"Mortality is a confusing state of affairs." 

She nods with a wry little smile, her head bobbling along concedingly. 

It looks at her dubiously for a moment - 

- and glides away vaguely. 

She hasn't been afraid since she was a child, but that is still deeply concerning.

She in fact, has a normal capacity for fear, but is perhaps a little numb to adventure shenanigans like these. 

"In my experience, there's only so much that most people can learn to... factor in, in advance, about how treacherous the terrain they are walking through is. There's a trepidation that comes once you see the glint of their blades or hear their steps, or when there's something wrong, or something in motion. Even if it's the sort of thing that ought to be there, even if you aren't worn down yet... Seeing the budget get spent can be unnerving, sometimes." 

- She thinks part of why she feels as comfortable as she does is that she's a bit more used to the oddness of the frontier, the strange people's who you don't want to find yourself working with but who can be passable folks, as long as you don't step on any toes or don't linger for long. But a knight, even  knight has to linger and guard, and that gives a rather... different relationship, to those who are a little more standoffish and condescending. 

She idly scratches her nose, and follows along the path. At least with a guide they probably won't get stuck going down uninteresting dead ends. 

"Yes." The thing does not seem to be listening but probably is. "That is a being of extraordinary power."

Is she obligated to immediately attack a Lich on sight? No. Should she avoid a fight with it unduly? No, that would be cowardice. Should she start a fight when the battle might hurt an innocent bystander? No. But the presence of something so unclean and wicked lies on her nerves like fire.

Possibly Scarlet does not know what that is, although she would have thought the bare skull and venomous eyes would be worrying enough. 

A small nod. 

Something properly nasty, then. Not just 'spookily done wizardry', the sort of thing that gets your soul properly stained and soiled in darkness to get yourself involved with. 

She'll keep walking for a while, then if there's a good spot to pull over, she'll ask if they can pop aside for a meal - mortals, right? Hopefully hovering over them will be enough for at least a proper illusion of privacy. And besides, she did want a chance to preach at her, didn't she? 

Again the odd look. 

"Yess. Attend to your petty needss, barbarianss. The priestss will ssurely find you."

It in fact wanders off. Well, glides off. 

There is indeed a broken-down old room that seems empty by firelight and has a mostly-surviving door that can be barred securely. It's not a large room, and it's chilly, but it's fairly secure.

"I did want a chance to preach to you, yes. Also, we face a worse threat than I thought. That is a lich."

She furrows her brow lightly. 

"That's... even nastier business then I thought. Being all skull and bones is never exactly a good look, but there's plenty of different fishes in the sea. A lil surprised, honestly - it seems... duller, than I'd expect from a powerful arcanist. More listless. Got any particular sense of what this one has in store, or any tricks beyond just 'hitting it really hard'? Can't say I've looked too deeply into dealing with liches in particular, though should be able to at least resist its magics for long enough not to be a liability." 

She nods. 

"You worship... 'The five' in your lands, right? Moradin, the elves' goddess, and three others I can't remember off the top of my head. What's their pitch, then?" 

"I captured a Necromancer seeking lichdom before. I know a little about them. I wish I did not have to. If this one really was a Serpent-Man in life it is extremely ancient. Liches often have obsessions. Possibly it just was not paying attention to us - it might have been gestating Spells in its mind, or composing an epic poem in a language nobody ever spoke, or plotting the death of a whole people because their distant ancestor slighted it in life. But they are terrible things. They can wield the greatest of Spells, if they wish. I am not sure we can prevail."

She sits, and hugs her knees, and looks at the barbarian closely to gauge her reaction. She really is not like Aeolyn would have expected. And very beautiful, but that is not relevant right now.

"'Pitch' is a strange way to describe it. ...Truly, you are not as I thought a barbarian from these lands would be. You sound... widely travelled, even learned. What do you call gods?"

"When many lands don't accept you, what reason is there not to travel? I've developed my body well enough that the trips are little trouble, and there's only so many monsters and maladies in the world a blade can cleanly cut in any given place, especially if you're not one for waiting around for the threats to come to you." 

She hums lowly, and starts setting up a pot, her sword merrily burning beneath the steel. 

