Chapter Text
With the whole Fleshmarkets checked, and no sign of any Golarians for sale – something that Juniper considered to be good luck, though it also left her with a feeling of unease waiting for the other shoe to drop – the group began moving towards the same route by which Juniper had entered the Fleshmarkets in the first place, days ago.
That would mean going past Krebus – but before they actually reached him, Lann nudged Juniper.
"Hey," he said. "I think I saw a familiar face."
"Not Suture again, is it?" Juniper asked. "You don't sound worried so it can't be Hepzamirah."
"Not Suture," Lann confirmed. "Woljif."
"...really?" Juniper asked, following Lann's gaze, then sighed and walked over to a stall selling exotic extraplanar fruits – which was to say, apples. "And what do you think you're doing here?"
"Well, I was tryin' to sneak out and find the black market, that's what," Woljif replied, rising up from behind the stall. "And since you had Uncle Greybor with you, I thought I'd just go and handle it myself? How hard could that be?"
"Well, not easy," Juniper replied. "How long ago, exactly, did you come up with this plan? I ask because, if you'd mentioned it more than about thirty minutes ago, I would have just assigned Greybor to keep tabs on you."
Woljif tugged at his collar, nervously. "Less time ago than that?"
"I gathered," Juniper replied. "All right, Woljif, you'd better come along with us for a while."
"What?" Woljif said. "Why would I have to do that?"
"Do you want the smartass reason or the pragmatic reason?" Juniper asked.
Lann chuckled. "Somehow I knew there'd be more than one reason."
"I guess… either?" Woljif said. "Both, in either order? Let's hear it, boss."
"The smartass reason is that, well, this way Greybor's present for your protection," Juniper said. "I've got him with me, and I already have a place I want to go – so you'll just have to accompany me for a bit."
She winked. "And the pragmatic reason is that this isn't a punishment, but it's dull enough that I think you'll remember it in future."
Woljif frowned. "I dunno, that sounds like a punishment to me…"
"Maybe it is," Juniper conceded. "Though I assure you, Woljif, I have your own best interests at heart… and I'm sure that's something you've heard before."
"You might say that, yeah," Woljif agreed. "People sayin' they're doing something for my own good usually end up punishing me and expectin' me to feel grateful."
"Well, why do you think I'm doing this in the first place?" Juniper invited. "Woljif, this is Alushinyrra – you've seen what they actually think of tieflings here."
She nodded in the direction of Sarzaksys, and Woljif flinched slightly.
"Fair point," he muttered, not looking at Juniper.
"If you want a pragmatic reason, then, fine, take it that I don't want to see the investment of time and money I put into you lost because you were walking around Alushinyrra without backup," Juniper said. "And that's not false, but I'd also prefer to see you survive – and if you will be so disrespectful of your own safety, then you can hardly be surprised if others take that burden on."
Woljif frowned.
"I don't know how respectful it actually is to try an' stop me from going out," he said. "I can look after myself."
"This is Alushinyrra," Juniper replied. "Have you seen the precautions I'm taking?"
She indicated the Hand of the Inheritor, who inclined his head in respect.
"...yeah, yeah, I get it," Woljif said, sounding contrite and a little embarrassed. "So, where are we goin', anyway?"
"Back to Latverk, first," Juniper answered. "He's on the way to the Ten Thousand Delights."
The aasimar wasn't standing outside his home, this time, and Juniper knocked on the door.
"I think you told me about this Latverk," Sosiel said. "The one who ventured down into the Abyss to rescue his own kind?"
"That's correct," Juniper agreed. "I'm hoping for his help, here."
She waited a long moment, then the door opened a crack and Latverk peered through.
"Ah!" he said. "Kind lady, you've returned. Please, come in – but no further than the atrium, I beg of you. My poor wards do not take well to the presence of others."
"That seems an understandable restriction," Juniper said, thinking, and stepped through the door.
If Latverk had expended most of his resources, it seemed that furnishing his home had come before he'd reached that point. There was nothing that Juniper could point to individually and say it was worth a lot of money, but the furniture and carpets were of quite high quality and there were bookshelves full of books.
"Well, now, this is interesting!" Woljif said, cheerfully. "You've got a pretty nice house, for the Abyss."
"Sometimes, surrounding oneself with a more familiar beauty can be exactly what it takes to survive privation," Sosiel said, touching his breastplate with the enamel depiction of Shelyn. "Beauty is a consolation."
"Quite," Latverk agreed, but he was frowning. "I… fear I may be misunderstanding something, lady. I thought you would be bringing those poor aasimar girls here?"
"I rescued them, not long after our conversation," Juniper told him. "I took them back to my own camp – it's more easily defended."
Latverk frowned. "I… well, I am infinitely grateful that you freed those unfortunates, but you should have sent them to me."
"...that doesn't sound infinite," Aivu mumbled. "Isn't infinite a really big number? Like… bigger than all the other numbers, even put together?"
Juniper laughed.
"I like that description," she said. "And yes, infinite is – without limit. More than there could ever be. That's what the word means, anyway, though there's actually different kinds of infinity."
She shrugged. "But what Latverk means, here, is that he's as grateful as it's possible to be that the aasimar women are safe. But that he thinks they should have come here instead. Why is that?"
Latverk spread his hands. "The women survived a terrible shock," he said. "Perhaps even abuse. They need a kinsman's care – someone who can understand them, listen to them, and try to heal the scars left by their ordeal. I fear that eking out a meagre existence in an army camp, surrounded by gruff armed soldiers, will only reopen their wounds."
"Ah," Juniper said, with a slight frown. "You may be labouring under a misapprehension, Latverk. You appear to have assumed that the camp is an army camp full of soldiers, but that's simply not the case – it's a camp full of other freed slaves."
She raised an eyebrow. "I rather suspect that they're now surrounded by those who would understand their plight better than anyone else?"
"That may be how it appears to you, I concede," Latverk said. "But I am still of the opinion that those poor girls would be better off under my care – I have experience in such things, and a delicate touch is for the better."
