"Please, do come in," Father Arnold (where did he get that accent? Sister Rose wondered) told the three travelers remaining in the wagon, holding the temple door. He motioned them around the meeting hall (which still had a ... characteristic aroma to it) to his private chambers, which were surprisingly conventional in layout and content.
Pleasantries were exchanged, and Rose got down to business. "Your hospitality is wonderful," she said, "but unfortunately, we need to get to work. As you know, we're here on a mission for the Patriarch." She wasn't sure how that would go over -- Arnold hadn't had much use for Patriarch Jeramel's predecessor -- but he nodded agreeably as she continued. "Would it be possible for us to speak to the young priest who -- encountered the man we're looking for?"
Arnold looked puzzled. "He's the one I sent out to guide you into town," he said. "Didn't he give you the information you needed?"
I was afraid of that. "He ... didn't seem in a state to be an articulate witness."
The priest nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid young Brother Tyler sometimes enjoys our temple's religious rites just a shade too much." He smiled. "He's a fine young man, though, and he'll reach a balance between rituals and good works soon enough. Let me fetch him." He rose from his seat and headed for the cloisters.
Rose and Argus swapped glances, then Rose spoke. "I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this..."
-------------
"Brownie, sweetheart?" Brad said, munching one of his own; it had a delightful, mellow taste that he didn't recognize. Surely Lillith, with her, like, calm and tasteful ways would like it too. Wouldn't she? Totally, man.
Getsemiel
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Graybeard
- The Heretical Admin
- Posts: 7182
- Joined: August 20th, 2007, 8:26 am
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Re: Getsemiel
Because old is wise, does good, and above all, kicks ass.
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Porcelain Fish
- Mage/Priest War Veteran
- Posts: 449
- Joined: July 26th, 2009, 10:44 am
Re: Getsemiel
The scary woman, now bereft of her lizard companion, wasn't feeling quite as confident about her chances, especially now, staring up at the massive, foreign vessel, dwarfed by its bulk. Yet despite its size it had the sleek, look of a predator about it as it rested on its four fins, trim and smooth, the hull of a dark gray material, and for the life of her she couldn't tell if it was steel or slate.
There was no bag overhead, no gas envelope, no signs that one had ever even been attached. How did the great beast fly?
She wandered aft, looking for any means of ascending to the deck high above, and found only a set of four regularly spaced openings, the outer two higher than those in the middle. Something about the faint gleam of the metallic surfaces she could glimpse inside told her they weren't doors.
She was certain it was of foreign origin. Nothing she'd ever seen in Veracia matched it. The scary woman was no longer feeling quite as scary. In fact she was feeling rather more along the lines of scared herself. What else waited onboard this mysterious craft? What sorcery was the Tsuirakuan devil preparing to unleash?
"Well hey now, here's a chipmunk. Sniffing for some acorns?"
In spite of herself, the scary woman jumped, and whirled. She found herself facing a young man, his eyes faintly slanted and a deep, rich blue, his brown hair short. He grinned and flicked her two front teeth.
Something struck her across the back of the head, and everything went black. If she'd still been awake to hear it, the conversation that followed would have gone something like this.
"Should we tie her to one of the trees and tap the burners when we cut out?"
"Pops'll see her, and then he'll ask awkward questions, like why we didn't have the camouflage screen up already, or why she's not dead. Take her into town, dump her in an alley somewhere, and leave some of her money on her. One of the locals will do us the favor I'm sure. Just keep clear of the target."
"Royce?"
"Yeah Harlan?"
"Have you ever seen him like this?"
"Not since . . . that Wraith who stole Mom's necklace. You were too young to remember, but I'm pretty sure that chump was grateful when he finally got to die."
..............................................................
Bryce and Tim were just cresting the hill when a faint breeze swept over it. Bryce looked down the other side, and frowned at the unbroken treetops of the wood nestled below. Something about it gave him a bad feeling. He'd learned to trust his instincts over the years, and they'd seldom, if ever, led him astray.
Well, there had been that colonel's son that cost him his officer's commission, but that had been a different kind of instinct altogether. His thoughts, naturally enough, went next to Maduin. Those hazel eyes and the memory of his smell and his skin tugged at Bryce's gut. It was enough to convince him of where he needed to be.
