A Gathering of Heroes
Lorecine offers a kindness by not reacting to your awkwardness, just nodding along to your words. As you finish, he stands and picks up the scroll case from the table. Regarding it with some intensity, he runs his hands over the hardened leather tube, faint carvings of Elturgard's crest suddenly glowing with a pale yellow light. In the dim radiance of the room, the runes display with startling clarity upon the marble floor and dark walls, the symbols slowly flickering and expanding.
Before your eyes, dozens of images appear over all the surfaces of the room, moving pictures of your travel from Berdusk to Elturel. Upon the roof, you see yourself on your hands and knees in the mud, your delicate features straining as you try to wedge wooden planks under the wheel of a stuck wagon, the elderly farmer and wife nearby looking relieved at their good fortune. On the floor, it shows you at rest beneath a willow, scratching Shorel's ears as you eat an apple, a look of dopey happiness of your companions face.
Currently, Lorecine seems to be focusing on one in particular. In it, you have a youth who had just tried to hold you up on a small lane not far from a small hamlet, dead to rights, your bow at full draw, a bead upon his chest. In his hands, an old crossbow shakes, as he tries to demand you drop your valuables, his faint bravery coming from the hemp hood that hid his features. Despite the land strongly patrolled, there were places where crimes of opportunity could occur, this winding lane surrounded by high hedges one of them. You had tried to talk him down, his fear obvious but he seemed strangely resolute. He was fearful. With a crossbow pointed at you, you had fair justification to fire but your gut feeling told you otherwise. An arrow loosed, striking the crossbow and shattering it in the surprised boy's hands, his reaction slow as you crossed the divide and grabbed him by the scruff. He led you back to where his step-father waited for the goods, an interaction that resulted in you having to help carry his unconscious form back to the nearby hamlet with the aid of the boy. Upon seeing the state of the mother, the bruises and shy glances, the step-father was lucky to only have two broken fingers when he was handed over to a watchman. Your quiet word with the bastard moments before enough to convince him to solely take the blame for the act of banditry.
Many of the other images are mundane, tracing your steps to where you are now, your unhurried and easy manner with the many locals seemingly pleasing the aasimar. Despite your shock at the invasive magic, you are least thankful it seems not to display more private moments.
"It is in moments when people act naturally, unaware of eyes upon them, that one can judge a true character of a person." Lorecine speaks quietly as he continues to glance at the different images, oblivious to your growing discomfort.
"Tell me" he asks now more firmly as he turns to look at you, his handsome features now reset to the slightly crooked smile "why did you answer the summons? You find our nation's sensibilities strange and restricting and yet, I know you diverted from your trip back to Baldur's Gate to answer a random request. What did you expect to hear once here?"
His questions flow into each other despite his even tone and as you stare at him, you find your eyes locked upon his own as his now heady voice fills your senses. You know you should be angry at the situation but he seems sincere, no realization of what he has done is wrong, only genuine interest in your reason for being here. In that moment, caught in a sensation of his naivety about the scrying and his earnest wonder, you feel that it would be a sin to lie as it may cause his radiant face to frown. As you breath deeply to regain your senses, the rich incense fills your nose and everything feels slightly dreamlike. The words are upon your lips and as you go to answer, your mind races, you feel no danger but years of experience warns you that all is not right. In a flash, you remember, this is a Godsword, a powerful paladin in service to the city, not some young, charming priest full of new zeal for his church. In that moment of clarity, the compulsion spell shatters though it seems to not change Lorecine's demeanor, he still stands waiting for an answer with a smile.