"Perhaps it is," Juniper replied. "However, I actually have a suggestion which would allow you to make use of those talents in a different way, to handle others who I can't deal with so easily… you see, among those for sale in the Fleshmarkets is a group of pleasure slaves. They've been brought up all their lives with the belief that they will serve a kind, beautiful master, who will not give them much work, and they will spend their days in a luxurious mansion."
Juniper shrugged. "The aasimar women were on sale next to them, and of course those victims had no such illusions – so for them, my camp in all its imperfections is liberation. But for those pleasure slaves, your home is probably the best place they could go."
Latverk looked troubled. "I have seen the ones of whom you speak," he said. "Though… they are male and female, and of many races, and I fear it would disrupt the fragile balance I have attained with my wards."
"Everyone is hurting," Ember said. "The people in this house all have pain to deal with. The slaves who Juniper is talking about have a different kind of hurt, and it's in the future…"
"What's wrong with taking in men as well?" Sosiel asked. "The idea that women are the weak gender that needs to be protected from men is… one of those ideas that somehow manages to insult both at once and anyone in between."
He waved a gauntleted hand. "And, yes, I know that there can be trends, that some kinds of abuse happen one way more than the other, but… you're talking about taking in any female rescuees, and no male ones."
"It's like he's never even met me," Wenduag said, with a chuckle. "Or you, Mistress."
"The principle that an escapee can and should be sheltered from someone who might traumatize them is not a wholly unworthy one," Juniper contributed. "But if what I'm after is a safe house… it seems rather discordant to only accept female aasimar, and put everyone else in trouble."
Latverk looked like he was thinking, but a moment later there was a crash against the door. Then another, and Greybor stepped out of the way just before the door opened with a slam.
Several demons came through, fanning out and drawing weapons, and Juniper held out her paw. Finnean materialized in it as a javelin, then shifted to a quarterstaff, and she thumped one end down on the floor as she examined the newcomers – two incubi, a schir, a babau, an oolidroo, and a sleepy-looking vavakia.
The vavakia in particular caught Juniper's attention, firstly because he looked nothing like as aggressive as a typical vavakia – mostly looking at his feet, then making a shy sort of noise as he noticed Juniper looking – and secondly because there was a huge crystal stuck in his chest and several smaller ones breaking out through his skin.
A mythic demon, enhanced by a Nahyndrian crystal… but, while that might have made this some kind of strike team sent out by Hepzamirah, nothing else about them fitted. It was only one mythic demon and a group of others, they didn't show any immediate reaction to Juniper's presence… and then the lead incubus began speaking.
"Shut up, everyone!" he said. "And get on the ground! On your stomachs! Turn out your pockets. Perhaps we'll settle for taking your gold and spare your lives… but you, my sweet morsel, will be leaving with us. In pieces."
The incubus leader wasn't even looking at Juniper, disregarding her as irrelevant to the situation beyond a quick bit of money. He was looking at Latverk.
"So… who are you, exactly?" Juniper asked, noticing the slight tension around her as her companions prepared for the possibility of violence. Nothing major or overt, but then again they didn't really need to.
The lead demon spat on the floor, then grinned. "We're the best in the assassin guild. Mess with us and we'll mess you up!"
He pointed a crooked finger at Latverk. "This aasimar misfit has made a certain someone very angry. So angry that they put a large bounty on his head. Which is why we're going to gut him, festoon this dismal hovel with garlands made of his entrails, then play ball with his stupid little noggin."
"Um," Aivu said, frowning, and looked at Latverk before turning back to the demon. "I don't think his noggin is very little and I don't think it'd make a good ball for a ball game. What kind of ball game are you thinking of?"
"What?" the incubus asked, thrown. "I… don't know?"
"It'd have to be a game where you carry the ball, I think," Aivu said, thoughtfully, then shook her head. "Wait, what am I saying, this is a horrible topic! Don't talk about play when it's something that disgusting!"
"I'm actually curious about the vavakia," Juniper admitted. "He doesn't seem particularly typical of vakavia."
"Oh, this?" the incubus asked. "This here's our Gouger! We found him in the sewers beneath Alushinyrra, barely breathing."
He laughed. "We were going to cut his throat, but he's so addled, he's tame enough. And mighty strong! Someone must have scrambled his brains real hard… now everybody knows not to screw with us – or we wake Gouger up and then they're done for!"
The glance the incubus shot at Gouger was more revealing than he probably hoped, since it combined pride and wariness.
Juniper wasn't exactly surprised, admittedly. The vavakia was by far the most physically powerful member of their little gang, and if he'd been right in the head – for a demon – he'd have been very much in charge. Instead, it sounded like Gouger had been a subject of Areelu's transmutation process, which had gone wrong somehow, and he'd either fled or been dumped in the sewers.
That might have been an indicator of where to start looking for Hepzamirah's base of operations, but… no, it simply wasn't a good enough starting point.
"So, come on!" the incubus added. "Now you know, so don't screw with us! Hand over the money and get lost!"
Greybor made a deliberate move which made one of his axes clink, and he shook his head.
"I'm being threatened by rabble who call themselves assassins?" he asked.
"Technically, I think they called themselves assassin," Juniper noted. "As in, the assassin guild."
Greybor snorted slightly. "In Daggermark, not even a three-year-old child would be fooled by this. It's an unbearable professional insult. Killing them is a matter of principle."
"But, uh," Woljif began, not really able to take his eyes away from Gouger. "Uncle Greybor, what if they are… well… real assassins? They look pretty menacing to me."
"I'd say they want to look menacing," Greybor corrected. "They're trying too hard, and it betrays a lack of confidence… a hardened cutthroat wouldn't wildly wave his blade about. He draws steel only to spill blood. You need nothing more than a cold voice and a steady gaze to intimidate… watch."
He gave the demons a chilling look, speaking in a deceptively calm voice. "So, fellas. You say you're assassins. I trust you know real killers for hire don't take kindly to useless fools like you who toss the word around?"
Every single one of the 'assassin' looked crestfallen, except Gouger, who mostly looked curious.
"You're done for, you idiots!" Woljif said, all his pep returned. "You shouldn't have made Uncle Greybor angry!"
He made a rude gesture, then tensed, and Juniper managed to contain her amusem*nt as she realized Woljif was ready to dive behind Greybor.
