Saus
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Re: Saus
It was a beautiful day, really. The sky was clear of clouds, a startling azure blue. The sun was bright but not too harsh. The wind blew through the trees and grass, off in the distance some deer ran across a pasture... It was all so peaceful.
It was enough to make Argus very, very nervous. Since when had he had a peaceful day? Surely there must be a troll, or worse, a Mesuinu hiding behind some bushes. Or worst of all... a half-troll Mesuinu. The horror...
Wait. Could trolls and humans even... Naaah. At least there was one nightmare he didn't have to worry about.
After a while, the lovely day and the peaceful swaying of the cart made even Argus relax. It was perfect, except-
"SNARRRK."
-except brother Miguel snored. Loudly. And not with any pattern. He just intermittently made a noise that belonged in the butcher shop of horrors. It was enough to send deer a mile away racing for the forest. Flocks of birds took to the sky. It broadcast their presence for what had to be miles. But at least it kept Argus alert.
Up ahead, Argus saw two figures walking along the road. Two young, rather attractive, definitely FEMALE figures. The two women turned at the sound of the cart and started waving excitedly.
Oh, weave. Hitchhikers. Not in this lifetime. Especially not with his paranoia at an all-time high. Not even for hot women. Wearing rather suggestive clothing in an obvious, and in other circumstances successful, attempt to get someone to give them a ride.
Argus' expression must have revealed his thoughts, because the two women turned to each other, started talking, and turned back to the cart with a far more polite and reserved attitude. Argus was somewhat unmoved. Dare they take the risk?
And then one girl hiked up her friend's shirt.
The term "deer in mage-lights," somewhat inverted, perfectly described Argus' reaction.
As the two started arguing, amid the screams of outrage (from the hikee) and laughter (from the hiker) it occurred to Argus that he couldn't just let these two fine, firm young ladies all aboobies in the wild woah. Certainly he could stop for them and give their gorgeous, toned bodies a lift!
"SNAZZZZORRRKKKGUKKK!!"
The sound Miguel made just then defied description. It was like the most disgusting volcano in the world suddenly decided to have a phlegm erruption. It was enough to make all other sounds quiet in comparison. In the sudden deathly silence (even the horses had stopped dead in shock) the two lovely hitchhikers and their lovely assets turned to Argus with an expression of horror. Looked at Argus. At each other. At Miguel. And decided that walking really wasn't that bad after all, judging by the speed with which they took off away from the road.
Argus watched them run away dispiritedly. Beside him, Miguel snored in a more normal way and shifted slightly. With a groan, Argus started the cart moving again.
Godsdammit, Miguel.
It was enough to make Argus very, very nervous. Since when had he had a peaceful day? Surely there must be a troll, or worse, a Mesuinu hiding behind some bushes. Or worst of all... a half-troll Mesuinu. The horror...
Wait. Could trolls and humans even... Naaah. At least there was one nightmare he didn't have to worry about.
After a while, the lovely day and the peaceful swaying of the cart made even Argus relax. It was perfect, except-
"SNARRRK."
-except brother Miguel snored. Loudly. And not with any pattern. He just intermittently made a noise that belonged in the butcher shop of horrors. It was enough to send deer a mile away racing for the forest. Flocks of birds took to the sky. It broadcast their presence for what had to be miles. But at least it kept Argus alert.
Up ahead, Argus saw two figures walking along the road. Two young, rather attractive, definitely FEMALE figures. The two women turned at the sound of the cart and started waving excitedly.
Oh, weave. Hitchhikers. Not in this lifetime. Especially not with his paranoia at an all-time high. Not even for hot women. Wearing rather suggestive clothing in an obvious, and in other circumstances successful, attempt to get someone to give them a ride.
Argus' expression must have revealed his thoughts, because the two women turned to each other, started talking, and turned back to the cart with a far more polite and reserved attitude. Argus was somewhat unmoved. Dare they take the risk?
And then one girl hiked up her friend's shirt.
The term "deer in mage-lights," somewhat inverted, perfectly described Argus' reaction.
As the two started arguing, amid the screams of outrage (from the hikee) and laughter (from the hiker) it occurred to Argus that he couldn't just let these two fine, firm young ladies all aboobies in the wild woah. Certainly he could stop for them and give their gorgeous, toned bodies a lift!
"SNAZZZZORRRKKKGUKKK!!"
The sound Miguel made just then defied description. It was like the most disgusting volcano in the world suddenly decided to have a phlegm erruption. It was enough to make all other sounds quiet in comparison. In the sudden deathly silence (even the horses had stopped dead in shock) the two lovely hitchhikers and their lovely assets turned to Argus with an expression of horror. Looked at Argus. At each other. At Miguel. And decided that walking really wasn't that bad after all, judging by the speed with which they took off away from the road.
