Belthor Puts Brief Thought Into Being Pious

“Do you think it’s safe to be talking now?” Franza whispered down to him after they’d been climbing for what must have been at least twenty minutes.

Safe was not the word that Belthor would use to describe anything about their situation. He could barely see, his arms were tired, and he could hear the increasingly ragged sound of Irolt’s breathing from beneath him. But at least they hadn’t heard anything about the weird, psychic blob thing.

“It’s not like that thing can drop us from the ladder,” he said, before wondering if that was even true. He honestly had no idea what that thing was or what it could do.

“What was that thing anyway?” Franza asked. “It couldn’t have been-”

“I don’t think it matters now,” Belthor replied, although he was pretty sure the dog was correct in their train of thought.

“Well, I think- Hey! The ladder is ending!”

Belthor was relieved that their climb was at an end, and that the dog didn’t feel the need to sing about it. When he had reached the top of the ledge he turned to offer a hand to Irolt, who collapsed the moment he was on solid ground.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this tired.

“Hey, thanks for saving us down there,” he said, crouching over his friend.

“Have...to...rest…” Irolt replied.

“Uh, Belthor?”

Belthor gave Irolt one last, concerned look before turning around to see what their dog friend needed. Even in the dim torchlight of the plateau they’d found themselves on, he could see the issue plainly enough. The scaley thief who had fallen with them was resting on the ground, a few feet from the ladder.

He drew his dagger, but was relieved at her quick surrender. She didn’t even get off the ground, she just raised her hands. “I don’t want any trouble, we’re still a long way from the top.”

Irolt would have been skeptical at this, but Irolt was already passed out. Belthor was not as keen to hold a grudge, and so he lowered his weapon. “Do you know where we are?”

“Under the church somewhere.”

“Can you help us get out?”

“I guess I’ll have to. Like I said, I don’t want any trouble. It’s a long walk up, and I’m too tired to be making enemies.”

“How about making friends?” Franza asked.

The lizard woman seemed mostly indifferent to the suggestion, but she nodded. “As long as I don’t have to do anything.”

“Okay, well my name is Franza! This is Belthor, and the one sleeping over there is Irolt. He’s real tired.”

“That makes two of us,” she answered. “Name’s Loan.”

Franza bent down to pick up her hand and give it a shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Loan.”

“Meet you properly, they mean.” Belthor added. “Without all the fighting and stuff.”

“Oh, yeah.” Added the dog.

“That’s an old pit under the church,” Loan said. Belthor had never heard that expression, but he couldn’t deny that it was relatable. “I’m sorry about the money our crew took from you.”

For a minute, the confession just renewed Belthor’s anger. There was nothing that bothered him as much as losing things, but then he remembered how much gold he’d been able to make from the vigilante experience thus far, and it calmed him down. Even if Irolt was able to make him give some of it back, he’d gained way more than he had lost.

“It’s not a bad scam you’re running,” he admitted.

“While you guys are talking, I’m going to go explore, okay?”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Belthor asked the dog. He realized that technically he did have Resistance seniority, but it was weird being the one in charge, and he wasn’t sure that he was the best one to be coming up with plans or granting permission.

If I’m ever in charge of a Resistance group for real, it’s not going to go well.

“Well just be careful, okay? Don’t go too far.”

“I won’t!” Called the dog as they ran off.

“How do they have so much energy after climbing all that way?” Loan asked. “I feel like I could sleep for a long time.”

Belthor shrugged as he took a seat next to where the scaly had dropped down, figuring that Irolt would appreciate him keeping watch. “Dogs, I guess.”

“So are you guys with the Parliamentary, or what?”

Belthor swore that he could hear Irolt huff at that, even in his sleep.

“Resistance, actually.” He corrected.

“Really?”

“Yeah, why?”

She shrugged again. “We just don’t get a lot of Resistance passing through Irolladice. I always figured you guys would be less…”

“Less what?”

“Righteous.”

Another huff. Belthor lowered his voice conspiratorially.

“Why? We’re the good guys.”

She shrugged. “Everyone thinks they’re the good guys, though. The Parliamentary thinks they’re in the right. Plus, when you’re participating in an illegal political movement, it just doesn’t seem like stealing would be such a big deal.”

“We were, uh, preserving justice, looking out for the little guy, stuff like that.” Belthor argued. He had no idea what the group had been doing or why, he had just wanted to make up for his losses, honestly.

“So you’re telling me that in your ideal world there’d be no crime?”

“Well, less crime.”

Unless I’m doing it.

“Hmm.”

“Does that mean you support the Parliamentary then?”

“Personally? I don’t really care. Irolladice has been around forever, and I don’t really think it will ever change. The Parliamentary left us to our own devices, and until you guys came along, The Resistance pretty much did the same.”

“That sort of proves that we’re in the right though, doesn’t it?”

Does it?

Belthor had never put much thought into whether or not The Resistance operated with any moral high ground.

Loan looked confused. “How do you figure?”

“Well, look at how much power the Parliamentary has. If they wanted to stop the crime and really look out for their people, they could do it pretty easily. We don’t have nearly that much manpower, and we’re still trying to help out.”

That makes sense, right?

“Maybe the Parliamentary just doesn’t want to oppress our culture? Did you ever think about that?”

He hadn’t, really. He suspected that despite relative seniority, he knew the least about what they all stood for. “It seems like a fairly crime-based culture, though?”

“I wouldn’t describe it that way,” Loan said defensively.

“How would you describe it?”

“Not that way.”

They sat there for a while without saying anything before she spoke again.

“I mean, our business wasn’t exactly legal, technically, but it was a business. It’s not the government’s job to interfere in small businesses, so says the God of Capitalism.”

“I thought you worshipped the God of Silence?”

“I spend a lot of time in that church, that’s for sure.”

He realized it didn’t make sense to assume that just because she was involved in a crime ring that operated near the church, to assume she followed the religion. In fact, it might indicate the opposite. “How does the God of Silence feel about stealing, do you know?”

She shrugged. “I guess that’s the good thing about following him. He doesn’t get all judgmental like some of the other gods. It’s less about what you do and more about how you do it.”

“So stealing is okay as long as…”

“As long as you do it quietly, yeah.”

Interesting.

“But you don’t like him?”

“I don’t mind him. There’s just not that much to pray for, I don’t have a lot to get done.”

“More stealing?”

“Would you two be quiet?” Irolt snapped, startling them both.

Loan seemed to have no objection to this, and so the conversation was abruptly ended. She curled right up where Franza had first pointed her out to him, leaving the elf to squint his way through the watch all by himself.

He decided, during this time of contemplation, that he probably could do well in a religion that didn’t prohibit him from stealing, and the God of Silence might not be a bad fit, since he was quiet by nature.

But he’s so creepy.

He was also telekinetic, so there was a good chance he was listening in on this whole thought process.

Hmm. He thought. Bad.

If they somehow did overthrow the Parliamentary, Belthor knew that he’d probably wind up being very wealthy. A day may come down the line where his success as a thief may drive him to another vocation.

But that probably won’t be religion, he decided. Everything about his day had only reaffirmed that.