"Spirits? Elementals? Patrons? Maybe a mage with the right skillset can cleanly tell apart the difference between a demon cultist, a warlock, a witch, or someone empowered by a hackneyed ol' trick of a fae or the power of a malevolent spirit of a different nature, but they're much the same, in the end. Maybe they have a few different rules of exactly how they're supposed to go about things, or have a slightly different list of terms for their followers, but usually they're trouble, especially if they offer looser terms. There's people who can get away with it - sometimes they're more foreign and aloof then nasty, but it's not the kind of thing a sensible woman should bet the house on getting right the first time, I think. But you seem like sensible enough folk, so..." 

She shrugs her shoulder, and rolls her head along it, watching her carefully. 

That is oddly cute and she wants to see it again. Also not relevant. Yet.

"I see. Why do so many lands not accept you?"

That sounds like one of those things people are going to tell her was discourteous, somehow. 

"Forgive me. I do not mean to - overstep. If that is what you do then the world is lucky to have you."

"That is a wise and noble approach indeed. Astonishingly so. All of those things heathens call gods are dangerous at best, and usually wicked in the extreme. The true gods are of a different kind entirely. They are not worldly spirits or things of darkness. They are greater likenesses of God. Of the Creator, of all that is good and right. It is in Their name that I do these deeds."

She snorts, and rubs the back of her neck. 

"People get intimidated by people they can't control, and I'm not exactly an expert at fine culture. There's... some peace, you can have, but there's only so much that people care to have a wandering warrior partaking in their hospitality. And though it's not something I got from a pact from spirits, a side effect of..." She waves her hand over her body with a wicked little smile. "Everything I did to get this makes it a bit easy for those with a certain outlook to feel a little... well" She tilts her head, and lets out a faint little snort.

"Emasculated."

She's pretty sure it's not just  the cheesegrater abs and the bulging muscles. It's... the specific flavour of her power, something with a primal primacy that gives those the intimidating presence of a beast, of someone taller and stronger and better. Some egos just... do not take that well. 

Her lips purse together in thought, then frowns a little.

"So is there a claim rights deal? That everything has to be 'done by a faithful servants of the five gods'? That can be a bit nasty, especially if they're doing some sort of name eating or what have you. Reputations matter, y'know? And if they're 'likeness' of the creator, why not just skip the middlemen?" 

"Ah. That does sound like something heathens would have a problem with. The wild lands are not something I understand well at all. I suppose there are good reasons the Church is not there already. ...I can well imagine that they would be frightened."

And then she is successfully distracted. That is definitely an invitation to at least glance down, which she does. 

...Impressive. Deep breath.

"Emasculated? What?" 

Some heathen superstition? She blinks. Focus.

"No. No, not at all. There is no... name eating." That is an insult to the gods, but she can remember holy patience. "I think that is a question for a scholar. Actually - you may simply be describing Heaven Itself. In which case, we are working on it. ...I apologise, forgive me. If you are a heathen it is an act of wisdom and humility to be suspicious of most things that call themselves gods." This is why we remember our holy patience. 

She snickers. 

"A man's pride can make them do many a silly thing, alas. Physical prowess and confidence are... two things that can catch a decent bit of them, if they aren't minding themselves well." 

She frowns lightly. 

"Is it so hard? 'd figure if the power came from heaven you could just Plane Shift over, eat the food, breathe the air, meditate on things and figure something out. Wouldn't even have to be a huge investment to give it a college try, though I'd hope someone has tried that out, by now, even if what results they got from it probably got shoved a mile deep in some warded archive somewhere." 

She snifs a bit dismissively, and sighs, before nodding along a little. 

"You see the predicament. Is there a - standard deal, for working with them, then? Or if not, 't'd be good to hear your deal, then? Seems like you've gotten some spiffy tricks of your own, and they feel like the sort of thing that you'd get from a patron more than wizardry, by my amateurish eyes." 

That sounds strange. She feels a distinct urge to march this woman back to civilisation immediately where she will actually be appreciated. 

She is not a preacher. She is not clergy. She does not do this, normally. But she ought to know. 

"When God created this flawed world, it was like sunlight on running water, or through broken glass, or through a jewel. Reflections, refractions, shadows, something perfect broken, in a way, a sacrifice for you and me to live. Heaven is what it would mean to return to perfection but still be ourselves. It is not a place you can reach with a Spell. It is something we build, and something we are granted only by grace alone, because what we all are is an image of God."

"So - we are all working with Them, you see, all men of goodwill, even virtuous pagans. But yes. It involves baptism, which I cannot perform outside an emergency. As for myself, it is not a matter of patronage. It is not so much that clerics have patrons in the gods, they... reflect a divine truth in themselves. I am different. I simply swore to do what was right and stood by it, and the world heeds it, if I keep true. Clerics are chosen, paladins choose."

