Grant part 3
After the age of 60, Grant knew that we was a step slower but a bit wiser. He hoped that his fight with Razk would be the last epic duel where his opponent wasn't a brother of the faith. He wanted to train others and spread the faith more. For forty years he had been a faithful servant of Tyrogatore and tender of the religion in the forest. Such was the respect for him that he was allowed into Scalehome unwatched to judge certain trials.
This was the case in 812 when the voice of Scalehome called upon his services. A renowned sheriff and investigator from Owt, Kyle Sharplefe had uncovered evidence of a decades old massacre of residents of the forest. Terrible tales of being eaten alive by trolls. Scalehome was implicated in the acts and wanted to make sure the trial was seen as fair, so they allowed Grant to adjudicate. The trial took many months, with witnesses that were still alive coming forward. Old wounds were opened and the anger spilled over in the court. Grant kept control.
Both sides completed their arguments. During the trial, the fey barrister named Ikinit was constantly trying everyone's patience and using tricks and loopholes to sidetrack the case. The efforts were either incompetent or there was some other force working to thwart them. Grant suspected the latter, but whatever it was, it did not infringe on the case, only the fey's efforts to subvert it. Grant's conclusion was that the fey had deceived Scalehome and operated a vile effort to strengthen their warriors by feeding them live prisoners. Grant had long suspected this, as many others had, but now the evidence allowed for a conclusion.
The fey went wild. Chaos ensued and they blamed Scalehome for the incident. They did not recognize the ruling, they cried foul and in an effort to clear themselves blamed everyone and every thing: Tyrogatore and his clerics, Greenfellow and his nation, the Fey that sided against them, quasi deity influences, powerful wizards, halfling cooks, lower planar influence, and on and on. Tens in not hundreds of thousand fey, many of which were born to Habololy over the past two decades and did not know the planes, went into hiding. Grant was able to name only a few in his decision. Chief among them were the Devourer and Skaeshin Déantóir Cogaidh, the master of war. Dusk Trolls were ruled in violation of the right order of life and banished to the planes if found.
After the trial, Grant's fame and infamy grew. Some thought he would challenge for the role of high cleric of Tyrogatore, but he did not. The next year's were filled with slights and tricks played on him by the unseelie. He left reprisals and the hunt for the fey to others. He took residence at a shrine of Tyrogatore in Dukalia, near his birthplace. Two years earlier, the duke had died and his son had taken over. Grant liked the son far better and moving back was a sign of approval. The shrine became known as Grant's Court. The fighting arena next to it was bustling with activity. All seemed well.
One day, he was enjoying the sun on his feet, watching from the second floor as acolytes practiced, calling out direction when needed. A commotion stopped the action and Grant rocked forward to see. Old age was terrible.
"It will be quite the battle! Ten on one! Are you all allowed to wager in this?" A foppish dwarf and two other walked into the arena and one of the other dwarves looked like a warrior of stone to Grant. His acolytes would be tested today, good. Footsteps behind him, old age again sneaking up on him. Still quick enough, he spun around to face any threat.
"No need to worry," the human said with hand raised in peace. "We don't want a fight, well at least yet." Grant had some memory of the human and elf that stood before him. "Maybe you remember, maybe not. This is 'Keylin Windsword' and I'm 'Grey Claudemander the 2nd'" the human said while winking. We need you help with a mission."
The elf, shaking his head, said, "Its important, dangerous, and fitting for one of your stature. Let us tell you what we can."
Having heard what they said, Grant knew he had little choice but to go with them. Preparations needed to be made and he needed to let some know. But first, he someone owed him and he would be dragging him along...
Cleric 7 / Emenotan 10 / Keeper of the Arts 7