"You're not assassins," she summarized, instead. "You're just common rabble… right?"
She folded her arms. "Because if you were proper assassins, then the first thing you'd do would be to evaluate the threat environment. And in this case, the threat environment includes… well, a dragon, a 'neather, and an eight-tailed kitsune covered in golden dust. You boys don't attend the Battlebliss, much, do you?"
Over the course of a few seconds, demonic bravado turned into nervous glances.
"...well…" the incubus began, embarrassed. "Maybe not assassins per se, but it sounds more intimidating. Fools get so scared when they hear it, we don't even have to shank them. But you, missus, you're no fool, that much I can see – folks, let's not bother the nice lady, we'll just, turn around and be on our merry way?"
Juniper let them sweat for a moment, then raised an eyebrow.
"Who hired you?" she asked.
"We don't know her name," the incubus admitted. "Everybody calls her Red Mask because that's what she always wears. We have no idea who or what she is beneath the mask. She sits in the Bad Luck all day, guzzling booze like there's no tomorrow…"
The incubus paused, scrabbling for something else to say. "She's not a demon, I know that much, some kind of outsider. One of yours, Golarians or something. But she's got an edge to her, and her mask is scary as anything."
"You don't need to worry," Ember said, and everyone looked at her. She was speaking specifically to Gouger, smiling at him, and he was smiling back in a shy sort of way.
"You don't have to fight if you don't want to," she told the vavakia, patting him on the side of the muzzle. "It's your choice."
"I think that's a good summary," Juniper said. "I suggest you leave."
The demons seemed to be even more unnerved by Ember's actions than anything else, and left as quickly as they'd entered.
"Oh – oh, dear!" Latverk said, his emotions finally breaking through to the surface as the demon thugs left, and clasped his hands in a gesture of prayer. "I beg you, please protect me! Unless she is stopped, Red Mask will get to me – and, even worse, to my wards! I do not fear death, but these girls must not be hurt again. I cannot put an end to Red Mask's depravity – but you can! I appeal to your mercy! Find her and stop her once and for all!"
Juniper frowned. "Who is this Red Mask, exactly?"
"I haven't the slightest idea," Latverk replied. "No doubt some villain, displeased by my attempts to save my kin from slavery… perhaps a dark soul that revels in crime and the suffering it brings. I have never met this creature before."
Juniper wasn't so sure. It sounded like Latverk was a little too familiar with the concept of Red Mask as a name… but she needed information to be sure, and there was a way to get that. And either way, Red Mask had sent assassins after Latverk.
It wouldn't even take long to check in on the Bad Luck.
"It seems I can't even consider putting the pleasure slaves up here, unless this is resolved," she said. "I have other business, but I'll look into it."
Latverk smiled weakly. "You have a generous and courageous heart! I will be praying for your success."
"Yeah, this is your mistake," Lann said. "I'm all for the idea that praying can help, but look at Sosiel! He's a cleric, and he's armed."
"It's people who make themselves strong, not gods," Ember said. "Sarenrae won't help you."
"That's going a bit far, isn't it?" Sosiel asked. "We can avoid asking the gods for everything while still accepting that they can help in some things. My magic comes from Shelyn, and that fact helps me out."
Ember shook her head. "It's… gods are just people. Why do people give them more of a chance?"
"Greater scope for making impactful decisions means that you have to be more careful," Juniper said. "Though there's good approaches and bad ones. I certainly think Baphomet could do with being significantly less pushy about his faith…"
The Ten Thousand Delights, on arrival, turned out to still be shut.
"Is this you not letting us in because you remember me?" Juniper asked. "Or is it that nobody's allowed in?"
"Nobody is allowed in!" the door replied. "The Ten Thousand Delights is closed."
It giggled. "Of course, I also hold a bit of a grudge, but since I hear Lady Chivarro fled after talking to you I'm not exactly going to press the issue! Just know that a door like myself is entirely willing to let you in in future… otherwise you might bring that other kitsune back."
"So we ain't going to get in?" Woljif asked. "That's a shame."
Juniper was frowning.
"While I know you're not willing to let anyone in, can you take messages?" she asked. "I'm curious about whether the Ten Thousand Delights would find out about an absolute emergency elsewhere in the city."
"Oh, a fine question!" the door said, ingratiatingly. "And yes, I do take messages, if you have any?"
"Not at the moment," Juniper answered. "Just wondering."
She flicked an ear. "How is Herrax doing, by the way? I saw her in the Fleshmarket a few days ago."
"Candidly, she's the favourite to win the new position of madam," the door said, in the tones of an incorrigible gossip. "Though it's not sorted out yet, of course, or I'm sure you'd already be inside!"
Juniper nodded, thinking.
Herrax was fairly frugal, at least from what Juniper had seen, which was…
...interesting.
There might be some possibilities there. One madam was much the same as another, as far as she was concerned, but having the one who was now in power grateful – or even owing her a small debt – could be an advantage.
It was something to think about, though, not rush into.
"Then let's head to the Bad Luck," Juniper decided. "And I'll send a message for Seelah to be there, as well."
"You think you might need her?" Wenduag asked.
"I think I'll either need her to drag Woljif back to the Nexus or I'll need her to replace Greybor," Juniper replied. "And I haven't decided which, not yet."
"Aw, come on," Woljif protested.
"Seelah knows your tricks," Juniper pointed out. "Well, most of them at least, I can't think of one you've pulled that she didn't already know."
When they reached the Bad Luck, after a quick journey through Alushinyrra's portal system, Seelah was just turning around to face the tavern's portal archway.
"Oh, hey, look who it is!" the paladin said, with a chuckle. "And Woljif, what a pleasant surprise."
"Yeah, yeah," Woljif said, shaking his head. "I get it, I get it, the Boss made the point about how I'd screwed up… I don't need you to get on my case as well."
Seelah laughed. "Woljif, you wouldn't be you if you didn't need a reminder every now and then," she said.
Now the thiefling looked puzzled. "...wait, is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"It's a thing," Juniper suggested. "It's nothing to be worried about, anyway… Seelah, I assume you left Regill or Yaniel in charge?"
