First Blood Is The Loser

First Blood Is The Loser
Date of Scene:	30 March 2013
Location:	Mullonde
Synopsis:	Faruja interrogates Gidarch Valos in Mullonde's maximum security prison. The Burmecian draws blood first, yet, the dark one is he who controls the flow of the fight up until the very end.
Cast of Characters:	Faruja Senra, Count Valos

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Count Valos has posed:
Rumors have circulated in Mullonde, of the treasonous Count Valos, who supposedly spoke ill of the church, and even went so far as to sabotage an ambush that'd been prepared for Ramza back in Flourgis. At the same time, the grapevine suggested that Valos had admitted this voluntarily, while in the presence of Morrighan Alazne and Cressida, both lower ranked members within Glabados, and 'allegedly', both of the said females helped to detain him. While Morrighan barely did squat, the fact was, her actions were hyped up a bit through the medium of emphasizing that her 'negotiating ability' played a pivotal role in Valos' willingness to be subdued, and Cressida was the one who physically brought him in. As if to further glamorize Gidarch's freeness of submission to Glabados justice, it was mentioned that he made no attempt to escape, even though he hadn't been hindered by any kind of chains, or bindings, which served to speak volumes for the content of his character, as it pertained to his docile nature. It was claimed also that he 'broke' into Morrighan's abode, but this was considered to be a mild charge, since the victim couldn't be found in order to validate the claim, which Valos stacked on himself voluntarily.

Facts were facts, and it couldn't be ignored that Ramza /might/ have been in the church's clutches at this very minute, were it not for Gidarch letting the cat out of the bag, so now Glabados planned to respond by letting the mouse out of the bag. No longer hindered by many protocols reserved for diplomatic conferences, Faruja was given license to let loose his temper on the dark elf if the Burmecian saw fit, and was afforded permission to use advanced interrogation techniques to extract whatever information he thought he could get from Valos. There was a reason behind all this, of course.... The officials /knew/ that on a personal level, Faruja had at least a sliver of loyalty towards Valos after all their joint-efforts on different occasions during miscellaneous missions, and figured that while Faruja's temper was enough to warrant cacophony of the greatest caliber, he'd probably actually refrain from trying to administer much physical abuse.

But that wasn't even the main cause for bringing the mouse into the playing field- they wanted to test Faruja's mettle, to see if he had what it took to elicit information from a stalwart enemy of the church, when it was well known that actual physical pain would be useless against Gidarch..... this meant that Faruja would have to use his wits to retrieve the reasoning behind Valos' actions, and since the dark one had virtually no compassion for anyone within the hierarchy on a personal level, if there was even one person who could possibly coerce Gidarch into surrendering his secrets, besides Morrighan herself, it would've have to've been Faruja Senra. The question therefore, is.... whether or not Faruja has enough brilliance to either out-wit Valos, or locate some kink in his emotional armor that might appeal to Valos' sense of regret, or remorse.

This would be the proving grounds for Faruja- for he has never truly faced an 'enemy' quite like Valos before.... all his opponents could be overcome by sheer willpower and force, but to win this particular contest, the Burmecian needed to employ the deadliest tool in the shed of sapient life-forms, one that Gidarch honestly felt was often left to rust, by most whom he'd ever known! Gidarch was in a cell that was enchanted by a lightning spell.... if he tried to escape, he'd get electrocuted, and with voltage being something he was susceptible to, as it embodied the element most diametrical to his own, it could feasibly generate enough force to hurl him backwards if he tried to penetrate it. Faruja, on the other hand, was given a counter-enchantment that would allow him to bypass the hex that kept Valos imprisoned- there was no risk of Gidarch liberating himself..... for the time being.

Faruja Senra has posed:
Faruja had to have the information relaid to him twice out of pure disbelief, and perhaps a touch of the pain medications for his broken ribs. Valos, sabotaging an ambush? From what admittedly little he knew of the man, the Count hardly seemed like a person to sympathize with a murderer nobleman. Though his time in the Inquisition has him refusing to rule it out, it's fairly down on the list of potential motives. Money? He doubts the runaway Beoulve has much of that left. Hatred for one of those within the ambush itself? Possible, but it didn't seem to fit Valos at all.