She squints a little dubiously. 

"I think I'll wait for a second opinion on that - pretty sure the elements have their own abstract nature but that doesn't mean you can't pop over to the elemental plane of fire for tea and snacks, with the right loadout. Once we get out of here, might nab a few scrolls to let us both try that out. Or maybe there's some name collision there? Swear I'd be rich if I got a coin for every little pocket realm that someone claimed was the 'deepest pit of hell'." 

"And I'm little confused, there? It's not like there aren't plenty of people who swear themselves to some - code of honor in lands that your empire hasn't touched, and it doesn't seem like there's exactly a bumper crop of people with your kind of talents outside of that. And if it's about - completing the divine truth of creation, isn't it a little - redundant to go for the bits already nabbed by your gods, when there's more of Good and God to reflect? I guess there's some appeal to going after a path already decently well trod, and there might be some edge in having it premediated. Still, there's only so far you can reflect a beam of light before it dims." 

All right, this is an impressive adventurer. 

"I have been to what a wizard called the elemental plane of fire. I am dubious. 'Name collision', yes. There are many, many strange places in the world. And wizards are prone to the sin of pride. Overconfidence. ...It occurs to me now that some cunning monster somewhere must have at some time built a prison and called it Heaven."

She looks vaguely sick at the thought. 

"I am sure there are, but it is not the true faith. Maybe somewhere there is a heathen paladin, someone so wise and good they got everything right by themselves. I hope there is. But I would not expect there to be ten such in the whole world. Never mind a bumper crop."

"If that could be done, I expect it would be wonderful. ...Possibly that is what the Prophet did. I do not know."

"I suppose. Still, if we're working with reflected refracted images, I don't think it'd be the worst place to start to pop by a place that happens to bear something of a kinship with or resemblance to it."

She pauses, and taps her chin. 

"What would make it false, in that case? It doesn't sound like the standards are amazingly strict in terms of perfect 'informed consent' for exactly what you are signing up for, so I doubt it's that..." 

"Have a few guesses, though I'm sure I've only heard a fraction of the stories, much less the true histories. Maybe the prophet got a 'teaser rate' deal from the gods - something to advertise how powerful their blessing could be, to inspire and convert at the promise of possibility, something not particularly sustainable but workable enough to make a career out of it, with a trial period beforehand with a set of experimental powers that didn't hit cost/benefit outside of that. Maybe he got a few extra little spirits who liked the cut of his jib to jump on the bandwagon, or mediated making the whole shebang after an initial run w/out the five - it'd be dangerous, sure, but I doubt he'd be such a figure of legend if he didn't go for dangerous things. Or maybe he was just like, a sorceror with a good set of divination and enchantment spells that beat the defenses of his contemporaries, and the gods felt like he if anyone could make good use of a lever, he could. Though I mean... For all I know, he was an dragon in disguise or just someone who had weirdly high uhh 'stats', to put it crudely, or he just happened to be in that kind of headspace already." 

...Actually, in the sorceror theory, he was probably a necromancer, now that she thinks about it a little more. But it's much the same case either way, and it's not like she's completely incapable of tact.

"I am finding it difficult to follow what you mean. The gods do respect 'informed consent', free will, that is important. The Prophet established the Covenant, founded the Church, I wondered if that was what you suggested, about finding ways to better reflect God. 

Also. I have not thought about this before, but I do understand that from your perspective all gods and those who act in their name are suspect and dangerous. That is admirably wise and virtuous of you. Knowing that, I am not angry about what you are saying. I only hope that you will take the time to look. They are different. The true faith is not trying to hurt and crush you like the demons of the wild. It is only trying to take your hand."

"I don't mean it in that sense? I mean it in the sense that - clearly it doesn't seem like it needs a - scholar's comprehensive knowledge of exactly how it works, to be a paladin, to be call upon that power, and all possible alternatives that they could have reasonably offered you. You have some catchetisms about what it generally looks like, but it sounds like most of the fine details are esoterica to you, something that you have half-remembered half-integrated answers for. Some - heathen could understand that there's a path of dedication to honor and virtue, that it's a difficult road and that it gives you a certain extra connection to specific principles of the divine, and as best I can tell from what you are saying, it wouldn't be that fundamentally different from the kind of choice that it sounds like you are describing?" 

She shifts about in place. 