"We're heading back," he said flatly. "Keep a sharp eye out, Brother. Something is seriously wrong here."
He didn't see Royce waiting at the bottom of the slope behind the camouflage screen, a long-barreled rifle in the crook of one elbow, blue eyes watching them from underneath the wide brim of his hat as he waited. Harlan waited until they turned away, then knelt down and tossed the unconscious woman over a broad shoulder like a sack of meal, breaking into an easy trot around the base of the hill, taking a less direct route towards Getsemiel.
There was no bag overhead, no gas envelope, no signs that one had ever even been attached. How did the great beast fly?
She wandered aft, looking for any means of ascending to the deck high above, and found only a set of four regularly spaced openings, the outer two higher than those in the middle. Something about the faint gleam of the metallic surfaces she could glimpse inside told her they weren't doors.
She was certain it was of foreign origin. Nothing she'd ever seen in Veracia matched it. The scary woman was no longer feeling quite as scary. In fact she was feeling rather more along the lines of scared herself. What else waited onboard this mysterious craft? What sorcery was the Tsuirakuan devil preparing to unleash?
"Well hey now, here's a chipmunk. Sniffing for some acorns?"
In spite of herself, the scary woman jumped, and whirled. She found herself facing a young man, his eyes faintly slanted and a deep, rich blue, his brown hair short. He grinned and flicked her two front teeth.
Something struck her across the back of the head, and everything went black. If she'd still been awake to hear it, the conversation that followed would have gone something like this.
"Should we tie her to one of the trees and tap the burners when we cut out?"
"Pops'll see her, and then he'll ask awkward questions, like why we didn't have the camouflage screen up already, or why she's not dead. Take her into town, dump her in an alley somewhere, and leave some of her money on her. One of the locals will do us the favor I'm sure. Just keep clear of the target."
"Royce?"
"Yeah Harlan?"
"Have you ever seen him like this?"
"Not since . . . that Wraith who stole Mom's necklace. You were too young to remember, but I'm pretty sure that chump was grateful when he finally got to die."
..............................................................
Bryce and Tim were just cresting the hill when a faint breeze swept over it. Bryce looked down the other side, and frowned at the unbroken treetops of the wood nestled below. Something about it gave him a bad feeling. He'd learned to trust his instincts over the years, and they'd seldom, if ever, led him astray.
Well, there had been that colonel's son that cost him his officer's commission, but that had been a different kind of instinct altogether. His thoughts, naturally enough, went next to Maduin. Those hazel eyes and the memory of his smell and his skin tugged at Bryce's gut. It was enough to convince him of where he needed to be.
"We're heading back," he said flatly. "Keep a sharp eye out, Brother. Something is seriously wrong here."
He didn't see Royce waiting at the bottom of the slope behind the camouflage screen, a long-barreled rifle in the crook of one elbow, blue eyes watching them from underneath the wide brim of his hat as he waited. Harlan waited until they turned away, then knelt down and tossed the unconscious woman over a broad shoulder like a sack of meal, breaking into an easy trot around the base of the hill, taking a less direct route towards Getsemiel.
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Alberich
- Noble Knight Protector
- Posts: 1892
- Joined: October 5th, 2008, 9:58 am
Re: Getsemiel
Something was wrong, for sure, thought Tim. Their quarry (if the figure they'd seen was she, and who else would it be?) had disappeared from the road. And he was pretty sure this man had more time in the field than he did, and had a better eye for ambushes and the like. Keeping forward would simply give her more time to get past, and he didn't trust his own woodcraft to pick up her trail anyway.
He looked around at the terrain and asked also for Bryce's opinion. If this woman had left the road, was there a way to cut her off? (Like a stretch of open ground she'd have to cross to reach the city.)
[OOC: I can't frame the question as Tim would ask it because I can't picture the terrain.]
He looked around at the terrain and asked also for Bryce's opinion. If this woman had left the road, was there a way to cut her off? (Like a stretch of open ground she'd have to cross to reach the city.)
[OOC: I can't frame the question as Tim would ask it because I can't picture the terrain.]
