, such things as dreams and their details are often lost ... but the Lady of Strategy does not wish you to forget what you just saw and the choices you made."

Archivist of the Forgotten: "Tell me. The choice given you by the Lady Bloodhawk. Rather than make an immediate choice, you chose to question the circumstances. Why?"

Lord Aaron Lyonaler: The Knight considers a moment.. "Because, on a lanceboard, the who or the why is of no importance. But, in the lives of mortals, especially acting within the duties of a Paladin of the Red Lady, the why is always important. When one understands the "Why" they can devise the "How"." He pauses for the briefest of moments, before finishing. "Strategy is never so black and white."

Lord Aaron Lyonaler: "During the Devil War, I gained the Lady's favor through strategies shared with Duke Eltan. Initially, the strategy was to throw troops upon the walls of Tymount. My strategy was to lure out the Devils to attack the Flaming Fist troops ehile a fast unit would attack from the tree line, nearby, acting as a hammer and anvil. I then lead a small unit to take the, now undefended walls, and hold it against the devil forces. In the end, the war turned towards victory for the Flaming Fist and the devil units in a vast area were wiped out. This was done, becuase I knew the why and the who. I understood what might drive the devils and their motivations, I knew the Flaming Fist and those who stood with them and their motivations to fight. I could devise a strategy based on that knowledge."

Archivist of the Forgotten: "The Red Knight was pleased with your choice. Strategy cannot be devised absent knowledge. But what of the battle upon the bridge? Against an overwhelming force, you chose to stand with those who would martyr themselves in a hopeless fight. Why?"

Lord Aaron Lyonaler: "I had little knowledge of the whole battlefield. I knew not what other pieces were in play. Only that the bridge was vital. Could we hold out for support? Where might this support come from? Should we retreat? What terrain behind us could we utilize or might work against us? Would doing so threaten others beyond the bridge? Given the low intelligence I had for that battle, I chose a sacrafice. In the hopes that in doing so, other pieces could be moved to take the enemy. As the lady teaches, knowledge wins battles. Such was not available. had I been in control from the start of the conflict, I would have sought to scout the area better and chosen a different battlefield, then a bridge aginst overwhelming odds. I considered a sacrafice move."

Archivist of the Forgotten: Pauses a moment to listen, then offers. "The Red Knight teachers her faithful that a tactical retreat is always an option. There was no need to throw your lot in with the Tyrrans - remember that you also have your voice and your wisdom. Show those who would throw their lives away that there is a better way in living to fight another day."

Aaron Lyonaler: In agreement, "We can serve the people only if we live to do so."

Archivist of the Forgotten: "You have already explained why you stand by the choice you made to bind your fate to that of Amos Thistle. That you recognize the tactical faillings and risks in making such a choice are sufficient, for the choice is already made -- you could not unmake it now even if you wished to do so."

Lord Aaron Lyonaler: "I will continue to hope that he, as a pawn in this case, be moved to the other side of the board and become something much more powerful. "

Archivist of the Forgotten: "May the Red Knight see you to such a strategy, lord of men."

Archivist of the Forgotten: "Aaron Lyonaler. Your choices have been tempered with wisdom and do honor your goddess, the Red Knight, the Lady of Strategy. Recognize your failings and learn from them; walk anew with the knowledge you have gained today. Your vision has been recorded such that you will never forget them. Remember what you have seen and your choices here today, Aaron Lyonaler, for your journey is only beginning ... and you have taken the next step in the epic that shall be your life."

With a snap of his fingers, the Archivist is gone -- and Aaron emerges from his vision for real. And as he steadies himself, he realizes that solemn gray wings have sprung from his back, marking him forever as one of the Red Knight's favored.