Argus watched them run away dispiritedly. Beside him, Miguel snored in a more normal way and shifted slightly. With a groan, Argus started the cart moving again.
Godsdammit, Miguel.
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Re: Saus
Brother Miguel stretched and yawned as the wagon ground to a halt. "Did I miss anything interesting while I was out? ... Oh." They'd been traveling together for long enough now that he knew that, if Argus responded to one of his questions with that particular facial expression, he didn't really want to hear the answer. No matter; according to the road sign next to the wagon, they'd arrived at Heamish safe and sound. From the look of it, they'd even made very good time. The sun was still above the horizon, shedding enough light that they could see a handful of houses on the main street, a general store or two, and in the distance, what looked like a small temple of the Veracian Church. Farmland stretched away on the rolling hills to the south; the rock formation of the Sleeping Sexton, north of the road, wasn't suitable for farming, but they could make out a working mine on its slopes. Nothing looked terribly prosperous about the place, but it wasn't totally run down either -- just another small rural town, like thousands of others in the hinterlands of Veracia.
"Well, let's get on with it," Miguel said as he and Argus watched the wagon trundle back toward Saus. "We need to find Father Egbert's sister and brother-in-law. Excuse me," he called to a young girl who'd come from a side road to investigate the commotion, carrying what looked like school textbooks and a note pad. "Do you know where the Hamael family lives?"
The girl's eyes got wide. With her free hand, she made the Sign of Luminosita, then ran away down the road the wagon had just come from, without saying a word.
"Hmmm ... that was odd," Miguel said. A boy of about the same age was approaching from the side road. Miguel asked him the same question, and got the same reaction. Another girl followed a short distance behind him; this one didn't bother with the Sign of Luminosita, but just took off running.
"Now what in Luminosita's Name is going on here?"
"Well, let's get on with it," Miguel said as he and Argus watched the wagon trundle back toward Saus. "We need to find Father Egbert's sister and brother-in-law. Excuse me," he called to a young girl who'd come from a side road to investigate the commotion, carrying what looked like school textbooks and a note pad. "Do you know where the Hamael family lives?"
The girl's eyes got wide. With her free hand, she made the Sign of Luminosita, then ran away down the road the wagon had just come from, without saying a word.
"Hmmm ... that was odd," Miguel said. A boy of about the same age was approaching from the side road. Miguel asked him the same question, and got the same reaction. Another girl followed a short distance behind him; this one didn't bother with the Sign of Luminosita, but just took off running.
"Now what in Luminosita's Name is going on here?"
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Re: Saus
Somewhere far away, a small figure hurried through the brush. This was a source of annoyance, as the figure was not used to rushing. Rushing sucked. But this was different. This was important. It had been years...
The figure fell flat on its face. "Gordarnit!!" Falling hurt. Screw it. I WILL find him. He won't get away...
The figure clambered to its feet and started running again. Towards one man. One target.
Argus Cleiviein...
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Argus looked around. This was rapidly getting them nowhere. Just say the word 'Hamael' and people went running. That was rather impressive when the wheelchair-bound old lady hopped off her chair and went tearing off at record speeds.
Obviously, certain people were not well regarded around these parts. Which led to an idea.
Argus walked up to an older man who came down the road and smiled politely. "Excuse me. What part of town should we endeavor to avoid?"
The old man (a farmer?) blinked in surprise. "Why... the whole town's pleasant stranger! You won't find nicer people in all of Veracia! ...'Course I may be biased, there..." the elderly farmer admitted. "Still..." and here he leaned in conspiratorially. "Don't head over yonder. The folks there... they be a bad sort, if you get my meaning."
"You mean the Hamaels?" asked Argus, looking in the direction the man had pointed.
Silence. When Argus looked back, the farmer was already disappearing over the hill. Wow. Healthy people here. Must be something in the soil.
Argus turned back to Brother Miguel. "Well. Found 'em."
The figure fell flat on its face. "Gordarnit!!" Falling hurt. Screw it. I WILL find him. He won't get away...
The figure clambered to its feet and started running again. Towards one man. One target.
Argus Cleiviein...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Argus looked around. This was rapidly getting them nowhere. Just say the word 'Hamael' and people went running. That was rather impressive when the wheelchair-bound old lady hopped off her chair and went tearing off at record speeds.
Obviously, certain people were not well regarded around these parts. Which led to an idea.
Argus walked up to an older man who came down the road and smiled politely. "Excuse me. What part of town should we endeavor to avoid?"
The old man (a farmer?) blinked in surprise. "Why... the whole town's pleasant stranger! You won't find nicer people in all of Veracia! ...'Course I may be biased, there..." the elderly farmer admitted. "Still..." and here he leaned in conspiratorially. "Don't head over yonder. The folks there... they be a bad sort, if you get my meaning."
