Way of the Wicked
01 - My Story
Repentance is for the Weak
Chapter One: My Decision
My name is Johhan Invictus and by now you’ve likely heard my story, or some lie-filled variation of it. To many in Cheliax I am a hero. One of those remembered for bringing order to our nation after the death of Aroden.
In other nations I am a villain, a betrayer, a man whose decisions led to the death and enslavement of tens of thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands of men, women, and children. This is my story. I tell it from memory and though it might contain false memories it does not contain embellishments. It does not contain lies to further my status as a hero. It is what happened to me as best my fading memory can recollect.
It was many years ago that I stumbled upon the misdeeds of my fellow Inquisitors. I was young and idealistic. Foolish some might say and they would not be far wrong. I was less than a year in my position when I discovered that my immediate superior, the man who trained me, who taught me everything of Aroden and of honor, was engaged in terrible evil.
Milus Sarini was the son of one of the most important families in Cheliax. At that time the Sarini family was the most powerful family in Westcrown. It is, I’m certain, difficult for a reader to remember the city as the most important, the very capital of Cheliax, but it was so at that time.
Milus was the oldest of three sons and the most promising. No doubt destined to become High Priest of Aroden over all of Cheliax. He was also weak-willed when it came to women. The women he found attractive were strong-minded and would not allow him to dominate them. He found a solution to this problem but I jump ahead of myself.
I stumbled across a cult of devil worshippers among some lesser priests of Aroden. They took secret rites to worship Asmodeus and praise him. At that time I considered this blasphemous. In the light of all that would be revealed to me later this original opinion probably still holds true today. Blasphemous, evil, requiring human sacrifice, all these things are true. However, also lawful. Stringent about following the rules of His law.
I infiltrated this cult. Learned of their worship and found that they also were investigating what they perceived as wrongdoing. Milus Sarini, my friend, my mentor, was framing women, girls even, for crimes against Aroden so that he, and his friends, might maneuver them into the Inquisition chamber. From there they raped the women, used them, and tortured them into becoming their slaves. All in the name of Aroden.
I was rash, young, foolish, yes, but also dutiful. I went to my superiors to expose this cult and they rebuffed me. They gave me an assignment in the hinterlands of the Molthune where I would no doubt have served out my career as an Inquisitor without promotion, without reward.
I refused, I broke into the chamber where Milus and his friends were abusing some poor, innocent girl. I killed as many of them as I could before I was restrained.
There was a trial of a sort. I did not speak. The public did not attend. They found me guilty of treason, of murder, even as the prosecutor’s last words echoed in this so-called Chamber of Iomedae. I was sentenced to the terrible prison of Branderscar to live out the remainder of my life. There I would likely have been found dead, a suicide, if not for The Master.
But again, I must return to the story as it happened.