"Regill, told him he'd have to confirm any major decisions with you or me," Seelah agreed. "Yaniel and Berenguer went out to hunt for demons, doing their own thing, like we discussed."
"Oh, sure, they get to go out and do their own thing," Woljif said. "Made your mind up yet, boss?"
"Not quite," Juniper replied. "But almost. First… I want to see what Red Mask has to say."
"Who's that, now?" Seelah asked.
"She hired assassins to go after an aasimar by the name of Latverk," Juniper answered. "And I was told she usually drinks in this very tavern."
"How interesting," Camellia said.
Juniper glanced up, spotting the half-elf standing at the bar. "Camellia – I'm surprised to see you here."
"When I heard the purpose of Seelah's departure, I thought it would be the most helpful thing to do," Camellia replied. "If you're undecided about having Woljif with you, then it only makes sense for me to offer my help in the fields we both specialize in."
She smiled, slightly. "You don't mind, I hope, my friend?"
"I suppose not," Juniper conceded, looking out over the tavern floor, then nodded slightly. "To me, that looks like a woman in a red mask…"
"So, what's the plan?" Greybor checked.
"Try and find out what's going on, first of all," Juniper replied. "If she's after Latverk – why Latverk? It might be something where there's a way of working it out… we just don't know enough."
The woman was sitting at a table, examining the cloudy contents of a glass that was scarcely less cloudy than the drink inside it. Her mask covered her face from the upper lip all the way to the top of her head with only two small holes for eyes – and there was something about the way it sat on her face that didn't quite look right.
"Get lost," she said, as Juniper approached. "I'm not looking for drinking companions."
"Nor am I," Juniper replied. "I'm after answers, instead."
"I doubt I can give you any," the woman said, shortly. "Since they won't be any of your business."
"We'll see," Juniper said. "Firstly… you, I take it, are Red Mask."
Woljif chuckled. "Yeah, that's a pretty sharp deduction there, boss!"
"Good, you've got the right person," Red Mask said. "This is the part where you leave."
"I don't think so," Juniper replied. "I have to ask – why did you send assassins after Latverk?"
Red Mask smiled grimly, then took off her mask.
Beneath… Juniper was fairly sure that she was an aasimar. There were subtleties of feature which the mask had concealed, that had stopped her making the determination before now… but a face that had previously been classically beautiful had been disfigured, by terrible scars.
It looked like she'd been flayed.
"That wretch deserves the worst death imaginable," Red Mask declared. "When the demons abducted and enslaved me, Latverk bought me and my fellow captives. I thought myself saved, but I was wrong."
Aivu gasped, slightly.
"The worst was yet to come," Red Mask went on. "The things he did to us… I cannot describe them. He destroyed our bodies and our souls, acting out the worst of the filthy, perverse desires in his sick mind…"
"Shelyn," Sosiel breathed.
"It was a miracle I managed to escape, but – not one of Shelyn's, I think," Red Mask said.
"I…" Sosiel began, looking troubled. "I was going to say that it was possible, but I think… no, I don't know."
Juniper glanced at Ember, but she didn't seem to have anything to add.
"So how come you're still here?" Woljif burst out. "In the Abyss? If there's someone like that who…"
He shook his head, swallowing.
"I could have left," Red Mask agreed. "But… it feels as if Latverk has sown the seeds of his madness in my soul. I refuse to spread his sickness to other places, happier places. Let his evil perish here, in the Abyss, utterly and without a trace."
"I… don't know," Juniper said. "And by that, I mean – I think that leaving the Abyss might give your soul a chance to recover. But it's your choice."
"She does not lie," the Hand said, his voice trembling with anger. "Her heart aches with a desire for retribution. Latverk is a liar and a traitor, and he must answer for his misdeeds. Champion, we must go back and see that he faces justice for his crimes."
Seelah groaned.
"How can an aasimar do such monstrous things?" she asked.
"Oh, yeah, of course!" Woljif said. "Because everyone knows aasimars and paladins are always noble and brave, and tieflings and thieves are all untrustworthy scum! D'you know what that's called? Prejudice, that's what!"
He folded his arms. "And then you get poor tieflings strung up from the nearest lamp post for stealin', when all that happened was that the purse got left at home. Un-bloody-believable."
"That's not it," Seelah said. "It's – ah, how do I put this?"
She punched one gauntleted fist into the palm of the other hand, producing a clang. "Tieflings do have it hard, Woljif, but that's what I'm trying to say! It's, not exactly a good thing if a tiefling turns to a cult or does something like that, but I can at least understand it because they didn't have a lot of choices that others have. But an aasimar has all kinds of advantage in comparison. They have it easier. So it's more of a choice."
Woljif looked mulish, then sighed.
"Yeah, I get what you're getting at," he conceded. "Still think it shouldn't be that much of a surprise, though… never thought I'd say this, but at least ol' Reggie is suspicious of everyone, includin' himself."
Red Mask softened slightly.
"Latverk has learned to conceal his true nature," she said. "If you were taken in, you would not be the first. None of us suspected him, either."
"It's terrible," Ember said, her eyes full of tears. "What he did to you…"
"Am I not pretty enough for you?" Red Mask asked, grinning. "Are you afraid? I'll never be called a beauty again, I know."
"No, it's not about beauty," Ember objected. "Or, anything else he stole from you… it's what he gave you. He shared his pain with you, and it took root and grew. There is a thorny tangle of suffering in your heart, and you are impaled on its spikes."
Juniper caught sight of Wenduag looking very uncomfortable at that.
"It's not… irreversible, right?" the 'neather asked. "Or is this one of those times when you have to forgive someone who's done something horrible?"
"It's one of those times when it needs care and attention," Juniper replied. "Forgiveness might be part of that healing process, but – I don't think it's mandatory. Everyone's situation is different."
"A murderous lunatic hiding behind a facade of generous and selfless virtue," Camellia said. "How… trite."
"What have you done, since escaping?" Juniper asked. "Obviously you hired some rather poor assassins to try and kill Latverk."
"I have walked the path of vengeance," Red Mask said, and now there was passion in her voice. "Calistra, patron goddess of all who have been wronged, has shown me I must dedicate myself to this path. I am the retribution that stalks villains in the night, paints the darkness red, and makes the streets ring with their pitiful screams as I end their miserable lives."
