Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee
- Graybeard
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Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee
[OOC: OK, new thread as discussed, picking up shortly after the last one. Incidentally, Errant Story itself never addressed the religious practices of the half elves of Santuariel. Any thoughts? The following stage-setting scene is a way of teeing that up, but I honestly have no idea how to play it out, so let's invent something!]
The path from Lillith's shrine back into town wasn't hard to follow, despite there being few footprints on it other than Lillith's. There was, Therese noted, evidence that a few visitors had ascended the trail on crutches, presumably seeking healing -- not that it would do most of them much good, given what she knew about the magic resistance of half elves. Idly, she wondered whether Lillith's return to Santuariel after her adventures in the wide, and half-elf-hostile, world had enhanced her reputation in town. Reasonably, it should; to all appearances, Lillith had done some commendable things, and some commendable personal growing-up, in the last few months.
"Hmm, looks like something's up," she said to Desiree as they entered town. "A little surprising. From the way Lillith was talking, it sounded like they rolled up the streets here at sundown, and we're only an hour or so away." She was right, though; there was a small crowd gathered in the central square, listening to some decidedly unusual-sounding music. At least it was tasteful, Therese thought, in -- contrast to the cacophony at the bar in Salvus. (Nice to know Mesuinu Enterprises hasn't discovered Santuariel, she thought.) As they listened, some vaguely religious lyrics were recognizable, although she didn't have any idea to what deity or deities they were intended. There were also a pair of what might be priests, a man and a woman, on the podium with the band, keeping time to the music. Some of the crowd were clapping along, also keeping time, but most just seemed to be having a picnic lunch (dinner?) or otherwise enjoying themselves.
"Want to listen a while, or shall we descend on Brad the chef?" she asked, with a rolling of her eyes at the thought of what kind of "dinner" might be facing them.
[OOC: So want to get inventive about what's going on here? Feel free...]
The path from Lillith's shrine back into town wasn't hard to follow, despite there being few footprints on it other than Lillith's. There was, Therese noted, evidence that a few visitors had ascended the trail on crutches, presumably seeking healing -- not that it would do most of them much good, given what she knew about the magic resistance of half elves. Idly, she wondered whether Lillith's return to Santuariel after her adventures in the wide, and half-elf-hostile, world had enhanced her reputation in town. Reasonably, it should; to all appearances, Lillith had done some commendable things, and some commendable personal growing-up, in the last few months.
"Hmm, looks like something's up," she said to Desiree as they entered town. "A little surprising. From the way Lillith was talking, it sounded like they rolled up the streets here at sundown, and we're only an hour or so away." She was right, though; there was a small crowd gathered in the central square, listening to some decidedly unusual-sounding music. At least it was tasteful, Therese thought, in -- contrast to the cacophony at the bar in Salvus. (Nice to know Mesuinu Enterprises hasn't discovered Santuariel, she thought.) As they listened, some vaguely religious lyrics were recognizable, although she didn't have any idea to what deity or deities they were intended. There were also a pair of what might be priests, a man and a woman, on the podium with the band, keeping time to the music. Some of the crowd were clapping along, also keeping time, but most just seemed to be having a picnic lunch (dinner?) or otherwise enjoying themselves.
"Want to listen a while, or shall we descend on Brad the chef?" she asked, with a rolling of her eyes at the thought of what kind of "dinner" might be facing them.
[OOC: So want to get inventive about what's going on here? Feel free...]
Because old is wise, does good, and above all, kicks ass.
- Drusia
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee
OOC: Sorry, been swamped this week. I will get a reply up soonish - promise! ^^;;
- Graybeard
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee
[OOC: No problem. Here's a little more to play off of when you're out from under the pile:]
The music stopped as Desiree and Therese headed for the square, and the male priest raised his hand for people's attention. At first Therese wondered whether this was a response to the two out-of-towners approaching, but none of the townsfolk even seemed to notice that they were there. Instead, the band was putting away their instruments and the crowd was beginning to disperse. (Maybe they do roll up the streets at dark after all, Therese thought.) Several remained behind, however, their heads bowed in what appeared to be prayer.
"... And deliver us from the terror that wails in the night," the priest was concluding as Therese and Desiree approached. Some of the townsfolk were taking this exhortation to the gods(?) more seriously than others; a hard-looking man with an eyepatch was nodding grimly to what might have been his wife, who had a frightened look on her face, while a pair of young men (Therese knew that they'd probably be at least in their late twenties, half-elf aging being what it was, but they looked younger) were walking away, rolling their eyes and smirking.
Therese cocked an eyebrow at Desiree. "See anybody here you want to talk to? Or shall we go for dinner first? Brad's expecting us." She rolled her own eyes again, but then they refocused on the members of the crowd.
The music stopped as Desiree and Therese headed for the square, and the male priest raised his hand for people's attention. At first Therese wondered whether this was a response to the two out-of-towners approaching, but none of the townsfolk even seemed to notice that they were there. Instead, the band was putting away their instruments and the crowd was beginning to disperse. (Maybe they do roll up the streets at dark after all, Therese thought.) Several remained behind, however, their heads bowed in what appeared to be prayer.