"You mean the Hamaels?" asked Argus, looking in the direction the man had pointed.
Silence. When Argus looked back, the farmer was already disappearing over the hill. Wow. Healthy people here. Must be something in the soil.
Argus turned back to Brother Miguel. "Well. Found 'em."
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Re: Saus
Brother Miguel watched the pilgrimage of people fleeing from the mention of the Hamael name, his puzzlement growing by the minute.
As the farmer disappeared over the hill, Miguel said to Argus, "Nicely done. At least we know which way to go from here. However, before we do it, I'd like to get a better idea of why we're getting that kind of reaction from people. Please indulge me for a few minutes." He started walking toward the Veracian Church temple.
The church was farther away, and larger, than they'd thought, but it was still small by the standards of such things, certainly smaller than the mission in Kiyoka. However, it was also considerably more ornate. The steeple appeared to be gilded (surely it couldn't have been made of solid gold), based on the way it reflected the light of the sun, now approaching the horizon. The main building behind the steeple appeared to be surmounted by a low dome, as though replicating the one at the great temple in Emerylon. As the men drew closer, they could see stained-glass windows trimmed in what looked like furs -- an odd thing to have on the outside of a church, Argus thought, but perhaps the fur-bearing wildlife of the area was abundant enough to allow frequent replacements. The walls had a liberal sprinkling of some shiny, sparkling nuggets set into the stucco-like surface. Before going to the front door (large, made of some dark-colored wood, and extravagantly carved with images of Luminosita slaying all manner of monsters), Miguel and Argus stopped to look at the sparkles -- not diamonds, but some kind of crystals that might qualify as "semi-precious stones."
"I thought as much," Miguel said. "In most small towns in Veracia, if they only have the population and money to support a single denomination of the Church, it'll be an Orthodox temple. Their attitude toward ornamentation is ... different ... from ours in the Reformed branch. I suspect that when we get inside, you'll be quite surprised by the display of riches and wealth."
Well, actually, he wouldn't be surprised; that was one of the things that gave the Veracian Church a bad name in certain quarters. But Argus held his tongue as Miguel tried the church door. "Locked," he said. "That's a bit unusual at this time of day. Let's see if there's a parsonage around in back; this place isn't big enough to have a full-blown cloister."
Indeed there was, a small, plain house with none of the ostentation of the temple itself. Miguel paused to cast his Truth spell -- "Just in case," he commented dryly to Argus -- and pulled the bell cord.
Moments later, an elderly man, thin and bent under the weight of ages but still wearing the robes of a priest, answered and opened the door. "May I help you?" he asked, with a hint of an accent that neither Miguel nor Argus recognized.
As the farmer disappeared over the hill, Miguel said to Argus, "Nicely done. At least we know which way to go from here. However, before we do it, I'd like to get a better idea of why we're getting that kind of reaction from people. Please indulge me for a few minutes." He started walking toward the Veracian Church temple.
The church was farther away, and larger, than they'd thought, but it was still small by the standards of such things, certainly smaller than the mission in Kiyoka. However, it was also considerably more ornate. The steeple appeared to be gilded (surely it couldn't have been made of solid gold), based on the way it reflected the light of the sun, now approaching the horizon. The main building behind the steeple appeared to be surmounted by a low dome, as though replicating the one at the great temple in Emerylon. As the men drew closer, they could see stained-glass windows trimmed in what looked like furs -- an odd thing to have on the outside of a church, Argus thought, but perhaps the fur-bearing wildlife of the area was abundant enough to allow frequent replacements. The walls had a liberal sprinkling of some shiny, sparkling nuggets set into the stucco-like surface. Before going to the front door (large, made of some dark-colored wood, and extravagantly carved with images of Luminosita slaying all manner of monsters), Miguel and Argus stopped to look at the sparkles -- not diamonds, but some kind of crystals that might qualify as "semi-precious stones."
"I thought as much," Miguel said. "In most small towns in Veracia, if they only have the population and money to support a single denomination of the Church, it'll be an Orthodox temple. Their attitude toward ornamentation is ... different ... from ours in the Reformed branch. I suspect that when we get inside, you'll be quite surprised by the display of riches and wealth."
Well, actually, he wouldn't be surprised; that was one of the things that gave the Veracian Church a bad name in certain quarters. But Argus held his tongue as Miguel tried the church door. "Locked," he said. "That's a bit unusual at this time of day. Let's see if there's a parsonage around in back; this place isn't big enough to have a full-blown cloister."
Indeed there was, a small, plain house with none of the ostentation of the temple itself. Miguel paused to cast his Truth spell -- "Just in case," he commented dryly to Argus -- and pulled the bell cord.
