The Lady deKestral

	The Lady Vleria deKestral had ensconced herself in a cocoon of flowing, warping energy.  The tiny magical machine projecting it had been a gift from a dear friend.  The energy was from her owner.

	Vleria had been a busy girl for the last few thousand years, all in the name of those she served gladly.  Her bond and pact with the Seldarine, and with Sehanine Moonbow, had long hardened her mind and soul against the ravages of time, hate, impatience, and evil.  Her tower had sat there concealed by the trees of the Neverwinter Wood for many years, until the wars and madness of the Spellplague had revealed it.  For years after, her only company had been the darkness and ghosts of Conyberry, left in ruins after earthquakes, werewolves, Netheril, the Cult of the Dragon, and drow slavers had reduced it to a blasted waste.

	Then the colonists had showed up, and she had come to their aid more than once.  Her body and spirit, with no soul to guide them, had enjoyed the brief moments of companionship and action the villagers had provided her.  It had been something of a comfort to her empty, peaceful life.

	Thus, when she heard the soft chime of a bell by her meditative bubble, she opened her eyes with the slightest smile.  She cast her mind to the front door.  Was it that half-elf mercenary lad Ixan, come to ask her questions about the past?  Perhaps that jovial chap, Ambassador Henry Dilmund, come to ask her to sit on the council of local authorities and help ease the new town’s birth pangs?

	Then she frowned.  No, it was a handsome soldier and two terrified goat-legged people.  That was unusual.


	Linus cleared his throat as he tried to fight off his nerves.  Vleria deKestral outranked him in the nature of the divine by so much that it actually intimidated him.  Standing outside her tower felt incongruously like when he had seen Eilistraee in a vision thanks to just being close enough to Luanea to feel it when she performed her ritual.

	“So she’s your boss?” Viri asked.

	“No, not anything like that.  She’s a prophet of the elf pantheon,” Linus said truthfully.  He took a deep breath.  “And you think I’m scary when I’m mad…”  He drew his sword and held it at his side.

	Both fey looked at him with alarm, but the door swung open before either could react.  There stood a short, muscled, and achingly beautiful elf woman, with glittering silver moons for eyes and a monk’s battle robe draped artistically over her slender shoulders.  “Knight Vorth,” she said, in the most emotionless voice the Feywilders had ever heard.  “Are you here for business?”

	Linus knelt on one knee at once, burying the tip of his blade in the soft soil outside her threshold, and rested his forehead to the cross.  Viri and Lumira’s jaws dropped.

	“That would be a yes,” the elf noted.

	“Holy Lady, I beg your mercy and aid,” Linus said quietly.  “A dread Abyssal force may be approaching this village, and it may be imminent.”

	“So it always is, goodly Knight,” the elf woman said.  She took a few bare footsteps back into her home, and the pretty silver lights in her eyes didn’t dim as she moved into the darker area.  It was most unsettling.

	“When I say ‘force,’ I do not mean a singular being,” Linus said.  Viri looked back and forth in confusion – they were speaking Common, which she couldn’t understand.  “I mean a Warhost of Gnolls and Maw Demons.”

	The elf’s eyebrow flickered for a moment.  “Oh.”  She looked to the two fey.  “And who are your fetching companions?”

	“Lumira and Viridian,” Linus said, indicating each in turn.  “They encountered this darkness.”

	Vleria deKestral closed her eyes for a moment.  “I see.”  She opened them, and both fey looked in awe.  She hadn’t changed physically, but something bright and terrible had come over her.  Both women cowered when she fixed them with her stare.  “Come in,” she finally said.


	Linus relaxed in the cushioned chair of deKestral’s study.  Viri and Lumira sat on either side of him, and spoke when spoken to.  The gods of the elves weren’t the gods of the satyr-kin, but they were very closely allied, and everything about deKestral, from her dress to her monastic weapons on every wall to her clearly god-touched eyes screamed power.  As if Linus’ deferential behavior wasn’t evidence enough.

	“And so you are wounded, little faun, by the blow of this beast,” deKestral finished.  Linus and the women had summarized the story for her.  deKestral was fluent in Sylvan, as it transpired.

	Viri shrank from her scrutiny.  “Yes, Lady,” she said.  She hadn’t realized the woman had known Sylvan until she had suddenly asked Viri a question in that language halfway through the story.

	deKestral had not sat down at any point in the tale.  She bade Viri rise with a gesture, and the young faun did, helped along by Linus’ encouraging smile.

	“Look into my eyes of the moon, young lady,” deKestral commanded.  Viri did so, but before she had time to be scared, deKestral immediately waved her off.  “Enough.  I see what need be seen.  You speak truly.”  She gestured to the steep ladder up into her tower.  It was incongruous next to the immensely luxurious décor.  “I have sensed a gathering darkness here, as well.  You remember.”

