Heim Guards

The Kalan Inn stood alone in the wilderness of Cormyr. A grand five-story building as large as a castle, it had more than a main keep: a ten-foot wall, two annexes, a small smithy, a stable, a livestock pen, and a large cistern. It had clearly been built to withstand a long siege.

Most roadside inns in the realm doubled as fortresses to some degree.

Aaron knew the owner of the Kalan Inn. Tama Choya was a half-elf of about seventy, in the prime of his life by half-elven standards. He had a long, horse-like face with regular features and liked to stand behind the bar listening to travelers' stories.

Tama Choya was chaotic good and often did things his own way. The inn had made him wealthy, and he also liked to lend money here—though almost never to unpredictable adventurers from out of town. He hated running tabs, and almost no one could keep one at his inn. Yet the half-elven proprietor was generous, too. An adventurer who had truly run out of money only had to say so at the bar to receive a full mug of barley ale, two rock-hard pieces of black bread, and a piece of salt pork.

The food was free. All the adventurer had to do was share news from the surrounding area with the owner.

Many large roadside coach inns in Cormyr were run by elves or half-elves. There was a reason for that, though the full story would have to wait. In short, the land occupied by the Kingdom of Cormyr had once been part of the Elven Multiverse Empire. As humanity rose, the elves withdrew, leaving the land for humans to settle, farm, and clear, and teaching them magic and other arts.

Just as the United States owed a debt to Native Americans, the people of Cormyr owed the elves something. Even the most extreme and fervent Cormyrian nationalist could not deny what elves had contributed to the kingdom.

The inn had plenty of guards, twenty or thirty in all. Several guards devoted to Heim, the Guardian God, stood watch there as well. His holy symbol was carved on both sides of the iron gate.

That symbol at the inn's entrance meant every grudge and dispute had to be settled outside the gate. Anyone who drew a weapon or cast a spell inside would find no mercy from Heim's guards. They had the legal right to kill troublemakers.

The rogue and barbarian who had gone ahead reached the Kalan Inn's gate in the evening light. In the distance, the stone building looked gilded by the setting sun, while thin curls of cooking smoke completed a lovely medieval scene.

The iron gate beneath the inn's ten-foot-high gateway drew closer. Ferrara waved for the mercenaries to stop, then went to Aaron himself. "My lord, we're here."

"Then go in. What are you waiting for me to do?" Aaron asked with the hint of a smile.

"Heh, you jest, my lord. We aren't from Cormyr. We don't know the place or its rules. Tell us what to do, and we'll do it." Ferrara bent low as he spoke.

"Very well. I'll handle it." Aaron nodded slowly. Under the priestess's faintly scornful gaze, he straightened his robe and collar, then strode toward the Heim guards at the iron gate.

A noticeboard stood outside the gate in the inn's wall.

"By decree of Princess Alicecel Obarskyr, second daughter of the royal house and regent of the Kingdom of Cormyr, in light of recent events:"

"One: All persons entering Cormyr must register with an officer of the border garrison."

"Two: Foreign currency may be used only at designated locations. Exchange yours for Cormyrian gold lions at the earliest opportunity."

"Three: Adventurers must obtain a permit before undertaking any activity as a group."

"Four: All weapons must be kept secured. The sole exemption applies to members of licensed adventuring parties and mercenary companies who can provide proof of employment."

"Five: Do not harm cats."

"Six: Bow to the royal family and local nobility."

"Seven: Purple Dragon Knights may search you when required."

"Eight: Hunting on private land is prohibited."

"Stop!" The Heim guards had been watching the unexpected visitors for some time. Their hands rested on their sword hilts as they kept a wary eye on Ferrara's party. Since the mercenaries had not entered the area under their protection, however, they could only stand and watch.

As soon as Aaron approached, they raised their hands for him to halt. "Identification and permit, please!"

Aaron nodded and took his noble identification papers from inside his robe.

"Viscount Salian! Welcome!" A Heim guard glanced at the papers and promptly saluted. "Forgive us. It's our duty."

Ferrara hurriedly waved the mercenaries through.

"Wait!" The guard stopped them. "Viscount, did you hire these mercenaries?"

"Yes. They're my hired escorts," Aaron replied calmly.

"Do you have a permit or proof of employment?" The bearded warrior in armor held a spear in one hand and gripped his sword hilt with the other. "Those are the rules."

"You need proof of employment?"

"Forgive us, Viscount. We don't mean to trouble you, but rules are rules. Everyone must follow them."

"If you need proof of employment, shall I write you some now?" Aaron took a pen and ink from his pack, a faint smile on his face. "I thought only Purple Dragon Knights had the authority to demand that."

"..." The Heim guards had no idea how to answer.

As guards, these worshipers of the Guardian God could demand identification and adventuring permits from visitors.

As a Cormyrian noble, Aaron needed to show only his identification. He could also issue permits. In a sense, he was a walking permit.

But the guards had no authority to demand that Aaron do anything, least of all write a permit specifically for them. Only Purple Dragon Knights had that power.

Heim guards ran into contradictions like this often. They looked from one to another, but none dared decide to let the party through.

"Please wait, my lord. We'll explain the situation to the innkeeper and ask him to make a fair decision."

The Heim guards went inside. The priestess walked slowly over to Aaron, disdain in her voice. "They're always like this."

"They? Heim guards?"

"The Guardian God's guards are just like their god. They have granite for brains. They follow orders to the letter, whether those orders tell them to protect cities, inns, and ruins from creatures of the wild, or to suppress helpless women, children, and the elderly and drive the few good lycanthropes from their homes. They obey. They never ask why. They're puppets without feelings, content to be controlled." Eleanor plainly thought little of the Guardian God. "They scarcely deserve to be called alive."