Moments later, an elderly man, thin and bent under the weight of ages but still wearing the robes of a priest, answered and opened the door. "May I help you?" he asked, with a hint of an accent that neither Miguel nor Argus recognized.
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Re: Saus
"Pardon me, sir," Argus said politely, "But my companion and I were wondering if we could have a word with you."
The priest's brow furrowed. "Well... I certainly won't stop you," he said in consternation. "There's an outhouse just over there."
The following silence was... profound. And confused. Somewhat blank-faced as well. Off in the distance, a crow's call could be heard. Argus put his question next to the response. No relation there whatsoever. Was the old man senile?
"What?" he asked. It summed the situation up neatly.
"Well, didn't you say that you and your friend wanted to have a-"
"We said we wanted to talk to you!" yelped Argus. Brother Miguel's expression was beyond description.
"Oh! Sorry about that. Hearing isn't what it used to be. Let me get my ear-trumpet." The old priest started fishing around in his robes while Argus and Brother Miguel looked at each other with growing dismay. It was going to be one of those days... again.
"What were your names again?" asked the old priest, fiddling with a decidely antique-looking... something in his hands.
"I'm Argus, and this is Brother Miguel," said the former, forgetting to talk loudly.
"Bargle and Bobby-mook? Odd names, but who am I to criticize?" Argus facepalmed, and Brother looked to the heavens, muttering some sort of prayer. Probably begging for patience. The priest finished messing with the object and put a part of it up to his ear. "Well, my name is Father Rilus. How may I be of service to you two young ladies?"
The Father's eyesight was clearly going as well.
The priest's brow furrowed. "Well... I certainly won't stop you," he said in consternation. "There's an outhouse just over there."
The following silence was... profound. And confused. Somewhat blank-faced as well. Off in the distance, a crow's call could be heard. Argus put his question next to the response. No relation there whatsoever. Was the old man senile?
"What?" he asked. It summed the situation up neatly.
"Well, didn't you say that you and your friend wanted to have a-"
"We said we wanted to talk to you!" yelped Argus. Brother Miguel's expression was beyond description.
"Oh! Sorry about that. Hearing isn't what it used to be. Let me get my ear-trumpet." The old priest started fishing around in his robes while Argus and Brother Miguel looked at each other with growing dismay. It was going to be one of those days... again.
"What were your names again?" asked the old priest, fiddling with a decidely antique-looking... something in his hands.
"I'm Argus, and this is Brother Miguel," said the former, forgetting to talk loudly.
"Bargle and Bobby-mook? Odd names, but who am I to criticize?" Argus facepalmed, and Brother looked to the heavens, muttering some sort of prayer. Probably begging for patience. The priest finished messing with the object and put a part of it up to his ear. "Well, my name is Father Rilus. How may I be of service to you two young ladies?"
The Father's eyesight was clearly going as well.
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Re: Saus
Brother Miguel wasn't just praying, Argus realized; he was casting some manner of unfamiliar spell. When he finished, the air grew curiously calm, almost crystalline, and Miguel's next few words had a clarity and crispness to them to match. "Let's try this again. Greetings, Father Rilus. I am Brother Miguel and this is my colleague Dr. Cleveland. The Cardinal Inquisitor has launched an investigation of a problem in the Church -- nothing involving you or your congregation here in Heamish, I assure you, but Dr. Cleveland and I are charged to do some fact finding, and we hope that you can help us." All of which was true, if not nearly as causally correlated as one might conclude from his choice of words.
The old man brightened. "Well, why didn't you say so?" he asked, leaving his ear trumpet in his robes. "I'll be glad to help. Cardinal Cosmo and I were in seminary together, and..."
"We don't want to take too much of your time," Miguel interrupted hurriedly; best if Father Rilus not think overlong about his connection to the Cardinal Inquisitor. "As I say, our inquiries have nothing to do with your church, as far as we know. However, we'd like to speak to a couple of your parishioners, a Mr. and Mrs. Hamael. Do you know where we might find them?" He braced for the same near-hysterical response as with the people on the street, and hoped the old man would survive it.
Nothing of the sort happened, however. "Why, surely," the old man said, as comfortably as though they'd asked about the health of the roses growing outside the house. "They live in a nice little house on Jeramel Road. Just go back down Main Street about three blocks, turn toward the Sleeping Sexton, go another three or four blocks, and it'll be on your right."
Argus and Miguel exchanged a look; why such a different reaction compared to what they'd been getting? But the old priest wasn't done. "It wouldn't be a good idea for you to go there alone today, though. Wilbur Hamael works in a mine up on the Sleeping Sexton. He probably won't be home until tomorrow morning, and if two strange men paid an evening visit to his wife unescorted, tongues would wag. The town is very, I would say, traditional about such things. HILDEGARD!" The last was bellowed at such a volume that Argus and Miguel jumped.