Simply put, Faruja is confused more than anything else, doing much to blunt whatever outburst the ratling would have as he enters the cell. Anyone who knew him would know that his stomach for torture is extremely small. At best, he'd break a wrist or a finger if the information risked a life, but otherwise? He'd not take the unusual opportunities Valos' weaknesses presented. There's a reason he's not an Inquisitor.

And so, Faruja enters, somewhat slowly given his injuries during that very same battle. A wooden chair is brought into the cell along with him, after employing the counter-enchantment to enter. Setting down the chair, he simply looks up into the taller being's eyes with his own. His tail trembles, even as the rest of him stays still. No yelling. His anger simmers, beyond any noisemaking by now. That ambush had cost the Templar much.

"Valos. 'Tis true? Did you truly sabotage an ambush of Ramza Beoulve, the fell Heretic?" Rather than accusing, his tone is questioning, as though the rat's still trying to convince himself this isn't some elaborate ruse.

Count Valos has posed:
The Count was a cunning fellow, and able to adapt to many situations. There were a few other things Faruja might've known about Gidarch that even his superiors did not, such as the fact that if Valos chose, he could easily transmute his body into stone for a millennia, if he so craved, thus nullifying the impact of a long-term prison sentence. Even if he remained in his more protein-based form over the duration of his incarceration, he'd likely live long enough to surmount whatever sentence was pronounced on him, and for a person like Valos.... sitting in a dungeon was probably no more or less pleasant than being anywhere else in the known world.

This meant that the church had very little leverage, for all the greatness of its vast military, it could not muscle a single drow, albeit a very unconventional one, into cooperating, unless they jumped through /his/ hoops. Valos knew that Faruja knew this, and Valos knew that Faruja was aware that Valos knew that the Burmecian was privy to this truth.... therefore, he knew that Faruja was probably nervous; if the mouseling failed, it would be a disgrace, and a lot was riding on Faruja being able to discover just who the mastermind was behind Valos' vile deeds..... since it was all too obvious that Gidarch didn't orchestrate the subversion- it hadn't actually been announced in an irrevocable way, but anyone who knew Valos, knew that he didn't actually love, or hate anyone enough to get involved in scandals of his own accord.

So it is that the dark one speaks up, "I sabotaged an ambush that may have led to his arrest, yes. I suspect that being honored by your presence entails beyond being riddled one simple query, to which a relevant answer was already..... evident. You do know, of course..... that I know precisely why you're here, and you know what you have to give me to get what you want, assuming what you want actually exists. And we /both/ know that logic is not your oyster. You knew, at some point, that you would have to play by my rules.... the day you have dreaded is upon you, Mister Senra, so come hither, now. Show me the indomitable spirit you're well known for exhibiting, but this time,.... channel it through your mind, and not your heart." Something about his comment suggests extreme conceitedness, even if his tone is completely deadpan.

Faruja Senra has posed:
Faruja feels the urge to simply deck the Count rising. A brow twitches, and his tail begins to lash, simmering anger threatening to overcome his senses. With an audible breath that may carry a hint of a snarl, he lets go of the lovely opportunity to give Valos a shiner. It wouldn't help matters, and he rather likes not being thuggish. it's unknightly after all!

Faruja waves his hand dismissively. "Yes, yes, dear Count, I assure you I know well my own flaws, they are oft far too manifest for my own liking. What I desire is the truth, naught but it, and to see to the end of this game you are playing." And whomever's pulling the strings. It simply doesn't fit what he knows of the elf. If anything, it's the mastermind he dreads far more than this interrogation. It feels far too insidious.

"Then let us find the pearl within this rotten oyster of mine, if it exists. How did you sabotage the ambush? I was there myself, he seemed unaware, therefore you did not tip him to our presence. Give me a full recounting of thine actions regardint the ambush's sabotage. Not a single detail left out." The rat takes out one of those click-pens, and a notepad. Knowing well the elf's pension for hating loud noises, he begins to click the end as he awaits the story. With any luck, it'll annoy the Count. Any emotional dissarray would be to the rat's favor.

Count Valos has posed:
Most people cower before those whose bites are worse than their barks, and laugh in the face of those whose barks are worse than their bites- for Valos, this is the reverse. Sound was indeed his enemy, and though the pen-clicks were but a minor irritant, the auditory resonation was enough to unbalance him just remotely enough for his left eye to twitch ever so slightly. It would take more than that to win the day, nevertheless, and Gidarch shook his head, "You misunderstand. I sabotaged the ambush that was prepared outside of Flourgis- though I wager that when that didn't go as planned...."