	Linus nodded.  “Evil blinked.”

	“Yes.”

	“That…” Viri trailed off when she realized the others were staring.  “Er, when you had us help you and we flew to the village on Noble?”

	“Yes.”  deKestral nodded.  “My Mistress spoke those words to me.”

	“Oh.”  Viri sighed.  “I’m… not a good adventurer.”

	Linus chuckled.  deKestral gave no reaction at all.

	“I shall aid you, Knight Vorth, for my Mistress allows it,” deKestral said.

	Linus sagged in his chair.  “Thank you, your Ladyship.  Command me.”

	“No.  I know nothing of these satyrs, this Warband.  You shall command me, and I shall do my best,” deKestral said calmly.

	Linus winced.  “I am in no position to command a prophetess of the Seldarine, your Ladyship.”

	“Yes you are.”

	Linus stared uncomfortably into the void between them after deKestral’s stark proclamation.  “Wow, alright then,” he finally said.  “Sure.  Why not.”  He rose to his feet and bowed deeply.  “Thank you for this grave honor,” he said.  “Let us travel.”


	Outside, however, deKestral covered her eyes with one hand and looked at the shadows.  “Lumira, when does your acquaintance meet you?”

	Lumira looked up at the treeline.  “Any moment now.”

	“Go, then, girl.  We will follow you,” deKestral said.  “Viridian, make yourself comfortable in this tower,” she said.  “Abyssal warfare is no place for an innocent.”

	Viri stomped a hoof in frustration, but a single glance from deKestral was enough to send her scurrying inside.  Lumira took a deep breath and walked towards the treeline.

	“I should go with Lumira,” Linus said.

	“After promising to cut Gillint in half?  I think not,” Lumira snapped over her shoulder.

	deKestral walked up beside Linus, and they watched the satyress walk away.  “I see your heart, Linus Vorth,” she said quietly.

	“Of course you do,” Linus sighed.

	“You are conflicted.”

	“I am.”

	The two of them stood silent as the dappled summer sunlight spilled over the soft grass and leaves all around them on the ground.  At length, deKestral spoke.  “I am no servant and property of Torm.  I serve Her of the Fields of Arvandor, in her guise as Sehanine.”

	“I know, my Lady,” Linus said.

	“She, this satyress of yours, she is a foe of yours,” deKestral observed.

	“She is a remorseless rapist and liar,” Linus ground out.  “I’d take her head from her shoulders if I hadn’t promised her life in exile instead.”

	“Yet there she walks, without complaint, to see what ails her friend Slicce,” deKestral said.

	Linus growled under his breath.  “I have… struggled for my entire life against enemies who would kill me.  Even eat me.  I have died for my cause and done so without remorse.  I would do it again.  Someday I will.”

	“And yet this woman conflicts your heart,” deKestral noted.

	“She’s evil.  By any metric of law, she’s evil.”

	“No, she has done evil things,” deKestral said.  “And yet now she puts her life on the line to save a friend.”

	Linus glared at her distant backside.  “A single act of conscience does not make up for a brutal, incestuous mind-control orgy.  Especially not one for which she refuses to apologize.”

	“And yet…”

	Linus’ shoulders sagged.  “And yet my instincts as a Paladin command me to pursue her to keep her safe from the Abyssal forces that conspire against my village.  To shield her from the rapacious darkness.”

	“It is a strange path you walk, Linus Vorth,” deKestral said.  “The road of the Paladin is one frought with the storms and quakes of irreconcilability.”  She smiled, very slightly.  “I just sold my soul.  It made things much easier.”

	“Yeah,” Linus muttered.  “Torm doesn’t do that.  Except for that one time.”

	“Neither does Lady Moonbow, most of the time,” deKestral remarked.  “How fortunate, that in the maddest of times, it is more than Lower Planes beings that desire souls.  When the alternative is Mephiston, well… Sehanine Moonbow is understanding.”

	“Don’t tell me anything that makes you uncomfortable,” Linus said.

	“Little can.”  deKestral cocked an eyebrow as Lumira suddenly turned left and disappeared into the trees.  “We have trade, Knight Vorth.”

	Linus tapped his armored knuckles together.  “Let’s save Conyberry.”


	Slicce had to be a bit careful now.  She was tired.  She had been running about in the woods, finding prey for the tempt, since she knew Lumira would be hungry after her time the previous night.  The Dance Lord’s court was far away, and she knew she had no chance to make it there and back in an hour, but she hoped a snack would make Lumira more pliable.

	Thus, when Lumira arrived at the edge of the trees, Slicce was waiting there with a pair of pheasants with snapped necks.  “Lunch!” she said happily.  “Come, sister, I have so much to show you!”