"Oh... sorry," Rilus said. "My housekeeper. I'll ask her to accompany you." He looked up as a middle-aged woman in a plain dress and an apron came through an interior door.
"Woman" barely did her justice, actually; "female fortress" was more like it. She was a good six feet tall, nearly three feet wide at the shoulders, with not a curve in sight. Miguel's immediate reaction was Wow -- built like a brick outhouse with a head; Argus' was nearly identical, if slightly more scatological.
"Yes, Father?" the imposing woman asked, in a mild, if rather loud, voice.
The old man brightened. "Well, why didn't you say so?" he asked, leaving his ear trumpet in his robes. "I'll be glad to help. Cardinal Cosmo and I were in seminary together, and..."
"We don't want to take too much of your time," Miguel interrupted hurriedly; best if Father Rilus not think overlong about his connection to the Cardinal Inquisitor. "As I say, our inquiries have nothing to do with your church, as far as we know. However, we'd like to speak to a couple of your parishioners, a Mr. and Mrs. Hamael. Do you know where we might find them?" He braced for the same near-hysterical response as with the people on the street, and hoped the old man would survive it.
Nothing of the sort happened, however. "Why, surely," the old man said, as comfortably as though they'd asked about the health of the roses growing outside the house. "They live in a nice little house on Jeramel Road. Just go back down Main Street about three blocks, turn toward the Sleeping Sexton, go another three or four blocks, and it'll be on your right."
Argus and Miguel exchanged a look; why such a different reaction compared to what they'd been getting? But the old priest wasn't done. "It wouldn't be a good idea for you to go there alone today, though. Wilbur Hamael works in a mine up on the Sleeping Sexton. He probably won't be home until tomorrow morning, and if two strange men paid an evening visit to his wife unescorted, tongues would wag. The town is very, I would say, traditional about such things. HILDEGARD!" The last was bellowed at such a volume that Argus and Miguel jumped.
"Oh... sorry," Rilus said. "My housekeeper. I'll ask her to accompany you." He looked up as a middle-aged woman in a plain dress and an apron came through an interior door.
"Woman" barely did her justice, actually; "female fortress" was more like it. She was a good six feet tall, nearly three feet wide at the shoulders, with not a curve in sight. Miguel's immediate reaction was Wow -- built like a brick outhouse with a head; Argus' was nearly identical, if slightly more scatological.
"Yes, Father?" the imposing woman asked, in a mild, if rather loud, voice.
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Re: Saus
[OOC: Where did everybody go? Just to keep the ball rolling here... /OOC:]
Despite her imposing demeanor, Hildegard the housekeeper turned out to be quite a mild-mannered and pleasant person. They made small talk as they headed for the Hamael house, and Brother Miguel asked about the furs adorning the temple windows. "They're Veracian swamp beaver pelts," Hildegard said. "Famous for their toughness and resistance to weather damage. The town used to make a lot of money off the beaver-fur trade, which is why they're up there. That fell off about 30 years ago, because the beaver population crashed. Now, though, they seem to be coming back, lots of young ones out there. Almost makes you wonder if a horny male swamp beaver has moved back into town," she said in a joking tone of voice -- but looked abashed when she saw the expression on Argus' face.
They walked in silence for a minute or two, then Miguel decided to broach what might be a delicate subject. "If you don't mind, maybe you could clear up a puzzle for us. When we got into town, we asked a bunch of different people for directions to the Hamael house, and they all acted as if they'd seen a ghost. We were worried that we'd asked directions to a den of werewolves or vampires or such. Yet here you and Father Rilus are, not fazed by the question in the least. Why the different reaction?"
"Well, mainly it's that the Hamaels aren't from around here," Hildegard answered. "Like many small towns, Heamish is full of people who don't take too well to strangers. The Hamaels haven't been here long enough to get accepted by the townsfolk, and so they're treated like they're alien beings."
"How long does that acceptance take?" Miguel asked.
"Oh, thirty years or so." Miguel winced at the very casual, off-hand answer as Hildegard continued, "But the Father and me not being from Heamish either, that don't bother us at all. There's also a little thing about religious practice. The temple is Orthodox, as you can see, and so are almost all of the Veracian Church members in town. The Hamaels, on the other hand, are Millenarians -- pretty strange denomination if you ask me, but all the branches of the Church are supposed to try to get along. Thing is, though, nobody ever told the townsfolk that, and they don't like having Millenarians among them. I feel sorry for what the Hamael kids will go through once they get to school age."
They were approaching the end of the lane now, and a very mundane house was awaiting them about half a block away. Rather than proceeding to the front door, however, Hildegard pulled Argus and Miguel up short. "Oh ... there's one other thing before we get there. I never paid much attention to it myself; the Hamaels come to temple regular as you please, they go to the smitings, Mrs. Hamael even sings in the choir, not real good but her heart's in the right place. She's pretty regular people there, even though some of the congregation don't treat her real well.