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Porcelain Fish
- Mage/Priest War Veteran
- Posts: 449
- Joined: July 26th, 2009, 10:44 am
Re: Getsemiel
"Due respect Brother, trying to guess where a lone woman might get it in her head to go is a fool's game." Bryce's tone was mildly impatient as the horse cantered back down the hillside. "Especially a crazy one. She might be cutting back and around across the road farther up if she saw us to come from the other side, or she could be waiting in the bushes. As I recall, your man said she had a gun too, and she seemed pretty hostile from what he said. It'd be pretty stupid of us to walk into a trap where she could pick us off. I don't know about the priesthood, but soldiers don't get a firearm standard issue, and I'm not keen on finding out whether I can throw a knife faster than she can squeeze a trigger. We know she's here and apparently she's on foot. Now we need to get back to the others before she does."
He let out a sharp "Hya!" and heeled the palomino stallion's ribs, nudging the animal into a gallop toward the city gates.
[OOC: Problem solved lol. /OOC]
He let out a sharp "Hya!" and heeled the palomino stallion's ribs, nudging the animal into a gallop toward the city gates.
[OOC: Problem solved lol. /OOC]
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Alberich
- Noble Knight Protector
- Posts: 1892
- Joined: October 5th, 2008, 9:58 am
Re: Getsemiel
At Bryce's answer, Tim's anger rose - at Rose.
On hearing that this threat was pursuing them, out in the wilderness, it was she who'd decided to press forward to Getsemiel, instead of doubling back to end the threat right there. (After putting the blame on poor Fred Tarmage - damn her for that!) This way, she'd ensured that a determined and powerful enemy would follow them into the city, and if there was magic and violence, normal non-mage Veracians could be killed, and more than stables burned. Had she forgotten her duty to her people? Had she been around these foreigners so long that she'd picked up their attitudes? Perhaps common Veracians were meant to be just screaming backdrops to her magnificent adventures with her mighty mage friends. Perhaps they just didn't matter.
And what about you, Tim my boy? Did you point it out? Did you press the point? Did you even suggest scouting back in time to stop her? Or did you wait 'til too late?
Had she even mentioned in her reports that her Patriarch-Protected companion was a likely murderer of Veracians, and that her expedition's every step was dogged by the victim's avenging kinfolk? He felt sure he could make the family listen if he had a chance to talk...but it would help if he could assure them that the rightful authorities, the Church, would investigate the matter and see justice done. And with Rose in charge, he could not believe that himself.
Indeed, he still thought sending him ahead to meet the strange woman, wherever she was, would have been the best plan. If she was any real kin to Ronnie she wouldn't shoot a priest alone; and he might've been able to settle the whole thing without bloodshed. And if she had killed him? Then Bryce could've gotten away and told all.
But he did not speak another word, or raise the point again. He suspected that any order he gave on the subject would be disobeyed by this man, who doubtless cared more for his Tsuirakuan lover than for his own people and their safety. And there wasn't anything to do about it. Nothing. He couldn't shout the man into obedience, and if he reported to Rose? She'd probably back Bryce. No, he had to accept this as a battle lost, a mission failed, and the price would be paid by the humble folk of Getsemiel.
The half-elves, even Eli, would have understood better. Maybe Eli especially.
He held on to the saddle, and waited in silence.
On hearing that this threat was pursuing them, out in the wilderness, it was she who'd decided to press forward to Getsemiel, instead of doubling back to end the threat right there. (After putting the blame on poor Fred Tarmage - damn her for that!) This way, she'd ensured that a determined and powerful enemy would follow them into the city, and if there was magic and violence, normal non-mage Veracians could be killed, and more than stables burned. Had she forgotten her duty to her people? Had she been around these foreigners so long that she'd picked up their attitudes? Perhaps common Veracians were meant to be just screaming backdrops to her magnificent adventures with her mighty mage friends. Perhaps they just didn't matter.
And what about you, Tim my boy? Did you point it out? Did you press the point? Did you even suggest scouting back in time to stop her? Or did you wait 'til too late?