"... And deliver us from the terror that wails in the night," the priest was concluding as Therese and Desiree approached. Some of the townsfolk were taking this exhortation to the gods(?) more seriously than others; a hard-looking man with an eyepatch was nodding grimly to what might have been his wife, who had a frightened look on her face, while a pair of young men (Therese knew that they'd probably be at least in their late twenties, half-elf aging being what it was, but they looked younger) were walking away, rolling their eyes and smirking.
Therese cocked an eyebrow at Desiree. "See anybody here you want to talk to? Or shall we go for dinner first? Brad's expecting us." She rolled her own eyes again, but then they refocused on the members of the crowd.
Because old is wise, does good, and above all, kicks ass.
- Drusia
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee
Therese cocked an eyebrow at Desiree. "See anybody here you want to talk to? Or shall we go for dinner first? Brad's expecting us." She rolled her own eyes again, but then they refocused on the members of the crowd.
On another day, I might want to learn more about the religion of Santuriel. Mother never said much about it, and I gather that Lillith has different beliefs than are standard.
However, my mind is on Lillith communing over the cage. What does the black mark mean? Did Compassion create that mark while escaping the cave, or was she attacked. Is it possible to kill a goddess - or a demigoddess, or a servant of the gods or whatever she is? If she really was one. If she was destroyed, will we ever know for sure, or will this end up turning into a wild chase with no end?
"... let's just get back to Brad," I say after a moment. "I want to make sure we're there when Lillith gets in." Hopefully she can narrow things down a bit.
-- Desiree
On another day, I might want to learn more about the religion of Santuriel. Mother never said much about it, and I gather that Lillith has different beliefs than are standard.
However, my mind is on Lillith communing over the cage. What does the black mark mean? Did Compassion create that mark while escaping the cave, or was she attacked. Is it possible to kill a goddess - or a demigoddess, or a servant of the gods or whatever she is? If she really was one. If she was destroyed, will we ever know for sure, or will this end up turning into a wild chase with no end?
"... let's just get back to Brad," I say after a moment. "I want to make sure we're there when Lillith gets in." Hopefully she can narrow things down a bit.
-- Desiree
- Graybeard
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee
Therese nodded. "Okay." They set off, following instructions Lillith had given them.
Walking in silence did allow some listening to the conversations of the Santuarielians who were dispersing from the square. The general impression was that the populace was nervous about the "banshee," without knowing what it was, or anyone being known to have been directly harmed by it. "It's the elves, I tell you," one old man croaked to his wife. "We're all doomed, I just know it." His wife rolled her eyes, and produced a "yes, dear" that sounded like she'd been saying similar things for about fifty years; but she did sneak a glance over her shoulder toward the foothills where Therese and Desiree had found the cage.
A ... peculiar aroma was coming from the house where Brad was presumably whipping up dinner. "Still sure you want to do this?" Therese asked Desiree, amused, although whatever it was that Brad was cooking, she was pretty sure she'd eaten worse all the time in Goriel.
Walking in silence did allow some listening to the conversations of the Santuarielians who were dispersing from the square. The general impression was that the populace was nervous about the "banshee," without knowing what it was, or anyone being known to have been directly harmed by it. "It's the elves, I tell you," one old man croaked to his wife. "We're all doomed, I just know it." His wife rolled her eyes, and produced a "yes, dear" that sounded like she'd been saying similar things for about fifty years; but she did sneak a glance over her shoulder toward the foothills where Therese and Desiree had found the cage.
A ... peculiar aroma was coming from the house where Brad was presumably whipping up dinner. "Still sure you want to do this?" Therese asked Desiree, amused, although whatever it was that Brad was cooking, she was pretty sure she'd eaten worse all the time in Goriel.
Because old is wise, does good, and above all, kicks ass.
- Drusia
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee
"Still sure you want to do this?" Therese asked Desiree, amused, although whatever it was that Brad was cooking, she was pretty sure she'd eaten worse all the time in Goriel.
"Of course," I say, smiling. "I would hardly be polite to run away now." I consider for a moment, then take Therese's hand and walk up to the door. I knock - invited or not, I don't just want to barge in.
-- Desiree
"Of course," I say, smiling. "I would hardly be polite to run away now." I consider for a moment, then take Therese's hand and walk up to the door. I knock - invited or not, I don't just want to barge in.
-- Desiree
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee
"Just a minute," Brad's voice called from inside the house, followed by a tremendous clatter of pots and pans hitting the floor, or a table, or something, followed by a quiet "Oops."
Therese was trying unsuccessfully to stifle a guffaw, but she got serious quickly as a small half-elven child, maybe twelve years old or so (and therefore looking more like 8 or 9), approached her and Desiree, even as one last pot, or something, landed with a crash. "Uh, ma'ams?" the girl asked. "Is the holy roller gonna try to get rid of the banshee?" The child shuddered. "I hope so. It's scary."