She looked up at Juniper. "So… now you know, what will you do?"
"We need to stop Latverk," Juniper said. "Rescue the others who he took prisoner… is that something you'll be involved with?"
"Yes," Red Mask confirmed. "Yes, I will. Go there – I'll be waiting. Say I'm dead, if that's what it takes to get him to open the door."
She stood, walking to the archway with a confident stride, and left with a flash of magic.
"I'm guessing we're going there as well?" Woljif asked.
"Not all of us," Juniper replied. "I've been thinking this over… Woljif, unless you have a strong reason to be around when we confront Latverk, or if you've changed your mind on the necessity, I'd say now would be a good time to head out into the city – with Greybor's help, of course."
"Huh?" Woljif asked. "I mean… sure! I can do that – you'll see!"
"Just watch your back," Greybor advised. "I'll be watching it as well, but if I help you out then people are going to know I might be there in future."
"Right, right, got it," Woljif confirmed. "Act like you ain't there."
Juniper frowned, slightly. "In addition, if we're successful in rescuing the other aasimar women then… Seelah, you're going to need to be ready to handle some traumatized prisoners. In fact, since we need the archway anyway, the rest of us should just head back to our camp and set things up, before I take a strike team back to the Middle City. I imagine Daeran would like to be present, come to that…"
A journey through the Nexus to get back to the Fleshmarkets took only a few minutes, even with swapping out members of her team, and Juniper followed the same route as before.
"As I suspected," Regill noted, as they moved along a street.
"You do have a habit of suspecting everyone, my dear gnome," Daeran pointed out. "And while that certainly fits with your personality and chosen career, one downside is that it's terribly hard to say 'I told you so' with a straight face."
"Suspecting everyone saves time," Regill stated.
"For you, perhaps," Daeran replied, then frowned a little. "Though, in this case, I do concede that your suspicion was entirely founded."
He sighed. "I suppose it's only to be expected, really. Who'd voluntarily come to the Abyss to do anything good?"
The Hand of the Inheritor coughed.
"I believe I would qualify," he said.
"...I'm not having a good day, am I?" Daeran said. "I'm conceding left and right. Perhaps I'll have to pre-emptively lose the next argument and get it out of my system."
After a moment of silence, Aivu spoke up.
"I think I deserve an extra sweetie when we get back to the Nexus!" she said. "You can lose that argument?"
"Oh?" Daeran asked, amused. "And what would you deserve that sweetie for, delightful child?"
"Outsmarting you?" Aivu suggested. "This is an argument but you, um, you decided to lose it?"
Daeran chuckled. "Oh, how clever of you… ah! But if I don't, then surely that means you don't deserve an extra sweetie?"
Aivu looked troubled, trying to work that out.
"So… if I win, I win," she said. "But if I lose… I lose?"
She shook her head. "I prefer winning."
"Most people do," Juniper said, then looked around for a moment.
If Red Mask was nearby, she couldn't see any sign… but the aasimar had seemed entirely confident.
She knocked on Latverk's door, and after a long moment the aasimar opened it.
He was holding a dagger, and Juniper glanced down to check it – she couldn't help herself – before realizing that, yes, the dagger was clean.
It hadn't been used recently.
"Did you stop her?" Latverk asked, his voice trembling and his face pale. "Is Red Mask still a threat to us?"
Juniper shook her head.
"She's not still a threat to us," she said. "But as for you…
She changed Finnean into a quarterstaff, sliding him into the door opening. "Latverk, I've heard about your tastes."
"You mean – what do you mean?" Latverk said, his voice catching. "Has Red Mask lied to you?"
"I doubt it," Juniper replied. "You see, what she said made entirely too much sense… and it made sense of your soul fitting in perfectly well with the Abyss."
Latverk tried to close the door, and Juniper forced it open, sending the aasimar staggering backwards into his entrance hall.
It was still a new experience, having that much raw physical strength from her belt, but Juniper was quite willing to exploit it.
"It's not my fault!" Latverk burst out, suddenly. "I did not want this weakness! But it gnaws at me from the inside! I know what I'm doing is wrong, but there is nothing I can do to stop myself!"
He searched Juniper's face for pity. "I swear, I was kind to those girls the rest of the time! It was I who saved them!"
"There are plenty of things you could do to stop yourself," Juniper said, folding her arms. "Just as two examples – one, ask for help in one of the upper planes; two, send the women away to safety. You're making excuses, and – worse – those excuses don't hold water."
"You made a mistake, Latverk," Camellia added, her tone dry and cruel… and perhaps a little bit sad. "You let yourself get caught. That is why you deserve no mercy."
"But…" Latverk began, sputtering. "If I – my girls would have been worse off if I hadn't! They would have been eaten!"
"And you tried to persuade me to bring you more victims," Juniper pointed out. "You were at pains to present yourself as a virtuous man, taking care of the women who you considered to be too weak to look after themselves. This is what I mean when I say there were things you could do to stop yourself – instead, you lied to try and get more victims. You put effort into becoming more of a problem."
"Such ostentatious virtue is suspicious," Regill said. "Especially in a setting as incongruous as the Abyss. That was my first thought."
He adjusted his grip on his hooked hammer – not threateningly, just casually. "Let this be a lesson to us all – anyone can turn out to be a traitor."
"Do you really think so, Regill?" Camellia asked. "That anyone can betray? Even your comrades-in-arms?"
"Anyone means anyone," Regill stated. "Up to and including myself, though I believe I would hold out longer than most. Even under torture and magic intended to break my will."
"Let's not lose sight of the facts here," Juniper said. "We're not dealing with someone who was forced into doing what he's doing… Arueshalae began as a demon, in a demon's culture, where her worst impulses were reinforced. And yes, it was hard to break out of that – I don't think she'd deny that, or say anything to the contrary."
"No," Arueshalae agreed, softly. "It's been so difficult."
"But she has been trying," Juniper went on. "You, meanwhile, started out somewhere else. If your inner desires truly did conflict with what you intellectually wanted, you had every opportunity to go somewhere, do something, to prevent your desires winning. Instead – you've indulged them."