Had she even mentioned in her reports that her Patriarch-Protected companion was a likely murderer of Veracians, and that her expedition's every step was dogged by the victim's avenging kinfolk? He felt sure he could make the family listen if he had a chance to talk...but it would help if he could assure them that the rightful authorities, the Church, would investigate the matter and see justice done. And with Rose in charge, he could not believe that himself.
Indeed, he still thought sending him ahead to meet the strange woman, wherever she was, would have been the best plan. If she was any real kin to Ronnie she wouldn't shoot a priest alone; and he might've been able to settle the whole thing without bloodshed. And if she had killed him? Then Bryce could've gotten away and told all.
But he did not speak another word, or raise the point again. He suspected that any order he gave on the subject would be disobeyed by this man, who doubtless cared more for his Tsuirakuan lover than for his own people and their safety. And there wasn't anything to do about it. Nothing. He couldn't shout the man into obedience, and if he reported to Rose? She'd probably back Bryce. No, he had to accept this as a battle lost, a mission failed, and the price would be paid by the humble folk of Getsemiel.
The half-elves, even Eli, would have understood better. Maybe Eli especially.
He held on to the saddle, and waited in silence.
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Graybeard
- The Heretical Admin
- Posts: 7182
- Joined: August 20th, 2007, 8:26 am
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Re: Getsemiel
Brother Tyler, the man who had guided the group to the temple, entered Father Arnold's chambers, looking -- how else to describe it? -- mellow.
"Oh, wow," he breathed; Sister Rose was beginning to suspect that that was the temple's mantra. That, or "totally." She would not be disappointed by the rest of what the man had to say. "Yes, like, I totally saw the man you're looking for. I was over at the general store, getting, like, some munchies, you know? And this dude comes in, he's got this totally awesome horse he's riding, and buys about half the food in the store." His mellow smile got wider. "It was ... awesome."
Another mantra word, Rose deduced, correctly. However, there were two things this rather -- awesome -- young man had said that got her attention. First was that bit about the "awesome" horse. If Rose remembered right, Father Blaise had absconded with one of the draft horses that had hauled the wagon bearing him and the late Sister Bree to Umbertiel. There was very little "awesome" about a draft horse. Second, why buy vast quantities of food for one man on one (awesome) horse? There would be limits to what it could carry, and rural Veracia wasn't that uninhabited.
<"Something doesn't feel right here,"> she thought at Argus. <"Any idea what?"> She repeated the mind-speech in Maduin's direction, not sure whether his mind magic extended to telepathy, but reasonably convinced that it would. "Go on," she encouraged the man verbally; maybe the next thing out of his mouth would be more reassuring than what had emerged so far.
-------------
The mantra was beginning to catch on.
"Oh, wow..." Brad breathed as the brownie began to hit him; he was looking at Lillith, of course, but the proclamation seemed to be directed at the world in general.
------------
Very far away, a familiar man was getting a rather unexpected order.
"Oh, wow," he breathed; Sister Rose was beginning to suspect that that was the temple's mantra. That, or "totally." She would not be disappointed by the rest of what the man had to say. "Yes, like, I totally saw the man you're looking for. I was over at the general store, getting, like, some munchies, you know? And this dude comes in, he's got this totally awesome horse he's riding, and buys about half the food in the store." His mellow smile got wider. "It was ... awesome."
Another mantra word, Rose deduced, correctly. However, there were two things this rather -- awesome -- young man had said that got her attention. First was that bit about the "awesome" horse. If Rose remembered right, Father Blaise had absconded with one of the draft horses that had hauled the wagon bearing him and the late Sister Bree to Umbertiel. There was very little "awesome" about a draft horse. Second, why buy vast quantities of food for one man on one (awesome) horse? There would be limits to what it could carry, and rural Veracia wasn't that uninhabited.
<"Something doesn't feel right here,"> she thought at Argus. <"Any idea what?"> She repeated the mind-speech in Maduin's direction, not sure whether his mind magic extended to telepathy, but reasonably convinced that it would. "Go on," she encouraged the man verbally; maybe the next thing out of his mouth would be more reassuring than what had emerged so far.
-------------
The mantra was beginning to catch on.
