VEYL: First Campaign Thread

Aubrik lets the warlord's heavy words settle over him. The abstract philosophy bouncing between the warlord and the tiefling starts to drift right over his head. Forges of desire, chains of disruption. A lot of fine talk to sweeten the real message.

Dirty hands. Enduring hatred.

It is more evidence that here is a leader willing to step over bodies to build his new world. It's a bitter, dangerous taste, but the Flow has put them on this path for a reason.

With the soldier's knock still echoing in his mind, he knows the time for talk is bleeding away. There is a tribunal waiting, and the fire is already lit under the kettle.

He doesn't interrupt the heavy silence Kaelor left hanging over the tiefling. Instead, he slowly shifts his weight, his thumbs now tucked into his leather belt and his dark eyes moving from Kaelor's scarred face to Toil. He remains perfectly still, waiting to see if the preacher is going to choke on the warlord's challenge, or if he's actually ready to drink the brew he stirred up.

Toil seems impressed at the fact there seems to be an irritation at the general being called 'general' by his underlings, an irritation that is recognised and behaviour corrected because of.

Toil listens, sure he likes the sound of his own voice and long monologues are a disarming method for the most part, but it is rare that Toil gets to listen to another person participate in the act. Especially one with so many followers. The smile never cracks, never slips from Toil's face, it has been a while since he got a specifically verbal dressing down and he revels in the opportunity, taking the carefully crafted jabs and stabs with the ease of a fencer ready to counter. As he does Toil's voice also remains very calm. A hint of amusement tickling his throat as he speaks and that unwavering smile still stuck there. He speaks like a man jestingly berating a dear friend at the tavern. It is an odd display to say the least.

"You are an animal... We all are, the base instincts in you are what drive you, you can coat it in whatever you like but altruism? true altruism, is a damned myth and you know it. 

There are benefits to being a leader of course, be it the riches, power, and respect on one side, or the admiration and feeling of pride in doing good on the other. It is the excuses that you seem to lean on. It is understood that any amount of brutality can be reasoned away and excused when there's somebody to save, right? How many terrible things, unintended consequences have you and yours not answered for in the name of saving someone else? But that's the trick, there's always going to be some one to save, always! And sure a perfect world is something to strive for, but it is an unattainable ideal, a banner to get behind for those who have lost enough to blindly bind themselves to it, to you.

You insinuate my hypocrisy, that I have bound myself in labels of distributor and agitator. But these are names given to me by others, I freely do what I want when I want, I revel in it, and should that make me butt heads with one person or another then I face those consequences. Like everyone should. Is that admirable? Is that selfish? That's not for me to say, that is a perspective of others that I do not force upon them, but I am free, and if your wants truly are what you say they are then I accept that, But it is odd to me that you laden yourself with your will like it is burden. Are you not free? Are you not revelling in life?

You have, however, piqued my interest. I do very much want to see what comes next, and I do very much want to know what turned you into this, but I'll be going along your little mission for my own interests, not yours. I'm sure you understand." Toil chuckles, a deep rolling chuckle that seems to echo through the mostly unfurnished room, when he says he enjoys his life he really seems to wear that fact upon his sleeve.

“Anyway…” Rory steps closer to the map, leaning forward, putting his fists on the table.  “You said we would have a cart drawn by two warhorses, carrying cargo, and that we shouldn’t steal from the cart.  What exactly would we be carrying?  Of course we wouldn’t “steal” from the cart, but I’d like to know what we are to convey across this pass.  Will we be given horses to help our speed?  And lastly… unless there are other questions about motives, how our mommy raised us, and what not… where are the pockets of resistance that you might anticipate?  Our endpoint and contact there would be the last piece of information.  Unless… there are other questions here from my fellow warriors?”  Rory turns and looks at everyone with a twinkle in his eye.  

"A warrior can be anything", Aubrik agrees softly, gesturing toward Harper and his scribbling. "Even a warrior of the pen, fighting to keep the truth from being swallowed by the dark".

He looks back to Rory, a faint, respectful tilt of his head. "I have no more questions about motives. Let's hear what we're hauling".