"There is a wound festering in your soul," Ember told Latverk, who flinched slightly. "It hurts, but you cannot share this pain with anyone or your friends would turn away. Which is why you… set out to make friends yourself. But this isn't true friendship. You are still lonely, and still hurting. I feel very sorry for you."
"You feel sorry for him?" Daeran asked. "I don't. I've done some quite unpleasant things in my time but I've never got close to that. This deviant makes me seem almost benign in comparison – I loathe coming second to anyone."
"You're hurting too," Ember said, in what sounded a lot like reassurance. "I feel sorry for you, too."
"The wound in his soul, as you put it, is beyond healing," Regill said. "This case calls for total excision."
He glanced at Latverk, who looked very scared, then back at Ember. "If you must pity someone, pity his victims."
"I feel sorry for them, of course," Ember replied. "I feel sorry for everyone."
Daeran chuckled, then turned to Juniper. "Shall we kill him?"
If Juniper hadn't been paying attention, watching in case Latverk did something, she'd have missed it. There was a whisper of shadow magic, and then Red Mask dropped from the rafters overhead.
She landed in front of Latverk, making his face turn an ashen colour, and pointed at him. "The hour of retribution is at hand, scum! You will pay for each and every one of your crimes!"
Latverk screamed, and bolted through a hidden door.
"Quick!" Juniper called, moving forwards to follow him down the stairs behind the door.
"May evil never go unpunished," the Hand said, in what might have been a prayer.
At the bottom of the stairs, there was a room with smears of blood on the walls, and various torture equipment. Tools, collars, cages, an iron maiden… an adjustable noose, to hold the victim high enough that they struggled to breathe… and four aasimar women, wearing very little if they were wearing anything at all.
Latverk had reached them as Juniper came through the door, and he glanced back and forth in panic.
"My little birds!" he said, desperate. "Protect me from this vermin! They've come to enslave you once again!"
"Latverk is lying," Juniper replied, recognizing some of the faces – these were the same downtrodden aasimar women who'd been outside when Latverk had first caught Juniper's attention. "You heard him lie to me outside, and try to get me to bring more victims. I sent them back to my camp instead."
There was a long moment of silence.
"How… how do we know you're telling the truth?" one of the women asked, eventually, her voice quiet.
Latverk's muscles tensed, as if he wanted to act, but apparently he decided that whatever kind of response he could make to that would have been worse than nothing.
"You have a succubus with you," the aasimar woman added. "And that gnome with the armour, he's… scary."
"You don't know," Juniper said. "I don't have a way to prove it to you. But you do know that Latverk tried to lie to me and trick me, because you were right there when he did it."
She paused.
"I won't lie, and say the camp is perfect," she said. "It's not. There's a lot of people there, packed into quite a small space. There would probably be work, though it wouldn't be very demanding in light of your injured conditions. If you were only comfortable with aasimar women, then I think I could organize that. And… you'd be able to talk to other people, if you wanted. But – it wouldn't be luxury. It'd just be… better than this. And you would not be slaves."
"Not at all!" Aivu agreed, and all the aasimar women startled – probably at Aivu's extremely young voice. "I know there'd be chores, and that's, um, bleah, but that's just because if nobody does anything then everyone ends up sitting around surrounded by dirty plates wondering when someone else is going to bring the food, right?"
She flicked an ear. "At least, that's what – um – Sings-Brightly said when she told me how chores worked!"
"Is that your name?" the woman said. "It's… a strange name."
"One of many," Juniper replied. "I have trouble keeping track myself, sometimes, it's like tails. You turn around too much and you've got one more than you had before."
That won her a startled little laugh.
"You can't think-" Latverk began. "She's – she's lying to you! She will only enslave you again! Haven't I been kind to you?"
Red Mask laughed, stepping out from behind Juniper, then took off her mask.
"This is what your kindness looks like, Latverk, you scum," she said. "As someone who was once held captive in this house-"
"No!" Latverk said. "She's lying! They're all lying! Only I can keep you safe!"
"If this is safety-" another one of the women said, half-flinched as she looked at Latverk, then her shoulders shifted a little.
"If this is safety, then I choose danger," she declared. "Even the demons wouldn't ask us to feel grateful for what they did."
Once it had been said, all the other aasimar women began moving forwards, and Latverk trembled – then began an abortive attempt to lash out with a dagger.
Red Mask struck out at him, then stopped the moment he did, and her voice husked.
"Please," she said. "Oh, please. Do just a little more… I want you to do it knowing that your own lack of self-control is the reason for your death."
Latverk stared at her, then his gaze flicked up to Juniper.
"I'm begging you, spare me!" he pleaded, desperately. "This disgusting trait, this addiction, it makes me hate myself! I was weak, but – I swear – I will no longer allow my weakness to harm anyone else! Bring me to justice if you wish, but spare me from her vengeance!"
Arueshalae gasped.
"You – the blood of heaven runs in your veins," she said, her voice a mixture of indignation and a little bitterness. "While I – while others break themselves striving to be better, nobler, brighter, you… all those things were given to you by fate! And this is how you squandered the blessing you were born with? This is…"
For a moment, it seemed she couldn't find the words.
"This is worse than mere folly, this is blasphemy," she said. "How dare you?"
"Yes, yes," Daeran said, abruptly. "He is a traitor, a blasphemer, and irredeemable scum – stop lecturing him, and do what it is you want to do. Remember that you are a demon. Turn his final moments into rapturous agony."
He made a gesture. "We can see that you are eager, so please – go ahead. No one will judge you, and he doesn't deserve an easy passing."
Arueshalae's mouth worked for a moment.
"No!" she said. "No, I am not going to do that!"
Her hands trembled. "I hate him. In him, I see – I see someone who has struggled to do their worst, who has taken the quest for redemption that has consumed my last several years and turned it into mockery, who has been trying to become as foul as they could be. Like-"
Arueshalae stopped, cutting off what she was going to say, and her voice lowered. "I promised I would change," she said. "I don't want to be like him."
"Then – you want me safe!" Latverk said, desperately. "I-"
Red Mask interrupted him.
"Doesn't this tell you everything about him?" she asked.