"Oh, wow..." Brad breathed as the brownie began to hit him; he was looking at Lillith, of course, but the proclamation seemed to be directed at the world in general.
------------
Very far away, a familiar man was getting a rather unexpected order.
Because old is wise, does good, and above all, kicks ass.
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Drannin
- Prince of Space
- Posts: 1350
- Joined: August 15th, 2008, 2:46 pm
Re: Getsemiel
<"...You don't suppose it has anything to do with that airship?"> Argus thought at Rose uncertainly.
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Drusia
- Veteran of the Errant War
- Posts: 1293
- Joined: September 7th, 2009, 9:53 pm
Re: Getsemiel
Eli smiled at Desiree and held out a hand.
"Just try not to make anyone's eyes pop out their head." He said.
I smile back. "I'll try not to." I pause, glancing over at Lillith and Brad. Well, they've already disrobed, so I suppose we might as well join them.
I slide out of my clothes and step into the tub on the other side. I'm giving Lillith some space - she made herself clear last night, and I don't want to push her, but I also want to be around in case she changes her mind.
I lean back, enjoying the warm water. It feels absoutely wonderful.
"Brownie, sweetheart?" Brad said, munching one of his own.
Something clicks in my head. "Um, Brad," I say gently, "You might not want to eat too many of those." I consider trying one - just one - myself, but perhaps it would be best if I kept my wits about me.
-- Desiree
Edited for RetCon. OOC: Whoopse - missed that. Sorry.
"Just try not to make anyone's eyes pop out their head." He said.
I smile back. "I'll try not to." I pause, glancing over at Lillith and Brad. Well, they've already disrobed, so I suppose we might as well join them.
I slide out of my clothes and step into the tub on the other side. I'm giving Lillith some space - she made herself clear last night, and I don't want to push her, but I also want to be around in case she changes her mind.
I lean back, enjoying the warm water. It feels absoutely wonderful.
"Brownie, sweetheart?" Brad said, munching one of his own.
Something clicks in my head. "Um, Brad," I say gently, "You might not want to eat too many of those." I consider trying one - just one - myself, but perhaps it would be best if I kept my wits about me.
-- Desiree
Edited for RetCon. OOC: Whoopse - missed that. Sorry.
Last edited by Drusia on December 15th, 2011, 1:28 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Jack Rothwell
- Teller of Tales
- Posts: 2405
- Joined: June 17th, 2010, 7:35 am
- Location: Liverpool, England
Re: Getsemiel
Eli joined the trio, feeling a little self-conscious as he did. Not at the disrobing, but more from the perfectly rational fear some of the locals who were not, strictly speaking, in their right minds proclaim him a demon and rouse a troupe of militia to decorate him, Lilith and Desiree from the nearest tree.
The half-elf did steal a brief glance at Lilith, more from heterosexual reflex than anything else. He took Desiree's hand and felt some of the dread he'd felt coming up the road to the, decidedly nicer than the last, town slip away.
"What next?" He joked. "We investigate the purple-capped mushrooms and go for a dance in the woods?"
The half-elf did steal a brief glance at Lilith, more from heterosexual reflex than anything else. He took Desiree's hand and felt some of the dread he'd felt coming up the road to the, decidedly nicer than the last, town slip away.
"What next?" He joked. "We investigate the purple-capped mushrooms and go for a dance in the woods?"
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Porcelain Fish
- Mage/Priest War Veteran
- Posts: 449
- Joined: July 26th, 2009, 10:44 am
Re: Getsemiel
<It's not the locals.> Maduin's mental reply was pensive. <But what's slipped into town could be an altogether different matter. Is Blaise aware of the presence of another Warp Gate nearby, possibly leading to a locale that doesn't offer easily accessible food?>
He smiled warmly at Brother Tyler. "Could I trouble you to give us your impression of this man's physical appearance? Age? Clothing? Facial characteristics?"
<And another thing,> Maduin added. <What if he's not buying just for himself?>
He smiled warmly at Brother Tyler. "Could I trouble you to give us your impression of this man's physical appearance? Age? Clothing? Facial characteristics?"
<And another thing,> Maduin added. <What if he's not buying just for himself?>