Museum of Grimoire - 5.0 - Early Access (Patreon)

A carved plinth rests at the center of the exhibit, one that depicts an odd sight. Rather than carved artwork, the stonework is a set of mixed lines and crosses which do appear to be consistent in illustrating something. For those who require context, a nearby panel explains the presence of this pillar.

“Map of the old capital, circa Third Age. Restored Seventh Age.”

Now that their names were cleared, the visitors to the ancient city could finally explore it in earnest. Or so Florence would think, only to find Noire spending her time in the saint’s personal vaults. There were apparently a number of artifacts within that she wished to observe and catalog, a limited window in which Tillith’s favor granted her an insight into their faith’s treasuries. Thus her reasoning that while the old capital will always be there, this chance might not be.

So quite unusually, the warlock found herself strolling the streets without an expert eye to guide her wanderings. But she wasn’t alone in her travels. While her public image was salvaged and restored to something resembling acceptance, Florence was still suggested to have at least one esteemed member of the faith accompanying her presence to ward off any foolishness.

Given Tillith gestured to her guardian while saying there, it was quite obvious who she was suggesting. Lacking any better nominations, the mage just went along with it.

At least Photios was turning out to be a very welcomed chaperon. Even if he still insisted on accompanying Florence in full armor, the paladin had surprising knowledge about the old capital despite his self-professed insularity. “Prices in the temple district are oft inflated these days, a stark contrast to the mandated average price set during the war,” he told, subtly warning the warlock away from purchasing a street snack nearby. “The adjustment has not yet been realized outside those who frequent the area regularly, as word takes time to spread.”

“Really?” The vendor’s face puckered at Florence’s refusal, but pretended not to take offense when she purposefully moved on, conversing with the knight. “That’s a bit criminal, isn’t it?”

“It is business. The old capital sees plenty of uninformed passing through.”

“Tourists you mean?”

“I also include those who do business with the old capital on the regular. Nearby towns and villages, both of which have been steadily rising in number since the demon lord’s defeat.” Photios’ eyes wandered over the old stone roads, perhaps imagining a time when these streets were somehow even busier. “The threat is over, so the people wish to return to their ancestral lands.”

“Ah.” Florence caught onto the implied history. “The refugees who sought protection within the Followers of the Divine no longer need to fear the threat of demons lurking outside the ancient walls. So they’re moving out and reclaiming what was abandoned back then.”

“It is as you say. Perhaps in time, everything will go back to the old ways- if anybody remembers then.” The paladin paused, eyes flicking from side to side as he surveyed for threats, ever vigilant. “Nevertheless, the impression left by the devoted has surely lingered. So instead of whatever previous trade routes may have been in place, nearby settlements will be looking to market their produce in the old capital.”

“Thus leading to your bloc growing in power on the global stage.” It also probably wasn’t going to make neighboring kingdoms happy, but that wasn’t for Florence to comment on so. She wasn’t even a saint candidate after all, though a dark voice mused she could be. She banished it for the moment and continued on through the antique city, asking to be taken to a place where her coin would have better value.

Photios heard and obeyed, guiding her to another section of the old capital. Here, the preaching of the faithful was replaced by the hawking of the avarice, those merchants and traders wishing to exchange good, service, or currency. It was undoubtedly the market district, something that was also noticeably smaller than the area dedicated to worship. A curious thing that Florence asked about. “Isn’t this place a bit small, especially given the significance of the old capital?”

“It used to be bigger, much more so. The city was once the central hub of the old empire after all, where the dragon princes flaunted their opulence no less.” Given the furrow of his brow at their mention, he didn’t seem to hold a high opinion of them. Or perhaps that was simply the thoughts of their religion itself, given what was mentioned next. “It had been, according to testimonies, excessively grand and gilded so.

“Even following the downfall of the continental empire, the influence lingered still and seeped into the early days of our councils too.” A tone of revulsion entered Photios’ tone. “If accounts of the period are correct, it was a time where coin wielded far too much powerful over the faithful. Bribes, favors, indulgences… bah.”

“It sounds like a time of corruption. Which I guess goes against your own oaths.”

“Yes, and it does bother me it took far too many saints before such unbecoming greed was excised from our faith.” He exhaled and seemed to lessen his grip on the matter, briefly. “But as that was ‘recent’ development according to the timescale of things, the market district has yet to recover from the reduction.”

“Or maybe it’s a conscious decision of the faith itself, in their headquarters no less,” Florence wondered aloud, earning a begrudging tilt of acknowledgment from Photios. “I’m surprised though that you would be willing to talk about such matters to me. You had been more reserved before.”

“I had only acted in a manner befitting the topic at hand, regarding the sanctity of our saints,” he clarified. “In this role, serving as your… guide, of sorts, it would be dereliction to not provide detail to your inquiries.”

“I see.” The warlock busied herself briefly with some street stalls, eyeing what looked like small roasted balls of dough slathered with honey on a skewer. After some thought, she bought two and handed one to the paladin. “Here, a token of my appreciation at least.”

He gave her a dry look. “Have I not just delivered a sermon regarding the sin of gain?”

“And would you refuse honest alms, given freely? I think ungratefulness is a sin too, isn’t it?”

“…When you put it like that, then I suppose I have no choice but to accept.” Despite his words, he still did take and tear into the sweet enthusiastically. Paladin and warlock shared the small street treat with one another, chewing as they observed the happenings of the market district briefly. Only once they were done eating did Photios curiously speak first. “You speak like you know of our faith.”

“Tangentially, at least. It does reach across the continent after all, and is the more popular denomination compared to the sects.” Florence toyed with the wooden stick briefly before discarding it with a sigh. “Some of my classmates were ardent followers even. So honestly, I’m sort of used to the heresy accusation, somewhat.”

“Yet you seemed to react with surprise all the same upon your arrival to the city.”

“Only because it’d been so long since I had to entertain that sort of drivel. It had occurred only a few times before the teachers at the academy put a hard stop to the entire matter.” Florence’s tone softened, recalling the trouble faculty who were equally uncomfortable with her powers, but at least tried to assist in their own way. “In the name of magical education, nothing was ever to be ostracized or forbidden. Because everybody’s magic was special in their own way.”

Photios nodded approvingly. “The same reason why I see to it that any new initiates who join need not necessarily emulate my style. Sword and shield, pike and halberd, even mace and board- all serve the gods all the same.”

She agreed, though an idea abruptly manifested in her thoughts. This sort of open acceptance, was it something that was always there in the sense of the world’s existence? Or is it perhaps a more pragmatic adoption considering the era of war they had lived through, where anything that could be mustered had to be tolerated for lack of choice?

Was there even said choice then, if denial was to reject a potentially useful asset?

Florence shook her head, dismissing the musing that sounded an awful lot like a rambling archaeologist. Today, she was determined, it was going to be a break day from all that learning that sometimes overloaded her brain. Even now, she was veering dangerously close with Photios!

“Right!” declared the death-bound woman with just a little bit too much enthusiasm. “So, Mister Guide, where to? What would you suggest I see in the old capital in the short amount of time I have? Something not religious preferably, I’ve had my fill of that for the moment.”