"It tells me a lot," Juniper agreed. "A good person can't expect clemency from a bad person, but a bad person can expect it from someone who's good…"
She frowned, considering.
Summary justice was a possibility, and there was no question of proof here… the idea of forgiveness crossed her mind, bringing with it a pulse which carried the idea of flying on dragon's wings, but forgiveness didn't seem right.
Red Mask was correct, on that. Latverk wasn't someone who would truly repent – his hysterical demands for mercy were his trying to get out of a situation through any means possible.
A simmering idea of justice delivered as punishment crossed her mind, then, of taking laws and twisting them to achieve her ends by the letter rather than the spirit. And of ensuring that he would regret it, as well…
...but she couldn't quite put together how to achieve it, and a moment later the idea of poetic justice sent her off onto another track.
A much more amusing track.
"So you regret what happened, do you?" Caitrin asked, idly flicking Finnean in dueling-sword form and knocking the dagger out of Latverk's hands. "I hope you do."
"Yes, of course!" Latverk said, clutching at her words like a drowning man offered a rope. "I regret it, I only did it because I had to, because I was forced to by my own urges! I will never do it again!"
Caitrin nodded, understandingly, and her paws tingled a little. "Oh, naturally. You were forced into it, after all. Simply being in proximity to a beautiful woman, you couldn't help yourself. Wouldn't you say that's true?"
"What are you talking about?" Red Mask asked, glancing at Caitrin, then noticed the damask mask. "...you weren't wearing that before."
"Yes, it's true!" Latverk agreed. "You must understand, I was as kind as I could be to my wards – I kept them safe and only did what was necessary! They – they're better off than they would have been, you must realize that!"
"I would say that I don't think anyone could believe this, but then I remember who we are currently dealing with," Regill grumbled.
Daeran chuckled.
"Oh, Paralictor, Paralictor, Paralictor," he said, tutting. "Why not put your faith in Caitrin? I know I'm considering it, and I'm not a religious man."
"Yes, I must realize it," Caitrin agreed, brightly. "And I do! So, to make sure we're clear about all this, you couldn't help yourself around an aasimar woman, and occasionally abusing them was a fair price to pay for their subsequent survival, no matter what your appetites might have driven you to do. And, furthermore, you came to the Abyss as a place where you fit in, and so it's what passes for justice in the Abyss which you want to accept."
"I… suppose so," Latverk said, confused for a moment. "What do you mean?"
"Well, it seems quite simple to me," Caitrin replied. "But let's go over the details – you rescued these women from a deadly fate and showed them compassion, regardless of course of the fact that they would eventually die from what you were doing to them – the fact that you showed them a few extra weeks or even days of life makes you merciful. And of course, you understand that the way someone behaves to a beautiful, helpless aasimar woman – which means, in your own reckoning, all aasimar women – is something that you believe people can't be rightly criticized for. Especially not when it's you."
She sheathed Finnean on her belt, and stretched out her paws, lacing them together and pushing them away from her before flexing all her fingers individually. "I think that covers most of it."
"...oh!" Daeran laughed. "I think I see what's going on."
"What is?" Latverk asked. "What's going on?"
"Oh, it's simple enough," Caitrin replied. "You see, I could let you go but then you'd have just the same sort of problem with Red Mask as before, and of course in addition to that you'd have the extra problem that you'd have nowhere to go, as now she's got the chance to destroy your magical defences. So I'm going to solve both problems at once by both making sure that you're unrecognizable and giving you a place to go at the same 're getting the benefit of witless protection."
She clapped her paws together, and a multicoloured swirl of magic rained down on the murderous aasimar.
And, when it faded, there was a young aasimar woman standing there. She bore a passing resemblance to the former villain, but whatever strength had let Latverk overpower his victims was gone.
A moment later, the woman gasped and swooned into a faint.
Red Mask was silent for a time, then her voice trembled with glee as she spoke.
"This is an entirely fitting punishment," she said. "I was not mistaken when I entrusted this mission to you."
"Do let Herrax know that this particular consignment is with the compliments of the Golarian eight-tail," Caitrin advised. "She'll know what that means."
"Oh, I like your style!" Red Mask said, refastening her eponymous mask. "Now, you will take care of these young women, and I will take my leave. This corrupt city is full of scum whose wrongdoings remain unpunished. I will bring retribution to each and every one of them!"
She reached down, lifting the new form of Latverk by the arm. "Starting, of course, with this one."
Aivu was looking a bit uneasy, as Red Mask left with her captive.
"Are you sure this is okay?" she asked.
"Not at all," Caitrin replied. "It's not okay. Nor was what Latverk did to his victims – but this way, at least, the one who's suffering thoroughly deserves it!"
She relaxed, and Juniper shrugged. "And… from a purely pragmatic basis, it advances our mission. We need someone in charge of the Ten Thousand Delights, after all, and as we already saw and heard Herrax was in the running – and if this tips the balance, she will be grateful to us."
"If I could argue with the result, I would," Regill muttered. "I can only argue with the methods."
"Still…" Aivu said, looking pensive. "I guess if he'd actually attacked us then we'd have fought back and probably killed him… but it doesn't seem right."
She shook her head. "No, that's… not what… it's something else. It's that, he did something wrong and he's getting punished in the same way, so it's, right in that way, like a jigsaw puzzle. But it feels like we should be better than him."
"I understand what you mean, Aivu," Juniper assured her. "That was one of the more… cruel jokes, yes."
She looked around at the aasimar women. "We should get these unfortunates back to the Nexus, I think. As unpleasant as Latverk was, we can't trust the idea that the magical defences of this place would hold out at all – that could have just been another bluff…"
When they got back to the Nexus, Juniper took the time to get the newly freed aasimar settled in.
With their collection of traumas from being trapped by Latverk, it seemed that none of them were quite ready to spend any extended amount of time around the general body of refugees. Fortunately, with the other aasimar who Latverk had told them about in the first place, there was somewhere to put them – and some delicate questions revealed that two of Latverk's victims were both capable of sewing and willing to help out the enclave that way.
It was something that didn't require them to spend much time interacting with others, and all those brief interactions were in an environment surrounded by people they were more willing to trust.