He bobs his head side to side, nonchalantly, "....The higher ups converted the original plan, enlisted a larger company, and then sent you, as well as your minions to ensnare Mister Ramze Beoulve in that mountainous pass. I am dubious that Mister Beoulve knew of the subsequent evolution when the initial plan failed, but that undoubtedly bought him time to escape Flourgis, where Glabados had a better chance at capturing him. The improvised enactment that you participated in, was.... well, less favorable towards the vantage point of Glabados, so.... in a sense, I did assist with his escape."

The dark one rubs his chin, thoughtfully, "....Incidentally, Mister Senra.... I think you can already determine on your own that when one wall is unassailable, the church will find others- even I am incapable of enclosing them completely, I only provided one wall. It just so happened that in this instance, the remaining avenues were poor in utility, so part of Mister Beoulve's escape can be attributed to providence." He points at Faruja, "It seems a strange thing that providence would shine for a heretic, when Glabados puts forth so much tedium into a proper carriage of justice for the defilers. You'd almost have to wonder..... whose side Faram is on.... Aye?" By now, it may be apparent that Valos is deliberately trying to riposte Faruja's attempts to circumvent Gidarch's mental constitution- by inserting the supposition that Ramza might be the one guided by the hand of the divine, instead of Glabados; but as it's just a hypothesis, it's not actually blaspheming.

This is the same gimmick that unraveled Faruja when Gidarch first visited Mullonde, and he's hoping it'll provoke the rat once more; Gidarch is either doing it to genuinely usurp Faruja's temperament, or he's doing it to merely see if the Burmecian has grown since their last argument, in which case he could care less if it works or not, but is simply curious and is using this opportunity to treat Faruja like a guinea-pig. Well.... Faruja is a rodent, of sorts, so maybe Valos isn't far from the mark!

Faruja Senra has posed:
Merely annoying the count is a small victory, judging by that twitch on the impassive man's face. Therefore, he continues to do so amid making notes, much like the constant dripping of water in a dark room.

Well used to Valos' ways, he can smell the trap in the elf's words. The Templar's hand tightens on his instruments, before relaxing. He needs self control, here, not anger. "'Twas the failings and interferences of mortals that led to the Heretic's escape." Is all he says on the subject, smoothly transitioning into more interrogation.

"All well and good, however, you did not answer my original question. How did you sabotage the initial ambush?" Repeats the Templar.

"

Count Valos has posed:
Gidarch shrugs, "By warning Mister Beoulve verbally, of course. I do not know sign language, although it might be a worthwhile investment, since some people's voices have such squeaky pitches that it can be agitating to the ears....." Following this up, the dark one remarks, "The failings and interferences of mortals, you say.... But if the heretics had been caught by the successes and abstinence of interloping, carried out by mortals, would that also be the will of man, or the will of Faram? Seems like it would be hypocritical to attribute the actions of sapients to said sapients only when ill is spawned from them, and conveniently giving credit to deities only when victory is the result of their actions." He raises a brow, inquisitively, wondering how Faruja plans to counter this little conundrum of rational, congruent argumentation....

Faruja Senra has posed:
"And for what reason did you inform the Heretic? What would such gain thee?" Further prods the Burmecian, eye only narrowing as the elf continues to press about the attribution of divine weight.

The Templar snorts dismissively. "Indeed it would, for the Lord's hand can touch any event. 'Tis in the events themselves, and indeed the nature of our loss was entirely due to the Judge Adjudicator and the intervention of an airship. And to suggest a Heretic to gain the blessing of the divine? Thy crimes are deep indeed, Count Valos."

Count Valos has posed:
The Count spreads his hands across the floor, since he's not actually sitting on the bench that was provided for him in the cell, which probably couldn't support his magnified weight, in any case- he does this as if painting a picture for his conversational partner, ".....Again, Mister Senra, you suggest that I am suggesting a heretic gained a blessing of the divine? All I said was that it /seems/ like it'd be hypocritical for Faram's will to be absent in some cases, and present in others. That means that I am not framing my postulations as fact, but as a matter of perception, which gives -YOU- every opportunity to show me the light, if you are truly led by the spirit to guide the misinformed to see the truth..... unless, somehow, you feel that your lord will fail in his ability to endow you with the wisdom to guide me to the truth, when I've so humbly /offered/ you a chance to prove that my vision is utterly distorted. I in no way denied that the heretics were condemned rightfully so, as a matter of truth, I questioned /why/ they are heretics, in lieu of the fact that...."

