Recruiting

[Blystos Re]

Paris glanced about the room at the inn, looking over the faces staring back at her. Dread, fear, shame...all of these she could read clearly, but bravery, valor...not in this group.

"Not one of you?" she asked. "Not one of you is willing to stand up?"

Silence. One or two of them shrank in their seats.

"Then why are you here?" she hissed coldly.

One young cleric to the right of her cleared his throat sheepishly. "Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am, but I thought that a guild of CLAD's stature might, well...might pay a little better, that's all. Yer askin' an arful lot of us fer such little coin..."

"Is that a fact?" Paris approached his seat and rested a gauntleted hand on the back of his chair. She looked at him through narrowed eyes and nodded a short time, as if confirming her thoughts to herself. Without warning, she lifted him by the leg and shirt collar and flung him towards the door. Cries of alarm rang out from the others in the room as they scattered to avoid collision or the reach of the priestess. "Coward!" she shouted. "Who's side are you on?!"

He sat in a heap where he had landed, wide eyed and open mouthed, unable to retort. The remainder of the group in the room edged away uneasily.

"Get out," she said, quietly but firmly. "All of you. I find none of you fit to wear these colors."

The assembly needed no further encouragement, and filed quietly out the door. The hurled man picked himself up and was one of the first to leave. Soon the room was near empty again and Paris was left standing alone in a room of furniture.

Nearly alone. One hooded figure at the far end of the room, it's back to the wall. It's hands folded patiently, as if awaiting it's turn.

Paris eyed the person warily. "I asked you all to leave. Do you need me to help you find the door?" The individual looked like it was probably male, also probably human from the height and build. He wore a mace at his belt, the head shaped like a skull. "What do you want?"

Only then did the figure push away from the wall and remove his hood. It was indeed a man, human at that. He was pale, somewhat gaunt in appearance, and his face bore the lines of one who has worried much in his years. However, what Paris noticed most was the look in his eyes. Any reproach for the man left her at the sheer sorrow and sadness in his gaze. "Lady Paris, I ask you to reconsider. I did not speak before because I wished to confer with you in private."

"Of course," she was taken aback. "What is your name and how can I help you?"

"My name," he said, his voice trembling slightly, "is Elija, and you can help me by hearing me, and allowing me to attone for my crimes by joining your ranks."