Therese was trying unsuccessfully to stifle a guffaw, but she got serious quickly as a small half-elven child, maybe twelve years old or so (and therefore looking more like 8 or 9), approached her and Desiree, even as one last pot, or something, landed with a crash. "Uh, ma'ams?" the girl asked. "Is the holy roller gonna try to get rid of the banshee?" The child shuddered. "I hope so. It's scary."
Because old is wise, does good, and above all, kicks ass.
- Drusia
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee
"Oops."
I smile wryly as Therese struggles not to laugh. I didn't think it was all that funny - particularly since our meal is likely going to suffer for that oops - but I truly enjoy her amusement. I'm used to taking pleasure at the pleasure of others, but not usually in this particular fashion. It's... novel. And pleasant.
a small half-elven child, maybe twelve years old or so (and therefore looking more like 8 or 9), approached her and Desiree, even as one last pot, or something, landed with a crash. "Uh, ma'ams?" the girl asked. "Is the holy roller gonna try to get rid of the banshee?" The child shuddered. "I hope so. It's scary."
"Holy roller?" I ask. I mean, she's probably talking about Brad, but I am truly curious as to how he managed to get such a strange nickname.
"Anyway," I say after her explanation, "We're all going to help take care of the banshee. So don't worry - you have several skilled professionals on the job." No need to specify professionals at what, exactly. Nor, for that matter, what we intend to do with the Banshee.
-- Desiree
OOC: Feel free to insert the holy roller response between the two paragraphs. I don't think Desiree is going to want to pursue that particularly line of questioning once she has sated her curosity.
I smile wryly as Therese struggles not to laugh. I didn't think it was all that funny - particularly since our meal is likely going to suffer for that oops - but I truly enjoy her amusement. I'm used to taking pleasure at the pleasure of others, but not usually in this particular fashion. It's... novel. And pleasant.
a small half-elven child, maybe twelve years old or so (and therefore looking more like 8 or 9), approached her and Desiree, even as one last pot, or something, landed with a crash. "Uh, ma'ams?" the girl asked. "Is the holy roller gonna try to get rid of the banshee?" The child shuddered. "I hope so. It's scary."
"Holy roller?" I ask. I mean, she's probably talking about Brad, but I am truly curious as to how he managed to get such a strange nickname.
"Anyway," I say after her explanation, "We're all going to help take care of the banshee. So don't worry - you have several skilled professionals on the job." No need to specify professionals at what, exactly. Nor, for that matter, what we intend to do with the Banshee.
-- Desiree
OOC: Feel free to insert the holy roller response between the two paragraphs. I don't think Desiree is going to want to pursue that particularly line of questioning once she has sated her curosity.
- Graybeard
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee
[OOC: Warning, big-time Tom Swiftie coming...]
"That's just what everybody calls 'im," the girl said. "I don't know why." She grinned. "I think he's funny." Her curiosity sated, and her mood apparently elevated by thinking about the "holy roller," she skipped away just as the selfsame Brad came to the door.
He had a large cookpot in one hand, but it was empty. He was, however, carrying its contents, mainly on his face although some had managed to be caught on his apron. From the looks of it, it had been a lamb stew.
"Oh, hi," he said as he opened the door and wiped some lamb off his face. "Sorry, but I think we're all going to have to be vegetarian tonight," he continued...
"That's just what everybody calls 'im," the girl said. "I don't know why." She grinned. "I think he's funny." Her curiosity sated, and her mood apparently elevated by thinking about the "holy roller," she skipped away just as the selfsame Brad came to the door.
He had a large cookpot in one hand, but it was empty. He was, however, carrying its contents, mainly on his face although some had managed to be caught on his apron. From the looks of it, it had been a lamb stew.
"Oh, hi," he said as he opened the door and wiped some lamb off his face. "Sorry, but I think we're all going to have to be vegetarian tonight," he continued...
Spoiler: show
Because old is wise, does good, and above all, kicks ass.
- Drusia
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Re: Santuariel, Compassion, and the banshee
He was, however, carrying its contents, mainly on his face although some had managed to be caught on his apron. From the looks of it, it had been a lamb stew.
"Oh, hi," he said as he opened the door and wiped some lamb off his face. "Sorry, but I think we're all going to have to be vegetarian tonight," he continued... sheepishly.
Without speaking I reach out and pluck one of the cubes of lamb off of Brad's face. I crush it gently with my fingers, testing to make sure it's fully cooked before popping it in my mouth. Hm - not bad.
"That's a shame," I say, absently plucking another piece to offer to Therese.
-- Desiree
"Oh, hi," he said as he opened the door and wiped some lamb off his face. "Sorry, but I think we're all going to have to be vegetarian tonight," he continued... sheepishly.
Without speaking I reach out and pluck one of the cubes of lamb off of Brad's face. I crush it gently with my fingers, testing to make sure it's fully cooked before popping it in my mouth. Hm - not bad.
"That's a shame," I say, absently plucking another piece to offer to Therese.
-- Desiree