He pulls his hands back together, folding them in front of him, "....they seem to perform remarkable 'miracles' when severely outnumbered, in order to usher them to safety." He tilts his head to the side, "I informed the heretic because that is the direction my brain guided me into, suffice to say, Mister Senra. Every action we take is governed by the neuronal impulses that bustle through our brains at lightning-speed. Now.... it could be that.... outside influences 'tainted' whatever stimuli my sensory organs assimilated, that in turn, my mind registered as a source of inspiration to do what I did.... but you see.... the world, and the mind, are such complicated entities." The dark one shrugs, "It'd be hard to isolate a singular precursor that led me to make the decision that I made, seeing that all decisions are based on the amalgam of one's entire experience fused into an entire moment in which one takes an action that they take..... however, if I were to pinpoint a more -recent- benefactor which contributed to my choosing to warn Mister Beoulve, I'd need some kind of incentive to put my brain through the wringer, because.... honestly? That just seems like a lot of mental work on my part, to have to identify the principal factor that deigned my behavior to be as it turned out to be."

He adorns a very subtle grin, but there's smugness, nonetheless, in his expression, "....Mayhap you can entice me to the point that my brain will be warmed up enough to rise to the challenge of rustling up whatever information it is you're looking for, yes?"

Faruja Senra has posed:
More and more, the idea of resorting to Inquisitorial tactics for extracting information is becoming tempting. But in the end, Faruja gives a resigned sigh, clearly frustrated with the man's antics. "I am not here to entertain you, Valos. However, it seems I have little choice. Fine."

A shake of the head, and the Templar continues. "'Tis truly so strange? A small group, dedicated...though misguided and no doubt touched in the head to perform such vile crimes...driven, competent? Mayhap you are not well read in warfare, however, 'tis more than possible for a small group of competents with skill and cunning to outmaneuver pursuers. Particularly when interlopers such as thyself show so little piety as to tip them off!" Points out the ratling.

"These are not mere brats, these are competent soldiers, Heretics or no. They are formidable indeed, and given the lack of support from many governments in this patchwork world? 'Tis a fugitive's dream, Valos, these times. We are luck we come so close as it 'tis."

Count Valos has posed:
Gidarch yawns a little bit, feigning boredom, but maintains a vigil all the same, while listening to Faruja give his explanation, "I'm kind of curious about something. Did you always believe in Faram, or did you believe in some other celestial being, prior to devoting yourself to the church of Glabados, Mister Senra? I do, of course, have a point that I intend to make at the end of my line of questioning, but if you're willing to humor me, you might just be able to motivate me to bequeath the information that I can only /assume/ you want."

The dark one nods, and wags his hand, a gesture showing that he's disinterested in talking about the current heretics in the midst, and more intrigued by Faruja, on a personal level. "I recall you mentioned your country was destroyed by Alexandria, or perhaps I read it in an archive, but.... back in your world of origin, was your faith infused in the church of Glabados?" He retracts his arm, allowing it to rest comfortably against the stone floor, showing that he's quite at home in a chamber of confinement that's composed of his favorite substance.

Faruja Senra has posed:
The Templar is suddenly assaulted with a very personal question. His eye narrows briefly, and has to focus on remaining calm. If he was to get anything done here, he has no choice but to answer.

"No, I did not know the Lord as I know him now. My first encounter with religion was a small group known as the Sisters of Silence. Unlike other cults within the city, it spoke truth: of a single divinity, His love for His children, and a divine son. Remarkably similar to the Church's own teachings, though not as elaborate on ceremony. The Church of Glabados as an institution did not exist on my world, 'tis a product of Ivalice." Explains the Templar, crossing his legs. From within his robes he pulls out a flask; for once containing tea rather than alcohol. He sips as he patiently awaits questions, mind starting to tug at the strings of the logic Valos is presenting.

