Discomforting Dillemma

The Storm Hawk made port in Santure a few days after the prisoners' failed attempt to escape. The knight had gotten himself into a righteous fury over Hethir's treatment of the prisoner, until Hethir informed him that if he was so worried about it, he should either heal the man or give him a mercy-killing, because anything else was just hot breath. Trace did not respond after that, but had spent the past few days in silence and looking troubled.
Hethir preferred it that way.


Santure was not an imposing city like Tastrel. It had the typical coastal city sprawl, the run-down, seedy taverns, the drunks carousing in the streets; all told there was little setting it apart. Until you saw the Temple of Lumis. Its spires crested hundreds of feet above the rest of the city. Lights burned in every window, and bells sounded seemingly at all hours of the day, for reasons most did not bother to understand. It was ancient, so much so in fact that common history had forgotten exactly when it was constructed. Hethir knew better. Construction had begun before the royal family had solidified its hold over the current borders of Astoria, though it was not finished for some decades after. The most distinctive facet of its history is that the followers of Lumis were so fervent, and so apparently empowered by their god, that the armies of their would-be conquerors were unable to dislodge them. The man who would become the first King of Astoria acknowledged their devotion, and granted the followers of Lumis the land they had fought so hard to hold. While not common knowledge, the city of Santure was not actually part of Astoria, it was ruled entirely by the clergy of Lumis.
And this presented Hethir with a significant problem. He was--to say the least--not well liked by them. He half expected his ship to have been boarded as soon as they touched ground, but so far at least, his fears were ungrounded. In Astoria proper he would have been reasonably safe, he might be kicked out of a city but he would not be actually harmed unless he broke the law. Hethir could not attribute such mercy to Lumis.

Turning back to the deck from looking out at the docks, Hethir almost ran into the knight, Trace. He glared at the man with a look that would have buckled iron, except Trace wasn't looking at the captain. His eyes were locked on the Temple. His eyes were wide, and his mouth hung slightly agape as he took in the sight. Even having seen it before, Hethir had to admit it was impressive, but he was surprised by the knight's reaction.
"Been a while since you've been home then?"
Trace stammered something unintelligible and drug his eyes away, stomping down the deck towards the gangplank. Hethir watched him with annoyance, but his eyes widened slightly when he overheard Trace muttering, "I never imagined it... how vast it would look... it is... incredible... I never thought to see it finished..."
See it finished? What is he muttering about... Michael! Get the ship restocked, I don't want to spend any more time in this port than we have to. Keep as many men on-board and ready to move as you can.
Aye sir.

The mercenaries were all gathered on the dock as Hethir stepped off the gangplank. He was dressed again in his captain's finery, and again he bore a minor illusion to hide his more devilish traits. Val accompanied him, hanging quite luxuriously on his arm, and doing an excellent job of maintaining her facade of a somewhat sheltered noble-wife out for some adventure. She really was overqualified.

"I want information, and unfortunately I think the only way I'm going to get it is through the church itself. Your job is simple, keep me alive while I figure out what's going on."
Mary and Garius nodded, Trace looked uncomfortable. Hethir's eyes narrowed at him. "Is something wrong knight?" Trace shook his head but did not meet his eyes.
Something about you is not what it seems, is it, knight?
Now Trace snapped his head around to glare at Hethir, who did not move or even blink in response. I'm not bothering to try and pull your thoughts, frankly I don't need to, your face is an open book. The two men locked eyes, each seeming to dare the other to look away.
You've never been to Santure before... have you. What I can't understand, is how that's possible.
Trace clenched his jaw, "You don't know anything..."
Oh but I do... knights are RAISED in the temple, you should have spent the first twelve years of your life in its shadow... but you gawk even more than your friends here.
Trace finally broke the gaze and looked down, though his teeth were still tightly clenched.
Keep your secrets, they're worth little to me, but don't act so out of place, or you'll bring down an inquisition on us faster than you can spit a prayer.
The knight jerked his head slightly in a gesture Hethir decided was supposed to have been a nod. With a sigh, he started walking towards the Temple, the mercenaries behind him.