"But Mr. Hamael, now ... Like I said, I don't put much stock in it myself, but some folks in town say that up there at that mine where he works, he dabbles in the ... occult."
Despite her imposing demeanor, Hildegard the housekeeper turned out to be quite a mild-mannered and pleasant person. They made small talk as they headed for the Hamael house, and Brother Miguel asked about the furs adorning the temple windows. "They're Veracian swamp beaver pelts," Hildegard said. "Famous for their toughness and resistance to weather damage. The town used to make a lot of money off the beaver-fur trade, which is why they're up there. That fell off about 30 years ago, because the beaver population crashed. Now, though, they seem to be coming back, lots of young ones out there. Almost makes you wonder if a horny male swamp beaver has moved back into town," she said in a joking tone of voice -- but looked abashed when she saw the expression on Argus' face.
They walked in silence for a minute or two, then Miguel decided to broach what might be a delicate subject. "If you don't mind, maybe you could clear up a puzzle for us. When we got into town, we asked a bunch of different people for directions to the Hamael house, and they all acted as if they'd seen a ghost. We were worried that we'd asked directions to a den of werewolves or vampires or such. Yet here you and Father Rilus are, not fazed by the question in the least. Why the different reaction?"
"Well, mainly it's that the Hamaels aren't from around here," Hildegard answered. "Like many small towns, Heamish is full of people who don't take too well to strangers. The Hamaels haven't been here long enough to get accepted by the townsfolk, and so they're treated like they're alien beings."
"How long does that acceptance take?" Miguel asked.
"Oh, thirty years or so." Miguel winced at the very casual, off-hand answer as Hildegard continued, "But the Father and me not being from Heamish either, that don't bother us at all. There's also a little thing about religious practice. The temple is Orthodox, as you can see, and so are almost all of the Veracian Church members in town. The Hamaels, on the other hand, are Millenarians -- pretty strange denomination if you ask me, but all the branches of the Church are supposed to try to get along. Thing is, though, nobody ever told the townsfolk that, and they don't like having Millenarians among them. I feel sorry for what the Hamael kids will go through once they get to school age."
They were approaching the end of the lane now, and a very mundane house was awaiting them about half a block away. Rather than proceeding to the front door, however, Hildegard pulled Argus and Miguel up short. "Oh ... there's one other thing before we get there. I never paid much attention to it myself; the Hamaels come to temple regular as you please, they go to the smitings, Mrs. Hamael even sings in the choir, not real good but her heart's in the right place. She's pretty regular people there, even though some of the congregation don't treat her real well.
"But Mr. Hamael, now ... Like I said, I don't put much stock in it myself, but some folks in town say that up there at that mine where he works, he dabbles in the ... occult."
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Re: Saus
(OOC: EXHAUSTED. Work has been crazy, lately. Oh well...)
Miles away, a short stocky figure stopped and sniffed the air.
Mmmm.... lots of females ahead. That could be a good time... But, wait. Lots of males, too. Blast. When males were around, that lead to dominance rituals, combat... and it wasn't even season.
Well, screw it. Er, so to speak. There were places to go, and people (a person, rather) to see, and he couldn't just stand around nervously because he was afraid of a little, territorial SOB giving him guff!
There was a bit of motion in the bushes, The figure waddled over in curiosity. This was, of course, an incredibly stupid thing to do. When bushes move and shift, you RUN. What's in the bushes was usually not very nice. You almost never found a nubile, willing female beckoning to you with a smile.
Heh. There was a funny story. Good old Argus, that old boy had been around...
As it turned out, there was a swamp beaver in the bushes. A very large and angry swamp beaver (male, incidentally). They apparently grew huge in these parts. With very dangerous looking teeth...
Five seconds later a small figure was tearing across swampland for dry land. To hell with taking the swamp! Those things, you did NOT mess with; they WOULD mess you up!
Even if you WERE nearly indestructible.
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Great weave, the beavers grow huge in this area. Argus thought absently, noticing the size of a beaver pelt hanging on a door. The sight gave him a bit of a stir. Old memories... Argus pushed the thought away and rubbed his temple absently.
The house was... well, a house. Nothing more. But it had a bit of a forlorn look to it. Almost stubborn. Like it was standing there, defying anyone to tell it to move. A vegetable garden was in the back, and a flowerpot or two decorated the front of the house, but they seemed almost token attempts at making the place presentable. All in all, it suited the owners perfectly. Stubbornly remaining in a town that, quite frankly, didn't want them around.
Argus turned his attention back to Hildegard with interest. "The occult?"