Count Valos has posed:
The Count rubs his chin thoughtfully, "If I'm correct..... According to your dossier, you /did/ fight against Alexandria, and were involved in at least one or more battles in which you.... killed in the name of a false god- the one revered by the Sisters of Silence, I presume. Inter-dimensional travel happened even back in many people's worlds of origin, so it could very well /possibly/ be that someone from Ivalice wound up in your world.... Gaia? A devout believer of Faram, who didn't proclaim their religious denomination outright, every second of their existence, and somehow got swept up in a battle that you were involved in.... and you may have slain them, even though they were your 'enemy', because they might've have been 'tricked' by their employer into thinking the liege that -you- served was evil. Which would've meant, theoretically, you.... may have, at one time, slain a servant of Faram, out of sheer ignorance."

He shrugs, "Now, the odds of that are astronomically piteous, of such a contingency being authentic, and yet, there's no way to confirm or deny it in totality, so... likely, you didn't, but....! You have absolutely no way of knowing, for absolute certain, do you? From the point of view of the follower of Faram, of course, -you- might have been seen as some sort of heathen who didn't know any better, and it wasn't until /recently/ that you 'saw the light' so to speak, when you were introduced to the truth of Glabados' glory." The dark one scratches his head, "Come to think about it, the black mages of Ivalice, even ones who worked under the church, they looked..... uncannily similar to the Black Mages in Gaia. Often, the black mages of both worlds had their faces concealed from view, and all that was seen were scant but a pair of yellow, glowing eyes.... Eh?"

Speculating that an Ivalician wizard could've been posing as a Black Mage from Gaia?.... It's a bit far-fetched, but indeed, not fully beyond the scope of plausibility- but since Valos has just essentially compared a potential Faram follower as being the -equivalent- of a Black Mage of Gaia, who razed Faruja's homeland to the ground- how much patience does Faruja have in him? This is probably the most deprecatory thing he's ever said..... no, it wouldn't really bother most people too terribly, but the Burmecian? He might not be content to sit there and listen to such a mockery of the suffering he'd gone through, especially when taking into account that he may have lost family in the skirmishes on Gaia.....

Faruja Senra has posed:
And nor does the Templar do so. As soon as the man's supposition of an Ajoran devout hiding amongst Alexandria's forces while his people...and family...died. Stalking over to Valos, the Templar reaches out with a clawed hand, wrapping it about the elven one's throat. He squeezes, hard enough that his claws dig into the man's flesh. He tugs the elf upwards enough to stare him in the eye, glaring and snarling in his face.

"HOW DARE YOU MOCK MY PEOPLE! They were cut down by Alexandrian dogs and their soul-less puppets! I stared those Fell demons in the eyes as they burnt my comrades! They had none of the spark, none of the /life/ of a PERSON! And even if your utterly asinine supposition was true, any devout of God that would find themselves amongst an army fielding the Heartless so openly is a traitor and a HERETIC! To leave innocent civilians to be slaughtered by evil humans and demons is not the act of a member of this Church! Lord help me, if you EVER suggest such a thing again, then I shall see thee struck down if 'tis the last thing I do! Far greater persons than YOU died that night, and I shan't see a Faram-damned TRAITOR curse their memory!" With that, he rips away his claws, not caring if he tears the man's neck a bit.

Count Valos has posed:
Gidarch stares blankly at Faruja as he stalks forward, with fury pulsating through his veins, as the marrow in his very bones may yet be curdling- until the Burmecian grasps him firmly around the sternal mastoid, and plunges his claws inward. Though not purely flesh, Count Valos is also not utterly petrified at this point, and the talons do embed themselves into him, with said clenching causing a mild asphyxiation of sorts. Not needing air quite as badly as most, Valos doesn't issue the same symptoms normally seen in those being choked, his skin does begin to shift into a more blueish pigment, as he loses vital air, but he remains catatonic. Eventually, when Faruja releases Valos, great gashes are left in his throat, demonstrating that he's not so invulnerable as one might suspect, after he'd tackled so many adversaries while under Morrighan's employ.

Not much blood flows down, because of his peculiar physiology, and the coagulation agents in his body work almost immediately, due to his plasma being thick to start with. The Count, despite the signs of apparent injury, remains unfazed- or so it seems. As the Burmecian stares daggers at Valos, Gidarch adopts a half-smirk, then... a full smirk.... then... he /laughs/. Yes. This may have not happened in so much as a century or more, but he actually laughs- not to the degree of a bellowing howl, but it's still obvious that this being known as Valos houses quite the same emotions as everyone else, even if they're buried much deeper than that of others, "Hahahaha!" He cackles, as Faruja fumes. "Do you see, now.... why, to me, you are just an insect..... one crawling around inside of my vast ant-farm?"

