#hulrun

Started Wrath of the Righteous. It’s going well!

Or how Raphaël abandonned his dreams of priesthood and jointed the Menedvian Inquisition.

(English isn't my first language, please forgive my mistakes ;-;)

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"Raphaël Esdras."

An older human smiled kindly at the young tiefling who had just entered his office, nodding in approval. Raphaël was always diligent and on-time, it had not be ten minutes since he'd sent someone to fetch him that the priest-in-training was already there. Judging by the puzzled and slightly wary look on his face, the tiefling had no idea why he was called in his mentor's office… nor why he was there.

His mentor, Elev Beffroy, wasn't a surprise. After all, they were in his office. But why on Golarion was Hulrun Shappok there? Did the man finally find an excuse to drag him on trial?

After a brief moment, Raphaël realized he had been staring silently at the unexpected guest for a little too long, judging him as much as the inquisitor was judging him. None of them stared down, but Raphaël spoke first.

"M. Beffroy." The young man nods at his mentor, before turning to the intimidating figure that is Hulrun. "… Inquisitor."

"Please, take a seat." The priest said in his compassionate voice, kindly showing the only vacant chair in front of him and Hulrun. "I see you're not wearing your robes. Again." There was no reproach in his voice. It was merely an observation: Raphaël, once again, was not wearing his clerical gear, preferring much more practical clothes. And from the sweat beading his fur, the priest knew what the tiefling was up to..

"I'm glad to see you so eager to improve your swordfighting skills, but I'd rather see you practice your sermons. Your last ones were lacking depth if I recall correctly. Did you take into consideration my advice for your next-"

"I did." The young man objected, interrupting his mentor with a voice that he didn't want so agressive, his perpetual frown deepening ever so slightly. "I was just… Clearing my mind. I'll rewrite them tonight."

"I know you will. You're a serious young man after all."

An awkward silence ensued. Raphaël sensed there was more to this improvised reunion. Hulrun appeared to grow impatient. And Elev was… Searching his words.

"AS you can guess, I didn't call you just to exchange plesantries" Elev murmured, rummaging through his papers to avoid looking both men in the eyes. "No, I wanted to discuss your vocation as a priest."

A slight twitch on Raphaël's lips was the only sign of the anguish that grew inside him.

"You think I'm not suited to be a priest."

"I think you'd be more suited for other things." Elev answered swiftly with a sigh, lifting any possible ambiguity. He knew damn well Raphaël was not going to take that well.

The tiefling could feel his tail wrapping slightly around one of the chair legs and his claws digging just a bit too deep in his palm. Part of him hoped that his mentor would brush of his concern. That he would just wave with a chuckle, telling him it was just a mandatory meeting for every priest-in-training. That everything was fine. That he was doing a good job.

Raphaël couldn't say a world, every inches of him occupied at keeping him decently calm when he wanted to scream back at him so badly. The anger, the disappointment, the overflow of emotion he struggled to contain was probably noticed by Hulrun who decided to intervene, cutting Elev short in his speech.

"Unlike Beffroy, I don't know you personnally, boy. But if what he told me about you is right, then you definitely have nothing to do in priesthood" As hoarse as Hurlun's voice was, it remained very calm. Even quiet. The man was just stating fact. He wasn't there to start a confrontation… And he wasn't there to sugarcoat things either.

As Raphaël's was struggling to tame the inferno that was consuming his mind, Elev came to moderate his colleague's words.

"You would be a decent priest, Raphaël. But we think you'd be an excellent Inquisitor."

"I am not joining the Inquisition."

It was easy to understand Raphaël's turmoil only by looking at his eyes. They were almost glowing with rage. He was disappointed in himself, but above everything else, he was angry. At him, at them, at the world, at the Gods and everything in between. Was it too much? Probably. But he'd never been good at deal with his own emotions, especially the unpleasant ones.

"We won't force you. We just want you to think about it, maybe just-"

"Maybe just what?" Raphaël's voice was starting to crack, betraying his feelings. "What am I doing wrong? As far as I am aware, I've been studious, I've always taken into account every piece of advice I could get from you or anyone. I know I am a good fighter, a good spellcaster. I can recite Sarenrae's tennets by heart, I-"

"And how are your people skills?" Hulrun interjects, frowning. He leans a little closer to Raphael's face, clearly unimpressed by the tiefling's growing aggressiveness. "A priest is expected to officiate Mass, to guide people to their God, to show them the way, to help them during their most difficult moments, and to demonstrate compassion and kindness. Tell me, Raphael, how will your sword-fighting skills help in such situations? Do you intend to intimidate your followers into obeying her tenets? Are you devoted to Sarenrae or Asmodeus?"

