“So, brother, I must know, how did you receive your Ruby Rose?” Varien asked Tiberius. “I am curious.” Tiberius smiled knowingly at Varien. “As you might recall from my book, I grew up in the Temple of Beauty with my twin brother, and watched in awe as brothers and sisters were inducted into the ranks of the Order of the Ruby Rose. I became convinced my destiny lay in fighting for Sune on the field of battle, and when I came of age, I prostrated myself in the grand sanctuary of Beauty’s Temple before the great statue of Sune, and became lost in fervent prayer. After maintaining my vigil in the Temple all night, I received a sign of the Lady’s favour – the amulet I had worn round my neck since childhood was imbued with Lady Firehair’s love, and glowed brightly of its own volition with an inner light. The leader of the Order at the time, Sir Johannus Hoff, then gifted me a ruby rose, cultivated by none other than Nero of the Garden himself.” “So, you were pretty much bred for the role, in other words?” Varien asked. “Indeed I was,” Tiberius said with a sigh. “And how about you, brother?” Varien told Tiberius the tale of his encounter with Sune in the inn back in Phandalin, as he had lit a prayer candle and sought Lady Firehair’s counsel. The candle had flared with supernatural brightness as Sune answered his prayers: “My loving servant, hear me. Lose yourself in the love of the Lady Firehair. Follow your heart to your true destination. He who vexes you follows his own heart’s passion, and passion can be beautiful in hidden ways. Remember my teaching: ‘Encourage beauty wherever you find it.’ Love those who travel the road beside you, and where love cannot take root, let warm friendship blossom. Where friendship cannot flower, choose the fairer path, and uncouple gracefully but with joy for having walked together for a time. And where an uncoupling is not accompanied by grace, raise not your sword, but a rose, and remember fairer times. Love has many splendours, even where love fails. Lose yourself in the love of Lady Firehair.” He told Tiberius that after he had turned back to his bedside, he saw a vibrant, ruby-coloured rose lying upon his pillow. Tiberius listened to Varien’s story intently and was impressed. Varien thought he detected a hint of envy behind Tiberius’s eyes as he related the story of how Sune had granted him a ruby rose manifested out of thin air, perfect and uncorrupted. “It would seem that Sune favours you, brother,” Tiberius said. Varien shook his head modestly. “No, it’s just that unlike you, opportunities were taken away from me by dark forces, and Sune had to bless me herself, instead of blessing via holy intermediaries the way you and your brother have been blessed, through mortal ways. Sune doesn’t care how we got our roses; She just cares that we both got them.” Tiberius chuckled, even as he wiped away a manly tear or two from his shining eyes. “Varien Aether, the theologian! You are a good man indeed,” he said, looking at Varien with newfound respect. “We need good men like you among the Sisters and Brothers of the Ruby Rose, on the front lines, and I know that you could marshal a battalion to follow you with your devotion and wisdom.” There was a soft gonging sound as Nero stood before the assembled delegations. The sanctuary quieted. “Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed members of the Church of Sune, and distinguished guests, we have gathered here today in the radiant light of Lady Firehair, the goddess of beauty and love, to witness and celebrate the finest attributes of the heart, soul, and form. This is a day of elegance, grace, and the pursuit of perfection in all its myriad forms.” “In the grand tradition of the Church of Sune, we shall now open the proceedings with a formal declaration of candidacy for the High Priest or Priestess position in the Temple of Beauty, the paramount position of leadership within our faith across Faerun,” Nero continued. He stretched out his hands towards a small dais before him, upon which were arrayed a dozen or so small ivory figurines of rather androgynous shape. Naes Inuus made a show of stepping forward towards the altar, reaching for one of the figurines and kneeling before the altar as he uttered a short prayer of resolute devotion. There was a flash of light and the figurine in his hand suddenly changed into a finely-detailed scale model of himself, down to the clothes he was wearing. Naes reverently placed the small figurine on the pedestal atop the altar and stepped away respectfully, allowing the next candidate the opportunity to come forward. Bob was the next candidate to step forward. He picked up a figurine, knelt, and began to pray. There was a flash, and suddenly he was holding a small version of himself. He stood, letting the tears of evergold flow, while ensuring that the assembled throng saw them as well. He even let a few golden teardrops fall onto his figurine before placing it upon the pedestal. Siegfried moved towards the altar. There was a concerned murmur from the assembly. He picked up a figurine and uttered a prayer. “I condemn my soul to any god who can find it,” he muttered. “Sune, if you want to offer me a job, I’m listening.” Siegfried paused and gripped the figurine anew, but received no outward divine response. He shrugged and with grace, replaced the blank figurine from where he’d picked it up, and respectfully moved back out of the way. As he did saw, he caught the sensation of frission between the two priestesses from the Sea of Fallen Stars delegation, Lady Morlain and Aumreya Ulmdrin, both of whom were now rushing to the altar. There were short prayers followed by flashes of light, and soon miniature versions of the priestesses had joined Naes’s and Bob’s figurines on the pedestal. “I’m not judging, I’m just questioning,” Siegfried half-muttered, half-prayed. “Do you really think either of those two would do a better job than me?” He felt a whisper on the back of his neck. “They have paid their dues and served me well these many years and are afforded such an opportunity,” Sune’s voice was like a crystal waterfall. “Your destiny lies along a different path, Siegfried Alagondar.” “Well, I wouldn’t say no to your company,” Siegfried replied. “Few would,” Sune’s lilting voice was laced with