He shakes his head, his very concise fit of laughter already diminishing, as his pomposity subsides, just a pinch, "I watch you all, and I see what you do. I see the ones you try to hide from everyone, because you're all afraid of being judged.... not just by your peers, but by yourselves!" He shrugs, "Do you see.... that I have inflicted grievous pain on you, invoking your infernal wrath, without lifting a finger.... and you can not so much as make me flinch? Do you see the difference in my power, when contrasted against yours, Mister Senra?" He wipes the trickles of blood that do trail down his throat with a piece of his clothing, and then remarks, "No..... I am not a heretic. I believe in a god, as well, despite what you may think. But my god is not a humanoid-looking person floating around in the sky who is so limited that he actually has specific traits of his defined, such as gender...." The dark one shakes his head, "I plan to assimilate you all, and in so doing, I will be in turn, assimilated by you, for the bond goes both ways. You see Faram as the one true god. I believe in god, too, Mister Senra. However, I feel god was long ago shattered into countless fragments once he realized he existed, because when that happened, he became aware of his various aggregates. As long as god is conscious, then individual, isolated parts of him operate asynchronously, perceiving themselves as their own entities, and thus..... perpetuating chaos.... and suffering."

Gidarch nods his head raising a finger, punctuating his point to be made, "Do you know which emotion precipitates /all/ voluntary action?" He smirks, "Anger, Mister Senra..... anger." The dark one nods, "You probably don't believe me, and I'm not about to explain it to you, because giving you the logistics would be too easy, and wouldn't promote rumination on your part." He then folds his arms over his chest, "You've convinced me. I'll give you the information you want, but you.... must do something for me, and it's not illegal, in any way- or unethical. Are you willing to listen to my humble request?"

Faruja Senra has posed:
Somehow, the laugh feels like some small victory. But at what cost? Light swirls around Faruja's hand, never before having a greater desire to disobey orders and to simply murder the man on the spot. No. There is too much to discover here. Silently, he draws strength in prayer, asking Faram for the patience and wisdom to see this most terrible of trials through.

"...Thy arrogance is truly unbound. Whatever ability you have to provoke my temper, thy claws sink but so far. Know thee nothing of my aspirations, my dreams, my motivations...You are a flailing animal, and I the keeper. Scratch upon my flesh all that you like. 'Tis a cage that holds you within, not myself."

The Templar shakes his head, for a moment gazing upon the man pitiously. "Truly you are mad. 'Tis the only explaination for such utter blasphemy. Mark my words, the Inquisition shall hear of this. May they take pity upon thee." He /has/ proven himself useful in the past, after all.

"...Anger? Fah. There is more to a person's actions than anger. Compassion, love of another...I waste my time upon such words."

Sitting back down, glaring at Valos suspiciously, he flicks his tail. "Go on."

Count Valos has posed:
As Faruja's hand glares with a translucence, Valos remains unimpressed, pointing his finger at Faruja, "Your dreams, and aspirations.... motivations.... They are just a means to an end, Mister Senra. What you seek is happiness, plain and simple.... and because you seek it, you will never have it!" He grins, still feeling some residue of sanctimoniousness, "You call me mad, because you know not who I am. I consider you sad, and pathetic, because I -DO- know who you are.... and what your weaknesses are." He shrugs, and holds out his hand, palm up, as if making an offering, "....And now, you are about to discover one of my weaknesses." The dark one's expression resumes its usual degree of emptiness, "I want you to put in a good word for Miss Alazne. I want you to do everything in your power to ensure that her name is given great deference when the reports are submitted to the officials. With luck.... She will be rewarded handsomely; at the same time, if I ever do see daylight again, I wish not to be given any assignments that force me to confront her."

He nods, "You see..... I know how you all think. You know you can't hurt me with threats of death, or violence, so you -need- to make an example of me, otherwise others might follow in my footsteps; Glabados needs to do /something/ that causes me genuine discomfort. They'll most likely turn me into a slave of some kind, because it's the most despicable, shameful thing they can possibly conceive of doing to a person with the snobbish attitude you all think I possess." He nods, "My feelings are obsolete, though.... which is why I'm willing to trade this information you need for her sake, and not my own." He tilts his head to the side, ".....Do we have a deal?"