Hulrun's words felt like a stab not just in his heart, but in his soul. Oh how he wanted to scream at him, to punch him in the face for these words. It was definitely ironic coming from Shappok, but deep down, Raphaël knew the prelate was right: He was downright terrible at anything that involved working with the community. For all his strentghs and qualities, he lacked all the social skills that would make a good priest. He could be the most devoted sarenite of all Mendev, He could pray days and nights til his knees were bleeding and bruised, it wouldn't change his uneasiness among people. His difficulties to mingle with others. His distant, cold behavior. His naturally intimidating presence.

His rampant anger issues.

His personnal Hellfire became a bit too much to control, and he slammed his fist on the desk, standing up. His tail angrily whipped the air behind him, and the snarl he struggled to contain revealed his sharp teeth.

"You don't know me."

And just like that, the tiefling left the office in a fury, slamming the door with violence.

Shaken -albeit not surprised- by his student's behaviour, Elev didn't know what to say to Hulrun.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think it would escalate this quickly."

"I understand that this isn't an isolated event."

Elev's silence was enough of an answer. Hulrun frowned, pondering his thoughts for a moment. "You know we would have avoided this all if you would have been honest with me right at the beginning."

"What do you mean?"

"You never told me he was a tiefling."

Elev sighed. "I never said he wasn't one."

Hulrun stayed silent, narrowing his eyes slightly before letting out a long, heartfelt sigh.

"I would have never even consdiered accepting one of them in our ranks a few years ago."

"But time has changed."

"And the situation of this country didn't. We're still dealing with demons raiding our towns and villages, cultists hiding in plain sight, and good men and women being corrupted by the evergrowing power of the Abyss. Accepting a tiefling in our rank would just be begging for a disaster to happen."

"Then you'll be relief to learn that Raphaël isn't a product of the Worldwound. He's a Hellspawn."

"Is this supposed to make this any better? Besides, why are you defending him so much? Wasn't his literal outburst of rage enough to prove he's not fit to be a priest, let alone an inquisitor? Why do you insist on defending him so much, Elev?"

For the first time since this whole confrontation, Elev raised his voice slightly. It was somehow still lower than Hulrun's regular tone, but the difference was enough to draw a puzzled reaction from the prelate.

"Because I know him well, Hulrun. I've seen him grow up. From the little kid that swore he'd kill all the demons himself to the young man he is today. Hells, I was the one to find him first, abandonned on the stairs of our orphanage!"

Hulrun sighed. Elev was getting emotionnal, and he knew he wasn't going to change his old friend's opinion. Still, part of him… Trusted Elev. He was a man of reason despite it all.

Before the priest could narrate more or less accurately his memories, Hulrun cut him short in his rambles.

"Fine. I'll go talk to him." He grunted "I've tamed worse, anyway"

"You'll find him on the highest balcony. He always go there when… Ah- When these kind of things happen." He said, before smiling slightly at Shappok

"Good luck."

-

Prelate Hulrun misses the meaning of certain signs in this @owlcatober while focusing on duty to get through them.

[Ao3 Link]

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When all else failed, a man at arms could trust in his duty as a reason to go on.

That was what Hulrun Shappok used as his bedrock over the long decades. It was his duty to the Mendevian people, to Golarion as a whole, to stand firm against the horrors of chaos. 

The light of his torch flickered as he made his way through the night. Light always flickered when he needed it for himself. He could remember a time when it had not, back when he was young. Before the brutality of his first crusade - the third of such campaigns. Somehow, that was when he noticed the lights flickering more and more.

As explained in Mix's intro post, he kills Hulrun because he sees him as a danger due to his inability to act correctly when not being overseen.

HERE. HERE WE SEE LIOTR ALREADY TRIED. This guy truly thinks he had Hulrun handled. And yet? Hulrun was out here killing people he shouldn't. He doesn't learn. If you're not ON HIM nothing you do actually sticks or lasts. So, yea, Mix is so much more vindicated in killing him after hearing this. And disappointed in Liotr thinking this was enough.