"Aye," the housekeeper said grimly. "The occult. Forbidden arts, outlawed by Lord Luminosita, the practice of which can endanger one's soul." The woman looked very forboding for a moment. "'Course, it's just a rumour," she added finally. "I really wouldn't put too much stock in it if I were you."
The occult... interesting... an outlaw magician in Veracia? Or just someone that likes unusual books? Either way, the Father Egbert connection made this revelation most... fascinating.
Miles away, a short stocky figure stopped and sniffed the air.
Mmmm.... lots of females ahead. That could be a good time... But, wait. Lots of males, too. Blast. When males were around, that lead to dominance rituals, combat... and it wasn't even season.
Well, screw it. Er, so to speak. There were places to go, and people (a person, rather) to see, and he couldn't just stand around nervously because he was afraid of a little, territorial SOB giving him guff!
There was a bit of motion in the bushes, The figure waddled over in curiosity. This was, of course, an incredibly stupid thing to do. When bushes move and shift, you RUN. What's in the bushes was usually not very nice. You almost never found a nubile, willing female beckoning to you with a smile.
Heh. There was a funny story. Good old Argus, that old boy had been around...
As it turned out, there was a swamp beaver in the bushes. A very large and angry swamp beaver (male, incidentally). They apparently grew huge in these parts. With very dangerous looking teeth...
Five seconds later a small figure was tearing across swampland for dry land. To hell with taking the swamp! Those things, you did NOT mess with; they WOULD mess you up!
Even if you WERE nearly indestructible.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Great weave, the beavers grow huge in this area. Argus thought absently, noticing the size of a beaver pelt hanging on a door. The sight gave him a bit of a stir. Old memories... Argus pushed the thought away and rubbed his temple absently.
The house was... well, a house. Nothing more. But it had a bit of a forlorn look to it. Almost stubborn. Like it was standing there, defying anyone to tell it to move. A vegetable garden was in the back, and a flowerpot or two decorated the front of the house, but they seemed almost token attempts at making the place presentable. All in all, it suited the owners perfectly. Stubbornly remaining in a town that, quite frankly, didn't want them around.
Argus turned his attention back to Hildegard with interest. "The occult?"
"Aye," the housekeeper said grimly. "The occult. Forbidden arts, outlawed by Lord Luminosita, the practice of which can endanger one's soul." The woman looked very forboding for a moment. "'Course, it's just a rumour," she added finally. "I really wouldn't put too much stock in it if I were you."
The occult... interesting... an outlaw magician in Veracia? Or just someone that likes unusual books? Either way, the Father Egbert connection made this revelation most... fascinating.
- Graybeard
- The Heretical Admin
- Posts: 7185
- Joined: August 20th, 2007, 8:26 am
- Location: Nuevo Mexico y Colorado, Estados Unidos
Re: Saus
As the trio approached the house, the sound of a barking dog could be heard from inside. That's good, or at least I think it is, Brother Miguel thought. It's barking, not growling or snarling. The people inside probably aren't just pathologically hostile -- even though, from what we've been hearing, they could be excused if they were. I do wish I'd brought my formal robes, though; this looks like a place where they might be useful. He paused to refresh his Truth spell as Hildegard knocked on the door.
Moments later, a short, plump woman opened the door, a baby in her arms. Miguel didn't even have to ask whether this was Mildred Hamael, nee Kankaniel; the family resemblance to Father Egbert was obvious, almost overpowering. A large, friendly-looking dog was at her side. The two men remained discreetly in the background as Hildegard made introductions (with only minor inaccuracies...) and the woman invited them all into her tidy, functional living room.
"May Luminosita's Blessings be with you," Miguel said once they were settled. "We would appreciate your help in a matter pertaining to your brother. At least I understand that you are our friend Father Egbert's sister, is that correct?"
"Yes, he's my older brother," Mrs. Hamael said, "but I haven't seen him in years now. Isn't he off spreading Luminosita's Word among the infidels in Tsuiraku? Braver than I am, to associate with that bunch."
"Indeed, he was at the mission of Our Lord Luminosita in the Tsuirakuan city of Kiyoka," Miguel said. "However, he's now on a ... pilgrimage ... in this country, and that is why we're calling on you. A matter has come up --"
A snort from Mrs. Hamael cut him off. "Hmph. In this country, and he didn't even tell us he was coming, let alone stop by and visit. You'd think he'd tell his only living kinfolk about something like that, wouldn't you? I'm sorry, I interrupted, please go on."
There's almost no need to, Miguel thought. This woman obviously hadn't seen hide nor hair of her brother recently. There was no trace of deception in what she was saying; in fact he seriously doubted whether she was even capable of it. Still, they might as well try to get some information while they were here. "Well, that's exactly our situation as well. There is a problem involving the Kiyokan mission, and we need to get in touch with him urgently so that he can help resolve it." No point in telling these women that he is the problem, now... "We were hoping that --"
He broke off, noting that the dog was staring intently at the front door.
