GM’s Note: I am going to take a bit of liberty here, and assume that LA is willing to show off Lucille to the Sword Knights, despite the fact that he is not that fond of Nevil the Devil.
What follows is the story of Nevil and Zeclas, as told by them. It is quite lengthy, and will likely have to be broken up into multiple posts. It is not necessary information for the campaign, but will give you some insight into these two interesting NPCs.
“Oh, that’s a nasty weapon you got there.” Nevil says to LA appreciatively as he eyes Lucille. “Look at that, Zec.” Zeclas shakes his head, while Nevil sizes up LA. “And they call me ‘The Devil’. Keep an eye on this one, he’s got a look about him, priest of Desna or not.”
“Ah, your just hurt that no one has asked you why I call you ‘Devil’ yet.” Zeclas says with a goading smile.
It has gotten quite late by this time, and Nevil looks around nervously at the nearly empty Inn. The few locals that are still there are at the bar are paying you no attention. He closes his eyes for a second, and then smiles when he opens them again.
“Well, you see, there I was toe to toes with Deskari,” Nevil jumps up from his chair, and puts his fists up in a fighting stance. “I had broken my sword on the beak of a stinking Vrock when I chopped it’s skull in two, so it was coming down to fisticuffs between me and the Demon Lord…”
“Maybe we should tell them the real story.” Zeclas says, staring at his full cup of wine.
Nevil sits back down, clearly taken aback. “But we don’t know them.”
“They finally got around to telling us what they were really about.” Zeclas says, “And I think everyone in this town could deal with a does of honesty, don’t you?”
“Gah, plenty of people know.” Nevil says.
“Do they?” Zeclas raises an eyebrow.
“The First Sword Knight knows,” Nevil replies, “It’s no one else’s business.”
“You’re the one who wanted to come talk about it.” Zeclas says.
“So the minstrel could write a song. One people would want to hear.” Nevil scratches his chin, and takes a drink of his ale. “You’re right. Go ahead then, you tell them.”
Zeclas sets his cup on the table, and starts off the story, “I was with the 50th Circle, north of Kenabres when the city fell. That’s what started the Fifth Crusade, what we hope was Last Crusade.”
“The 50th Circle are all ex-pats, kind of a foreign legion for the religiously persecuted.” Nevil interjects, “Zec’s from Rahadoum. The 50th got a lot of the dangerous scouting missions back then.”
“As Devil says, the missions could be dangerous, but Demon activity had been very low for years” Zeclas picks back up, “we were scouting towards Drezen when we were suddenly cut off, and surrounded by hordes of Demons. The first three days we lost half the Circle. Words can’t describe the horror…” Zeclas looks down at his still full cup, and passes it from one hand to another without drinking.
Continued in next post.