"If not for the Guardian God's foolish decision during the Time of Troubles, the Lady of Magic would not have fallen. He bears at least half the blame for the disasters that destroyed countless families," Eleanor continued. "I can't believe his followers can still stand here so self-righteously, shamelessly acting as if none of it happened. It's sickening."

Aaron said nothing. He knew the story.

Heim had once wielded considerable influence throughout most of the realm. As an eternal guardian and ever-watchful sentry, he obeyed the Overgod Ao's commands to guard and watch over the entire realm. He was lawful to an extreme. Once given a task, he carried it out completely and without mercy. Children were almost the only exception. Heim liked them, and when faced with a minor, he might consider leniency.

Heim's church had once been called the "shield of civilization" and was renowned for producing excellent guards. People trusted Heim guards as their most reliable protectors, and most good-aligned gods had been on decent terms with him.

Then came the Time of Troubles.

The gods were cast down to the mortal world and forced to walk it as avatars. Heim, however, received Ao's order to prevent any of them from returning to their divine realms. The Guardian God took up his post at the Celestial Stairway with the authority to bar their passage.

That ultimately led to the death of the second Lady of Magic and enraged the good-aligned gods. His indifference to the countless disasters across the realm also revealed his true nature to mortals: obey orders, hold the post, and disregard good and evil.

His soul was colder than stone.

After the Time of Troubles, mortals and gods alike despised the Guardian God's conduct. No matter how hard Heim's church tried to repair the damage and recover its strength, his influence across the realm had undeniably declined.

Aaron thought it was hard to say Heim had been at fault. He had faithfully carried out his orders. The second Lady of Magic had brought about her own death by trying to exploit a loophole and take a shortcut.

Yet she had meant to end the catastrophe as quickly as possible and find a way to tell Ao the truth behind it. She had acted for the safety of mortals. Beside that, Heim's coldness looked terrible.

Eleanor was a devout follower of the Silver Mother, and Selûne was a steadfast ally of the Lady of Magic. It was little wonder the priestess bore the Guardian God ill will.

"Miss Eleanor, I think you have a point. But at least you can stand here and criticize Heim guards as freely as you like, and they can't do anything to you. Am I right?" Aaron sighed softly. "If you were in their place, could you do the same?"

The priestess froze.

"Viscount Salian! Is that Viscount Salian?" A half-elf in the prime of his life hurried over with several guards. He seized both of Aaron's hands excitedly. "Come, let your uncle get a good look at you! Has it only been a few years? You've grown so much!"

"Uh..." This was clearly Tama Choya. Aaron had no idea what to do with the half-elven innkeeper's enthusiasm.

"Oh, your father and I were old friends. What happened to them grieved me too, but let's not dwell on the past. Come in! Let me introduce you to everyone!" The half-elven innkeeper took one of Aaron's arms. A human woman beside him, perhaps his second or third wife, took the other, and together they ushered him into the inn. "The last Salian!"

"Um..." With everyone watching, Aaron was escorted into the inn by the fading light of sunset.

"Please, come in, all of you." After that reception from the innkeeper, the Heim guards had no reason left to stop them.

He's welcome everywhere he goes. Watching Aaron disappear through the gate surrounded by people, the priestess felt a faint stir of envy.

She had once known what that was like: being adored, being the center of attention. The half-elven priestess had enjoyed it—until an attack one day made her realize people gathered around her not because she was exceptional, but because her face was beautiful.

The discovery disappointed her deeply. From that day on, she wore a veil.

Sure enough, once she covered her face, the people who had surrounded her drifted away. That hurt even more. What Eleanor hated most was being seen as a "beauty" rather than an "excellent priest."

Ferrara's mercenaries hurried to load up the goods and bring them inside the walls. Eleanor noticed that the rogue was drenched in sweat and asked with concern, "Have you been waiting long?"

"Not long, my lady. We'd only been here a little while when we sensed you coming." The short rogue grinned and pulled a face, making a joke of it. "I could smell you from a long way off, my lady. Heh, it's pretty sharp."

A fierce gust swept across the darkening sky like a steel blade. The pressure rolling off the priestess knocked the little rogue onto his backside.

"M-my lady?" The rogue was terrified. The priestess was trembling slightly, especially her hands.

Her emotions surged, but she forced them down.

"If you want to live, stay away from me." A few seconds later, the priestess slowly turned and left. She ran a hand over the bugbear brains stuck to her robe and frowned.

My smell?

Of course. I'm a priest who walks a path of blood, cutting through all things in Selûne's name in pursuit of the primordial light.

I am neither human nor elf. I have nowhere I belong.

If I lose my faith as well, I'll have nothing left.

But at least... at least... Eleanor tightened her grip on the warhammer at her waist, then clutched the small pendant at her chest as though it were a lifeline.

As I am now, I'm too weak. I have no right to save anyone.

Great and supreme Silver Mother!

What should I do?

The priestess walked away. Ferrara exchanged a glance with his deputy, Montero, and motioned for the rogue to hide elsewhere.

"What do you think?" Montero asked quietly. "Do we go on with it?"

"No. We finish this job properly." Ferrara shot his deputy a warning look. "I believe now that meeting the viscount was Tymora's blessing."

"Once this job is done, we must make a donation at Tymora's temple in Suzail to thank her."

"If all goes well, certainly." Montero agreed wholeheartedly. Their luck on this trip had been extraordinary.

"If all goes well, we might even work with the viscount again. That would help us over in Zambia..."

"Did you feel it? The viscount's magic, and that charm of his. There's something strange about him!"

"What sort of noble needs a priest to follow him everywhere?"

Updated! I posted two chapters today! I'm amazing!

I'm completely out of saved chapters now, waaaah!