>>5204206Avighon was a medium sized town, unremarkable save for one characteristic. Where many Imperial towns have a keep or castle overlooking their more urban sprawl, Avighon boasts a massive cathedral. The Bastion of the Depths is the center of Imperial religion, home of the Prioress of the Faith, and the center of learning for all of Althimura's clergywomen. Looking upon it's majesty for the first time, you have both a passing regret for your own lack of attention to piety and a wonder that somehow the path that led Vera to her death passed through this very place.
Friedrich speaks up, riding at your side. “Avighon, Lord. Many have sought the blessing at the Lady's cathedral upon being knighted or receiving a new duty. Perhaps you seek the same?” His tone remains polite, but it's clear the knight thinks you unworthy of such consideration from any deity. Probably the whole “bastard” affair, you suppose.
“Perchance I do? Worst that can happen is nothing, and who can say? I am sure the Emperor would be pleased with divine approval of his reinstatement of the Order.” Friedrich gives a smile that does not quite reach his ears, and thinks better of goading you further. The last few days of travel had been awkward between you and the head knight. To you, it seems your favor in the eyes of the Emperor coupled with what Sir Friedrich must view of the dishonor of claiming a bastard must have rankled the man. Too well bred to ever bring it up, Friedrich none the less has made his distaste for you known in a dozen ways, though none rising to an offense you could honorably answer. Unable to answer this disdain, you grew frustrated.
As your caravan enters the town, your new fellow order members make their own arrangements for accommodation. It's not long before you are approached by both the town's mayor and the Prioress of the Bastion. The woman is an older sort, faded blond hair framing her face from a grew hood of the same hew you have seen many times before. The man is exactly as you pictured, a balding functionary whose unremarkable build screams bureaucrat.
“My Lord Campbell! I am glad to greet you!” The man exclaims, and you immediately peg him as vying for your favor and what advantage an association may bring, The older woman only nods as her goateed companion prattles on. “Welcome to Avighon! We are so pleased to welcome the companion of our dear Emperor! How may we serve you?” The man goes on and on, placing an arm around your shoulder and embarking on a tirade about his home you doubt anyone could match even were they paid for it. The woman is must more circumspect. She takes the opportunity to whisper to you as the mayor goes on.