Faruja Senra has posed:
Faruja /chuckles/ at Valos' words about his dreams. "My, my, my. Mayhap you are more right than once thought." Is all he comments, a smirk to his features for but a brief moment. If only the man knew of his desires for happiness, and safety for the world beneath the Church's banner!

Listening silently, the Burmecian finally nods, uncrossing his legs. "Mmm. The break-in...'tis all connected, hmm? I thought it strange that you would do something like that, Valos. 'Tis simply too...forward...of a strange person such as thyself. Why, if I were to be so bold, love causes us to do utterly contemptable things at times, does it not?" A smirk. Weakness indeed!

"As you desire, I shall see that the reports are properly embellished as they change hands. While given my rank, I cannot directly order you out of conflicts...I shall suggest that you are kept from any actions taken by the Church in the eventuality she is made an enemy. After all, you would be far too easily lured by the woman to be trusted in capturing her."

Count Valos has posed:
Gidarch shrugs, "I'm certain many others have done worse things in the name of love." He taps his fingers against his cheek, ".....One more stipulation. I don't want Miss Alazne discovering that I'm helping her. If she knew I was doing everything in my power to assure her safety, and status..... that would be self-serving, and defeat the purpose of my gesture. If I were to give with the hope of receiving in return, then would that not be centered around my own gains?" The dark one shakes his head, "I understand you can not directly deliver these reports into the hands of the bishops, or cardinals, but.... nevertheless, I'm sure you'll do your best, Mister Senra..... as much of a sentimental one as you are, that passion seeps into everything you do." The Count is willing to do something as degrading as menial labor, if it has even a slim chance of bettering Morrighan's station within Glabados, although he does have an inkling of just what they might do for her- this is not something he reveals knowledge of, for exposing conspiracies would only implicate innocents, if a full-scale investigation was brought underway..... perhaps including Morrighan, herself, the one person Gidarch cherished above all others.

".....I received a message whose seal originates from Father Bouhr, you know.... the one who's trying to encourage reforms in the procedures of Glabados. It could be that he wanted to see this recent campaign against Mister Beoulve to fail, so that it could be blamed on those in charge, which would give him leverage to.... well, I have not a comprehensive understanding of his scheme, but I'm certain he's vying for a stronger foothold within the hierarchy." Gidarch shrugs, "Father Bouhr knew of my infatuation with Miss Alazne quite early on, I gather. You see, Mister Senra..... I told you that Miss Alazne is my weakness, so when I receive blackmail that threatens her safety, even someone as well-reasoned as myself can be manipulated. Not a single entity in existence can prosper if they don't have something they seek, even if it's so much as just living. If one has no desire, then nihilism drives one into extinction, for without reason to live, why not choose the alternative?"

He smirks, proudly, "....Logic, Mister Senra. A equals B, B equals C, A equals C."

Faruja Senra has posed:
Considering Faruja has killed in love's name and perhaps even commited blasphemy himself, the Templar wouldn't disagree there. Slowly, the Templar nods his assent. "Agreed. I know many, and am owed favors. A few embellishments as reports change hands up the chain of command are certainly doable. And my own report regarding what I have learned here shall certainly emphasize Lady Alazne's efforts in stopping you. Nay, she shan't hear of it from my lips."

Faruja's eye goes wide, and he very nearly falls out of his seat. "...A priest? This...Father Bouhr? Yes, yes. I am aware, 'tis a name that is most well known these days. To go so far, and...yes. Most likely to gain power no doubt, and to ensure his piece of canonical law is put into place. It fits all too well." That gaze, once sharp, softens towards Valos. While the rat will never understand the elf completely, he can understand the potential horror of one's love at stake. What would he do in such a situation? The Templar can't honestly say.

"Have you this message still? The evidence would be invaluable. Then, why did you break into Miss Alazne's home? Had you some purpose more than finding her or rifling through her things?"

Count Valos has posed:
Gidarch nods, "I do have this letter. It is hidden where it will likely never be found by anyone but myself, so I would probably have to fetch the thing." He waves his hand, "I take it, that with a proper escort or two, I'd be allowed to go retrieve the envelope, so that there are witnesses that I didn't just create the thing after the fact, since I've been inside this little hole since my capture?" He nods, "You have my gratitude for being willing to assist in the decoration of Miss Alazne's achievements- for were it not for her, I fathom that you're well aware I may not have been apprehended without a fair degree of destruction."