Moments later, a short, plump woman opened the door, a baby in her arms. Miguel didn't even have to ask whether this was Mildred Hamael, nee Kankaniel; the family resemblance to Father Egbert was obvious, almost overpowering. A large, friendly-looking dog was at her side. The two men remained discreetly in the background as Hildegard made introductions (with only minor inaccuracies...) and the woman invited them all into her tidy, functional living room.
"May Luminosita's Blessings be with you," Miguel said once they were settled. "We would appreciate your help in a matter pertaining to your brother. At least I understand that you are our friend Father Egbert's sister, is that correct?"
"Yes, he's my older brother," Mrs. Hamael said, "but I haven't seen him in years now. Isn't he off spreading Luminosita's Word among the infidels in Tsuiraku? Braver than I am, to associate with that bunch."
"Indeed, he was at the mission of Our Lord Luminosita in the Tsuirakuan city of Kiyoka," Miguel said. "However, he's now on a ... pilgrimage ... in this country, and that is why we're calling on you. A matter has come up --"
A snort from Mrs. Hamael cut him off. "Hmph. In this country, and he didn't even tell us he was coming, let alone stop by and visit. You'd think he'd tell his only living kinfolk about something like that, wouldn't you? I'm sorry, I interrupted, please go on."
There's almost no need to, Miguel thought. This woman obviously hadn't seen hide nor hair of her brother recently. There was no trace of deception in what she was saying; in fact he seriously doubted whether she was even capable of it. Still, they might as well try to get some information while they were here. "Well, that's exactly our situation as well. There is a problem involving the Kiyokan mission, and we need to get in touch with him urgently so that he can help resolve it." No point in telling these women that he is the problem, now... "We were hoping that --"
He broke off, noting that the dog was staring intently at the front door.
Because old is wise, does good, and above all, kicks ass.
- Drannin
- Prince of Space
- Posts: 1350
- Joined: August 15th, 2008, 2:46 pm
Re: Saus
The dog growled, a low, unpleasant sound. Mildred was immediately concerned. "What's wrong? Jake?" The dog'd only response was to look at her piteously, whining slightly. "Now what could have you so upset...?"
Mildred Hamael got up from her chair and walked over to the door concerned. She opened the door. Stared. Got very, very, pale. Slammed the door with her back to it. "B...b...b..." she stammered.
Argus and Miguel stared at each other in concern. What could have spooked the woman? Argus got to his feet and walked over. "May I?" after a moment's hesitation, Mildred moved away from the door, with notable reluctance. Argus opened the door and peeked out to see...
A beaver.
A huge, six-foot long beaver.
Literally eating the front fence.
The beaver paused in its meal to look up at him, and bared its... well, teeth, yes. But buck teeth had never looked so threatening in all of his life. It was probably the blood that made the thing look threatening. That and the rows of fangs on either side.
Argus Cleiviein was staring at a rare bull Carnivorous Swamp Beaver, true rarity in this part of the world. He was somewhat less than overjoyed. Still, it could have been worse. At least he didn't know this one.
Quietly, Argus closed the door and turned to the others. "It's a giant beaver," he said simply. The response from the room was dumbfounded silence. After all, how did you convey the terms "dangerous" and "beaver" in the same sentence? It just didn't fit.
Still, the sound of the carnivorous swamp beaver chewing through the front door nonetheless sounded rather... threatening.
Mildred Hamael got up from her chair and walked over to the door concerned. She opened the door. Stared. Got very, very, pale. Slammed the door with her back to it. "B...b...b..." she stammered.
Argus and Miguel stared at each other in concern. What could have spooked the woman? Argus got to his feet and walked over. "May I?" after a moment's hesitation, Mildred moved away from the door, with notable reluctance. Argus opened the door and peeked out to see...
A beaver.
A huge, six-foot long beaver.
Literally eating the front fence.
The beaver paused in its meal to look up at him, and bared its... well, teeth, yes. But buck teeth had never looked so threatening in all of his life. It was probably the blood that made the thing look threatening. That and the rows of fangs on either side.
Argus Cleiviein was staring at a rare bull Carnivorous Swamp Beaver, true rarity in this part of the world. He was somewhat less than overjoyed. Still, it could have been worse. At least he didn't know this one.
Quietly, Argus closed the door and turned to the others. "It's a giant beaver," he said simply. The response from the room was dumbfounded silence. After all, how did you convey the terms "dangerous" and "beaver" in the same sentence? It just didn't fit.
Still, the sound of the carnivorous swamp beaver chewing through the front door nonetheless sounded rather... threatening.