Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee

For in-universe game play. Journey through both familiar and foreign settings, explore lost ruins and forgotten cities, and try to bring light to the darkness of the world... or, you know, blow stuff up. Either way.
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Drusia
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee

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"Why would anyone transliterate a Veracian book into elvish letters -- I think that's the right word? The elvish language isn't supposed to be anything like Veracian -- hmm. Got an idea, give me a minute."

I open my mouth, then close it again. If she'd just given me a moment, I'd have told her that the book wasn't transliterated into elven letters, but rather written by someone who knew verbal Veracian but not written Veracian.

"Basic arithmetic," she said. "Looks like the people who live here might be schoolteachers. So maybe that book is a primer on the elvish language or something. But --"

Or history, which I believe is the topic of the strange book. However, we are once again interrupted by the owners of the house returning home. A girl with some sort of undefined magical talents, apparently - the one we met earlier, I recognize her when she enters. She doesn't seem very concerned about finding us here.

"Hi," Joanny said. as though finding two strange women in her grandparents' house, holding a book from their library, was the most natural thing in the world.

"Hello," I reply, giving her my most friendly smile. "We were, um... well, hiding in here, actually. I think I made someone angry, so we ran, and ended up hiding in the library here." I nod at the room with the books. "I saw this book. It looked odd, so I was curious about who wrote it, and why. Can you help me with that?"

There. Hopefully Joanny will vouche for us with the adults who live here - some sort of family members I gather - and she might even settle this point of disagreement between Therese and I. And I'm fairly certain that running from someone angry is a universal technique for small children. I just hope she doesn't suggest we find them and apologize. That would be awkward.

-- Desiree
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee

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The girl took all this in with a curiously open-eyed, fascinated expression on her face, right up to the last part. "I saw this book. It looked odd, so I was curious about who wrote it, and why. Can you help me with that?" She frowned, not with hostility, but as though doing a calculation, and then answered. "I dunno about books, ma'ams, but I bet Gramma and Grampa do." She turned back toward the front of the house and yelled, "GRAM! GRAN! They's ladies on the run from the elf-bashers! Wanna talk to 'em?"
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee

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"I dunno about books, ma'ams, but I bet Gramma and Grampa do." She turned back toward the front of the house and yelled, "GRAM! GRAN! They's ladies on the run from the elf-bashers! Wanna talk to 'em?"

Well that's one way to do it. And speaking of the direct approach, I ask "Elf-bashers? Is that who they are? Um... what exactly is an 'elf-basher'? Someone who bashes elves?" I didn't think Santuriel had any sort of professional anti-elf warriors, but maybe I was misinformed?

-- Desiree
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee

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"Elf-bashers? Is that who they are? Um... what exactly is an 'elf-basher'? Someone who bashes elves?"

"A gang of thugs," a deep, authoritative voice sounded from toward the door, and a distinguished-looking half-elf man rounded the corner. "They call themselves something like 'Santuarielites United against Elven Tyranny,' and they have a vow to kill any elf they find here. Of course, there are no such elves, so they content themselves with stirring up trouble. You would not be the first women they have disturbed in the name of fighting the elves." He paused and looked Desiree and Therese over, then added, "But exactly who are you, please, and what brings you to this fair city?"

[OOC: Would Desiree ever have mentioned to Therese her mother's role as one of the protectors of Santuariel? She knows that Dru has been there, and presumably could figure out the details, but it is unclear whether the conversation ever got to that level of detail explicitly. I'll write more when this is clarified, but I'm not sure how Therese would react to all this until that question is resolved.]
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Drusia
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee

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Graybeard wrote:[OOC: Would Desiree ever have mentioned to Therese her mother's role as one of the protectors of Santuariel? She knows that Dru has been there, and presumably could figure out the details, but it is unclear whether the conversation ever got to that level of detail explicitly. I'll write more when this is clarified, but I'm not sure how Therese would react to all this until that question is resolved.]
Oh sorry - been busy with unpacking and house guests.

Anyway... hmm, good question. I mean, Desiree WOULD have told her, but they've been so busy since they arrived, I'm not sure she's had time. Too many distractions.

Come to think of it, Desiree must be pulling some fairly serious sleep debt by this point (I can relate) so is probably not at her sharpest. Hm.
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee

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[OOC: OK, I can work with that, and Therese wouldn't be at her sharpest either, so this is all consistent ... and possibly getting tense ...]

Therese was too busy emitting a dry chuckle to notice the obvious question that the distinguished-looking Santuarielite was asking. "Elf-bashers," she muttered. "Wanting to fight elves." The chuckle became a snort. "Drusia would make mincemeat out of those goons, one at a --" She broke off, and most uncharacteristically, flushed violently, aware that she might have just committed a serious faux pas.

As indeed she had. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees in an instant as the older half elf frowned. "And just how did you come to know the name of one of the protectors of this city?" he said quietly; he seemed calm enough, but no great magical sensitivity was required to notice that magic was being gathered in the house.
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee

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"A gang of thugs," a deep, authoritative voice sounded from toward the door, and a distinguished-looking half-elf man rounded the corner. "They call themselves something like 'Santuarielites United against Elven Tyranny,' and they have a vow to kill any elf they find here. Of course, there are no such elves, so they content themselves with stirring up trouble. You would not be the first women they have disturbed in the name of fighting the elves." He paused and looked Desiree and Therese over, then added, "But exactly who are you, please, and what brings you to this fair city?"

Therese was too busy emitting a dry chuckle to notice the obvious question that the distinguished-looking Santuarielite was asking. "Elf-bashers," she muttered. "Wanting to fight elves." The chuckle became a snort. "Drusia would make mincemeat out of those goons, one at a --" She broke off, and most uncharacteristically, flushed violently, aware that she might have just committed a serious faux pas.