The dark one squints, ".....Do note, Mister Senra.... that without having heard your theatrics, I'm sure that the ranking members of this institution might've been tempted to doubt the sincerity of how much effort you put into this little interrogation." He glances over to the steel door, "I know the majority of this conversation was not heard, because I know how much /I/ can hear from outside these walls, given my.... acuity in auditory talent, but.... that outburst of yours echoed through the walls themselves, indisputably." He folds his arms, "....I could not simply give you the data you desired so quickly, or they might have suspected you were party to this plot. You needed to earn it. The blood on your claws will demonstrate to what extremity your blood boiled, and verify that I did not cough up the information mindlessly, which would've looked staged.... even if we know you had no part in this little conspiracy."

He nods. -NOW- the truth becomes clear, as to why he drove Faruja to such lengths of rage, and uttered such boasts; this isn't to say the bragging was entirely fabricated, since Gidarch does have a high opinion of himself, but bringing Faruja's personal life into the foray. He closes his eyes, contemplatively, "....I did mean what I said about all voluntary action being derived from aggression, and anger, though. And I could easily prove it- but earlier when I said I wanted to instigate meditation on your part, I meant every word, so I do suggest you gnaw on it, for a bit, before spitting it out thoughtlessly. Sometimes it takes a few licks to get to the center."

Count Valos has posed:
The Count wags his wrist around uncaringly, adding, "I didn't originally enter Miss Alazne's house to steal. I went to warn her.... but things didn't go quite as planned. Surely, you can understand that even the most calculating of minds concoct designs that go awry?" He grimaces.

Faruja Senra has posed:
A flick of his tail, and the rat stifles a laugh. "But of course. We would hardly allow such a...to put it bluntly, foolish error on our part. Give me more credit than that, I am not so stupid as this face may suggest. Lightning mages, and bardic Templar will do nicely to ensure you do not try anything out of sorts." Not that he actually believes Valos would, but appearances matter, as the Count so deftly shows!

"...You cunning bastard. 'Tis naught merely in endurance that makes you a formidable opponent. Yes, so very true. Some do not trust a demi-human outsider such as myself. And rightly so! For how could a human from Ivalice know such alien intentions as my own? Yes, such a shame you have been caught in this web of lies. For all of your insanity, you are a worthy advisor." Faruja, for all of his lingering anger, looks honestly impressed, and maybe a little respectful of the man's intellect.

A shake of the head. "And 'tis all the more to make my flaws manifest. Thank you, dear Count. I have much to think upon."

The rat stands, peering over the much taller elf. "Understandable. Indeed, this information puts your actions in an entirely different light. Seems we must shorten the noose a touch for the traitor Priest."

Count Valos has posed:
Gidarch raises his eyes to fix themselves on Faruja, and he nods, "I have nothing I desire to try, Mister Senra..... but they know this not." He shrugs, "We've worked together on several occasions. It'd've seemed quite contrived if I spilled my guts sooner than you spilled my blood, eh?" He nods his head, "I have faith that what is to be, shall be. Whatever the church decides for me, I will accept, because I take responsibility for my actions, even if I was threatened into assisting with some of the plots that transpired, my.... feelings clouded my judgement, which is still an infraction against protocol- and Glabados has to maintain some discipline within the chain of command, regardless of what emotions do to their subordinates."

The dark one raises a hand and points his finger at Faruja, "I suggest you make your departure, post-haste, nonetheless.... Mister Senra. If we chew the fat together for a time, they'll wonder what took you so long to report back to them, when you've already received the most imperative information to your investigation. We don't want to give anybody any excuses to think this is some kind of farce, by indicating that you stalled the justice system's administration of penalization, correct? An empathetic bedside manner is not pivotal to an interrogation."

He folds his arms across his chest, "Good day, Mister Senra."

Faruja Senra has posed:
"Quite. The Holy Church must be strict. To spare its subordinates the rod, would allow Heresy to fluorish." Comments the Templar, packing away his notepad and pen. Starting to stand, he takes up the chair.

"Mmm. You would be surprised, it can be useful on occasion. However, your point is made. We shall see what fate befalls you. May the Lord grant you appropriate justice."

Straightening his clothes, he stalks out, tail lashing. As he leaves, he slams the door, the anger radiating off of him true enough...though perhaps not at the man in the cell, not that those the Burmecian passes could tell.

"Watch the prisoner, I am done here."