Once that was done, though, Juniper went off to the side of one of the cliffs, overlooking Ishiar, and the Hand followed her.
"Forgive my intrusion, Champion, if this is not what you would wish," he said. "But it seemed to me that you sought reflection."
"If I was looking for reflection, there's a shiny crystal in the main cave," Juniper said, then shrugged. "But, yes, I wouldn't mind your advice."
"That is good to hear," the Hand said.
There was a long moment of silence, as Juniper thought.
"A lot of me have different opinions about what happened," she said, eventually. "I think many of my facets are going to have to work it out themselves… there are some things which just don't get worked out by hearing about someone else talking about it. It's to do with… mindset, or just the fact that the person is talking."
"I believe I understand the idea, Champion," the Hand stated. "Though I must ask… are those other facets of yours individuals? It is a topic that perplexes me."
"It's a bit confusing for me, as well," Juniper replied. "I think… the tricky thing about it all is that they all have personalities, and those are… like variations on a theme, perhaps? Like myself if I had a different life, down to being born a different species. But I can't be sure, because even with all these examples… how can I spot the variations? There's so much difference between someone who grew up in Mendev as a half-elf and someone who grew up on the road as a kitsune, and both of those are different to someone who grew up in Brevoy as a human swordlord."
She groaned, lying back on the strange rock of the abyssal island. "And then there's the fact that I don't remember my own past, before Kenabres… but I think the way to put it is that they feel… defined enough to have opinions. And they've changed. I think… I actually think it's Caitrin who has the strongest example of that, because she was a lot more serious once."
Then the kitsune sorceress shrugged. "But is that unusual? Was that always what Caitrin could be like? People can change a lot in a short period of time if they have a moment of personal revelation."
"Forgive me, I am not yet entirely familiar with the names," the Hand said, taking a seat next to her. "Caitrin would be…?"
"...the one with the damask mask, yes," Juniper confirmed. "The one who did that to Latverk. And it's… something about it feels off, relative to what she normally does, but I don't think I quite have it yet. I don't think she knows."
"The two are different?" the Hand checked.
"It's a bit… more complicated than that, even," Juniper said. "I know most things that my facets know, but knowledge is never pure facts, and someone else with the same information can make a different deduction. It's… difficult to come up with an analogy, but one that might offer insight is the concept of a legal persona."
The Hand tilted his helmed head, in a way which was probably polite interest.
"Even before considering my facets, there's – me, Juniper Goldeneyes," Juniper tried to explain. "And there's Commander Juniper of the Fifth Crusade. And there are some things which the persona of the Commander might have to take official notice of, if she knew them – but the person, Juniper Goldeneyes, can just brush off. It happens but it's not important in that sense."
"I believe I understand," the Hand said. "At least, I understand in this context. There is having the information available if you look for it, and there is having already thought about it, so it is part of not merely your knowledge but your memory."
"Exactly," Juniper agreed. "And there can be the reverse, as well, where I'm sure something is in my memory until I try to think of what that thing actually is. But I know enough about the ways that mortal memory plays tricks to know that that, at least, is nothing unusual. It's just not normally applied to things like – who my parents were. I know I'm descended from a gold dragon, I've always known it as long as I can remember, but… I don't know how I know. And my memories only go back as far as Kenabres."
She shook herself. "Sorry, I'm going off on tangents. I actually had a question I wanted to ask you."
"Feel free, Champion!" the Hand said, kindly. "And I do not begrudge you any of what I have heard."
"I'm afraid the topics aren't going to get any less heavy," Juniper apologized. "Because it's about… what Caitrin did to Latverk. And the difference between justice and vengeance – and pragmatism."
There was a silence, as the Hand absorbed that.
"I will give my opinion, if you wish, but I would hear your thoughts first," he said.
"Right," Juniper agreed. "So part of the issue is, how do you define justice in the Abyss? What Latverk did deserved punishment of some sort, I don't think there's any debate about that, unless you hold that the wicked should be rewarded. But at what point does justice shade into vengeance?"
Juniper flicked a tail, then another, and ran the second one through her paws as she thought.
"And then there's the question of what you think the preferred outcome should be," she went on. "Is punishment meant to reform someone, or to discourage others? Is it meant to prevent the person from offending again, or is it to salve the wounds of the people who were affected? Does the same punishment become less correct if it's done for different reasons?"
"These are deep topics indeed, Champion!" the Hand said. "And what do you think about it?"
Juniper was silent for a moment.
"I think there should have been a better solution," she said. "Latverk was – I could see it, it wasn't hard to read. His profession of repentance was because he wanted a way out of the situation. Letting him continue had no chance of offering benefit, and – and if someone is going to actually turn away from wrongdoing, they need to be sincere about it."
It wasn't like Camellia, where the evaluation of her actions was all based around the prospect of healing Sarkoris.
"And yet," Juniper went on, partly prompted by that thought. "What happened did inflict punishment on the guilty, and may even have reduced the pressure on the innocent. If you view things in terms of what a punishment achieves, it's a positive… but that isn't the only consideration."
The Hand nodded, one hand coming to his chin.
"I think… I cannot offer you reassurance," he said. "Except in that the actions that were taken with respect to Latverk were not the injustice that would consist of letting him go free, or of putting him into a formal trial in this place where we cannot be at all sure that justice would be served by it."
"If we could even manage it," Juniper muttered. "I think all the other alternatives that aren't obviously wrong essentially amount to just deciding who kills him – whether it should be myself or one of my companions, or Red Mask, or even the prisoners who he kept…"
She exhaled. "And yet, something about it feels… discordant. Not just in actions but in that it was Caitrin who did it… I don't know who I feel would be more likely to take that decision, but I feel like there's something I was missing. Maybe an option that I should have taken, but didn't see at the time and still can't parse."
They sat there in silence for another minute or so, then Juniper shook her head.
"My thanks for listening," she told the Hand.
"It is the least I can do, Champion!" he replied. "The Abyss is a pernicious foe that wears on all our nerves. I would be more worried were you not willing to talk to me about this – though I would still understand."
"You deserve your title and position for more than one reason, I think," Juniper said, with a smile.