As indeed she had. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees in an instant as the older half elf frowned. "And just how did you come to know the name of one of the protectors of this city?" he said quietly; he seemed calm enough, but no great magical sensitivity was required to notice that magic was being gathered in the house.


Ooookay. This is going badly. I need head this off before it gets any worse.

"Drusia is my mother," I reply. In the shocked pause that leaves, I add "And I'm in Santuariel looking for the Banshee."

I nearly add that I'm here to save her, but perhaps I should let them absorb that first. At least that last part makes it clear that I'm here to help.

I hope.

-- Desiree
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee

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The older man frowned, although at the same time, the magical tension in the room dissipated somewhat. "Do not use the names of our protectors," he said stiffly. "That is for their protection as well as for ours. That band of thugs -- they may seem inept, but you know as well as I do that our kind can harbor unknown, and unwanted, destructive powers."

"Lennart, dear, these are guests, if unusual ones," a female voice said, and a well-dressed woman popped her head around the corner and joined the discussion. "Be cordial with them. The deputy mayor should do no less."

"Yes, dear," the man subsided meekly, as Therese raised an eyebrow of her own. "Deputy mayor? I'm sorry to interrupt you, we had no idea --"

"Quite all right," the woman said smoothly. "We entertain visitors all the time. Will you join us in some tea, so that we can discuss the banshee and what you propose to do about it?"

Now we're getting somewhere, Therese thought, as the group moved into a comfortable (if still cigar-infested) sitting room.

[OOC: Belated retcon to bring names into harmony; annoyed I hadn't noticed this before.]
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee

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"Yes, dear," the man subsided meekly, as Therese raised an eyebrow of her own. "Deputy mayor? I'm sorry to interrupt you, we had no idea --"

"Quite all right," the woman said smoothly. "We entertain visitors all the time. Will you join us in some tea, so that we can discuss the banshee and what you propose to do about it?"


I decide to let the comment about not being allowed to say my own mother's name slide. I wouldn't have mentioned her if not for Therese's faux pass, so the point stands, even if I'm not entirely pleased about being the stalking horse for it. No matter.

The smoky sitting room isn't particularly pleasant smelling, but at least we're making progress. I graciously accept some tea, thanking our unexpected hosts, and take a sip of the scalding liquid while I compose my thoughts.

"First off, I would like to share with you what I've already learned about the so-called Banshee," I begin. I tell them all about my experience in the dark place. About Compassion screaming in pain, and about her strange connection to the dark entity. And about my various attempts to help Compassion.

Come to think of it, this might be the first coherent version of this Therese has gotten as well. I was rather garbled earlier - perhaps a clearer telling will shed some light on things.

I don't go into detail about my theories concerning Compassion's origin. First off, I'm not entirely certain that matters right now. Secondly, I don't want to go around claiming that I can get the elves to leave us alone forever until I'm sure I can get Compassion out of that weird place and haul her back to mother. And thirdly, it makes for an interesting test of their knowledge about elven religion.

I finish by describing our discussion concerning this so-called Prophesy earlier, and the various conflicting reports on that we've had the past several hours.

It has been a very long couple of days. I stifle a yawn and drink some more tea.

-- Desiree

OOC: I left some of that vague so they can interject if they need to or ask for clarification or whatever.
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee

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The couple, who had introduced themselves as Lennart and Eleanor Yoriel -- it was left unclear which of the pair was the deputy mayor -- listened gravely to Desiree's explanation, occasionally interrupting with a question [OOC: I see no reason to play those out -- just going for more details on the when and where, etc.], as Therese, who indeed had not heard all of it before, also sat transfixed. How does all this relate to the Five Great Mothers? she wondered. Am I as sure that the Mothers are identical with the Paedagogusi as I'd been coming to believe? She found her own mood becoming grave and serious to match the expressions of their hosts.

"Well, now, that's interesting," Eleanor Yoriel finally allowed. She poured more tea. "I can explain a few things. There are several different churches in Santuariel --" her husband flashed her an odd look at this statement, but it passed quickly -- "and old Maxwel, who is one of the few people left here who remembers the earlier Santuariel, is one of the last surviving members of what one might term a 'messianic' sect, one that believes that divine providence will send rescuers in our time of greatest need." She chuckled humorlessly and bitterly. "As if the destruction of Santuariel IV wasn't such a time, and the rescuers were not much in evidence. Even the elves who had been protecting us -- including your mother, Desiree -- gave us no succor at that time."

"Is Dr. Tenniel a member of that sect also?" Therese guessed.

"He was," Lennart confirmed, "at least until he lost all hope." He shook his head sadly. "Now he just sits in the tavern and reminisces about the old days. Maybe Renee thought you could pique his interest, get him back some of his lost faith." He shook his head again. "I'm sorry it didn't work that way."

Therese was beginning to get the picture. "But Dr. Tenniel's grandson and the other thugs, as you put it, aren't above exploiting those beliefs to stir up trouble and justify a little violence." She shuddered. "Which could have included us." Lennart said nothing, but nodded sadly again. "Which was why Brad and Lillith tried to warn us against going there: they are more sensitive to the thoughts of the younger generation, and they knew trouble was coming." Another nod.

Eleanor took over, and she looked even more unhappy now. "Speaking of those churches," she said, "there's something you should know, although you are probably not going to want to hear it ..." Her husband looked downright alarmed now, but she plowed ahead.

"The leaders of several of the churches have agreed that tonight, they are going to get together and try to perform an exorcism, to send the banshee back to wherever it came from."
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