"To be clear... There's nothing wrong with being a sorceror or being a dragon or even necessarily having those compacts? Everything I've heard about the prophet makes it sounds like he was a cool guy, and he was earnestly trying his best with the tools he had, or was willing to show. I just don't have any particular reason to say that he wasn't any of those things. And... I don't know enough about what you're saying to say 'Oh yeah, given that, it sounds like you're doing things sensibly. Good on you.' There's clearly a bunch of constraints, in the head of your church or in metaphysics, somewhere, guiding how things are going that you can't speak particularly confidently about, here, and that means that that avenue of exploration probably isn't... that fruitful, for now? Or at least, I don't know the questions off the top of my head of what to ask based on your broad description of the metaphysics to get me there." 

"I guess the question from here is like... what are each of the five like? Beyond just "powerful", "connected to heaven and good", "patron-like", and "allied with each other". I know the goddess is responsible for a good bit of the magic of the elves, that moradin has a thing for traders and merchants, and that the five gods have a method for empowering healers in a way somehow much better and/or more scaleable than other beings have, but not a ton more than that. Or maybe a better question would be... Do you have a script for if in an emergency, someone who wanted to become a cleric of the five, what you'd say about the pros, any cons or requirements, there?" 

Dignity is important, but honesty is much, much more so. 

"...Scarlet. In truth - I am of the first generation of holy knights in this land. I should be properly learned, and I am not. There is no proper excuse, now, only that my worldly concerns were always terrible and pressing. You clearly know of these things, I cannot imagine how. But these are not the questions a heathen would ordinarily ask, I think, and I should be worthy to rise to them anyway. I will try."

"I think it would be difficult or impossible for a heathen to follow that path. If they could - that would be the same thing as heeding the Word of God."

She concentrates her will. This is not something she has ever tried to do before, but it is plainly her duty, and it is also plainly not the most difficult thing she has ever done.

"We are all made in the image of God. The keys of Heaven are inside us all. ...We all... contain some of the impulse to Good, is what I mean. But nurturing and following it is difficult. That is why Scripture is important, if that is what you are asking."

"...I do not have a script. I would say... to be Chosen is to at once remain yourself and to reflect the Divine. It is a holy mystery. There are no drawbacks or prices like demons ask, it is a thing of Grace. I would struggle to explain the teachings of the Five Gods to a heathen. Frankly I have no idea how to explain them to you, you are... clearly wise in some way. What do you think Good is?"

She leans back, listening to the gentle simmering of the pot. 

"There's a couple of things I could talk about that come to mind. I'm not sure I could give a terribly useful singular answer, but I might as well muse on it some." 

"One thing that I tend to focus on, when musing on the good, is mindfulness, I guess? I'm not necessarily the most naturally accommodating person, but the point of being a decent chap is to keep a sense of people in mind, have a bit of room in your heart to shift from your course and find a way to be kind, or fit things in with the plans and workings of others. I think some people would talk about - flow, or efficiency, but you can be efficient at shitty things, but there's only so much you can be considerate about that sort of thing." 

She drums her fingers idly against her sword, uncaring of the toasty glow of it. 

"And from there you can talk about - respect, or whatever, gettin' things in order enough that you can trade, pass things between each other, make some community or commonality as people who want things and have things and who could have more things and who are going to do things in the future and are going to predictably continue to want things and to be able to get the things that they want, smoothing that out and making it work despite whatever differences you happen to have, even if you're going for contrary things, to big extent?" 

"But like, that's the more indirect philosphical shit. There's also just like, nice shit? Pretty sights and scenes, good sex and swill and soothing satisfying meals. Love and lust and lightness and - the right fit of your body on your skin, the pulse of passion and the rush of getting to run and ride, the idle smiles that creep onto your face in decent company when the chatter runs on, and safety and prosperity and problems not being a thing, or at least not in your way. Good as a release and a relief and the things that push you towards that is a decent enough way to look at it, I'd say." 

She ponders a little, then ventures a word. 

"I'm sorry that your training wasn't good enough, at least at that. I get the need for a rush, but feel like they ought to have at least some sense of where to keep on going from - a big ol' reference text to keep studying, maybe, or a reading list they keep stocked at the ports of call or barracks or whatever. That, at least, should be pretty doable, even if having sages to answer your questions for as long as you need or want isn't. Imagine part of it is that it's not - the sort of thing that a desperate man readily prioritizes, when there's people willing and able to leap into the fray without it, and there's problems in front of them to solve, more than something that you couldn't, in principle, have gotten into the budget or SOP."