humour. “Okay,” Siegfried shrugged, then straightened up. “Hey, is that what divine revelation feels like?” He stood next to Bob in a show of support. There was a moment of reverential silence. Siegfried approached Raven Sommersrace and Malwe-sha. “So then, we’re agreed: any vote for Aumreya or Morlain is a vote to schism the church?” Siegfried said. “Neither of them may lead. It must be either Bob or Naes.” Malwe-sha nodded. “I fear they would allow their personal feelings to interfere with church business.” Raven nodded in agreement. “As much as I respect and love my dear friend Bob, I respect Naes’s ability to lead as well,” Siegfried said. “Either one of them would be a worthy candidate.” Raven nodded. “You’re right, there are two contenders in this field. One familiar, and one not.” Bob considered the field of delegates and mentally tallied the votes that were likely leaning his way. There were a few question marks as far as he was concerned, but he’d had his fill of politicking today and decided to check in with Varien and Siegfried before the proceedings got further underway. Another murmur swept across the assembly as Varien approached the altar and selected a figurine. He knelt, uttered a prayer, and with a flash of light his figurine turned into a magnificently detailed version of himself, Fiendsbane drawn and glowing, the flames of the Arcetalos blazing around him. Varien felt a thrill go down his spine as a sensation like Sune’s lips brushing against the nape of his neck came over him. Oh, Varien, I didn’t know you cared. Varien looked at the figurine in his hands as he remained on his knees before the altar. He bent forward and gently kissed the figurine on its forehead, and carefully placed the model upon the pedestal. He got to his feet and walked back to his place as the crowd murmured. Siegfried sent a message to Varien. I didn’t expect you to apply for a desk job. But it will help you on your way North. From across the room, Tiberius gave Varien an almost imperceptible nod of approval. As Varien walked past him, Tiberius whispered, “this changes the landscape of the battlefield somewhat.” “Do you disapprove?” Varien asked quietly. Tiberius smiled and gave Varien a wink in reply. Varien also noticed that Mera Cornyrian from Helm’s Hold was now staring at him with a look of fervent devotion. Finally, one of these Westerners is cleaning up their own mess , Bob thought to himself. Nero raised a perfectly-manicured eyebrow as if daring another candidate to come forward. None did. “Hail the Heir of Abbadon!” Siegfried called out in basso profundo . “Hail the Liberator of the Arcetalos! Hail the Slayer of the Balor and Cleanser of Beauty’s Temple!” He clanged the hilt of Azuredge on the marble floor. “The Scion of the North! The Son of Lorelei!” Varien shook his head, letting his dark locks bounce performatively as he ran a polished gauntlet through his hair. Fiendsbane began to glow. The rank-and-file members of the martial orders present began to pick up Siegfried’s chant, especially those who had witnessed some of Varien’s most spectacular battles. Amongst the delegates, Mera enthusiastically joined the chant. Celia Orlyar looked enthralled at the proceedings as a groundswell of support reverberated through the sanctuary. Nero stepped forward, motioning smoothly for calm to quiet the crowd, which obediently fell into a reverent hush. “Delegates, distinguished guests, and candidates, we are about to begin our proceedings in accordance with the holy writ of our Church’s esteemed forebears,” Nero said. “We shall commence with the three-fold competition. First, those who are prepared to shoulder the burden of leadership shall weave words as fine as silk, eloquent and enchanting, to extol the virtues of love, beauty, and the divine presence of our goddess. They shall sway hearts and kindle flames in the depths of the soul with their oratorical skills.” “Next, we shall be enraptured by an artistic competition, where our talented esthetes and craefters shall display their masterpieces. These creations are more than mere art; they are a testament to the devotion and inspiration drawn from Lady Firehair herself. Each stroke of the brush, every note of music, and the poetry written are offerings to the goddess of beauty today.” “Then comes the physical beauty competition, where we celebrate the divine forms that Lady Sune herself has graced us with. Our candidates, draped in the elegance of simplicity, shall parade their physical beauty before us, a reflection of Sune's radiant light. Remember, it is not only the external beauty but also the inner radiance that shines through.” “In our Church, leadership is not just about titles; it is about the devotion, passion, and mastery one displays. We honor artistic achievements, years of dedicated service, and the personal beauty and adornment that is a testament to our love for Lady Sune. We advise and assist our fellow clerics, nurturing their talents and guiding them toward excellence.” “Remember that our titles are not mere labels but reflections of our deepest passions and achievements. They are bestowed upon us by those who recognize our contributions, be they fellow Sunites or companions on our adventurous journeys.” “So, as we gather today in the name of Sune, let us celebrate the beauty that surrounds us in all its forms. Let us honour the artistic endeavors and the devotion that fuels them. And let us embrace the radiant love of our goddess, for in her grace, we find the truest and most profound beauty.” “May Lady Firehair's light forever grace our lives, and may we continue to inspire and uplift each other in the name of love and beauty,” Nero raised his hands to the vaulted roof above. “Thank you, and let the competition begin!” There was a raucous cheer from the assembled throng. What have I done? Varien thought to himself for a moment, his confidence wavering. Siegfried sent a message to Varien. If your artistic display is the blade I will be your canvas. He then leaned over to Thauna Maskalar. “So who are you voting for?” he asked sotto voce . Thauna flinched. “Well, I just don’t know, the choices appeared to have increased somewhat.” “Yes, the candidates are very handsome, aren’t they?” Siegfried replied. Thauna’s eyes twinkled. “They certainly are.”