Sun was beginning its ascent to the sky, the rays a gentle tingle on the back of one's neck. People were just waking from their sleep ready to do another good day's work, while the underworld retreated to their deep burrows from the oncoming scorch of the light which would no longer conceal their operations.
However, a tall achadhiel belonged to neither. Not a resident of the glorious city of Roque, still oddly purposeless, the young man sauntered along the early morning streets; though he took no step on the pavement bathed in gold, keeping to the receding shadows for now. Naturally, nobody troubled him, and he troubled none in return; just as no one took a note of him mostly, he too avoided giving the chance of any recognition, the gaze directed at his feet move in rhythm.
One, two; three, four; five, six... So his steps carried him, past faces and places he knew not. Not that he was lost, rather, he wished to be lost, if just for a moment.
Upon a closer observation, it would become clear, that the young achadhiel had had a long sleepless night. The dark rims surrounding the eyes, the slant of his normally upright posture, and a certain laxness in his demeanour told any sharp observant that something was pressing his mind; totally immersing him in it, oblivious of the world around and beyond.
"By Dominicus." Damon whispered to himself, when his feet failed to carry him any further. He was obliged to take a rest against the wall of one of the many buildings of the city, feeling the coolness of the stone, a soothing sensation amidst the heated warring in his head.
Yesterday had been one eventful day. It had started well, when he'd gained quick admission into the city. Afterwards, he'd spent some time venturing and just going with the flow, meeting a very peculiar and beautiful young woman.
Like something out of a fairytale. He noted dryly.
They'd befriended each other, somewhat, though he had messed up at a point. She'd disappeared; he'd left, though not without a souvenir. A talking colourful bird, Celeste. From there, it had been just more tumbling down. Blood, orcs, and dark adhiel; a fun-filled night to say the least. Now, after having left, he had spent the rest of his time wandering aimlessly; thinking, yet unable to think to a proper conclusion. Each time, the embarrassing moment was conjured to the surface of his mind.
Why? Why did I do that? Damon couldn't understand how he had broken down, utterly. And I just met her?
However, he felt there was more to it than just that. Could it be that he had been afraid, and broken down? The achadhiel shook his head. There'd been not a surge of any fear in him, as far as he remembered. Then there'd been that dark adhiel...
"Logan Darkrise." Damon mumbled under his breath. The name would remain in his memory forever, till his cherished blade was plunged deep into that accursed body.
But, the anger. He had felt so much anger, all at once, and he'd thought his emotions were under his complete sway. Of course, he could have just said he was still young, energetic and eager. But, to him, that was just an excuse with which to paint the issue black and white. It wasn't that simple. What if the other three; Frank, James, and Quinlan hadn't been there?
I'd be dead. Damon realised. His eyes moved up, away from the dust of the small alley he now stood in, to witness the sun's gradual rise into the blue sky. It was an omen of things to come, though the young man wondered, whether the future was bleak or promising to him.
None know their fate. His subconscious said.
"Aye." He said out loud, just for the fun of it. Who'd take notice of a scruffy, dead-tired achadhiel anyway?
The Morning After (Jygust 31 Early MT) Open to Any
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Damon Ryot
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The Morning After (Jygust 31 Early MT) Open to Any
Last edited by Damon Ryot on Sun Dec 21, 2008 1:43 am, edited 1 time in total.
Time fades, even legend...
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Haikan
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Nobody responded to Damon. The people were scarce, and those that passed him gave him a cursory glance, or even grunted at his appearance. He wasn't in the nicest neighborhood, and the street was dirty, the houses lined with mire. A rat skittered past his feet, and down the lane the echo of a crying child could be heard. A woman screamed but it was too far away to discern what from, and it was something completely ordinary in this block of land.
This was not at all Roque's finest representation of herself. There didn't seem to be many Roques around at all - if any - and everybody was walking with purpose.
This was not at all Roque's finest representation of herself. There didn't seem to be many Roques around at all - if any - and everybody was walking with purpose.
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Damon Ryot
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- Location: Roque now
Seems like I didn't come to the best of places. Damon mused, as he absorbed in the view of Roque at its 'finest'.
Just as expected, people paid him not an inkling of a thought; passing by as if he was a mere ghost just hovering by the alley. Those few, who took even some notice of him, passed him over as a bum or some hoodlum, or just a very scruffy and dirty achadhiel.
Guess good looks aren't everything.
At this time of the day the roads seemed to be quite free, not too many passersby anyway; or it could have something to do with the area he was in. Honestly said, Damon had no idea where he was, how he'd gotten here, but knew at least that he was still within the walls of Roque.
Although, who knows, maybe that merchant vessel carried him to some other world.
He shook his head. Every time his thoughts seemed to trace themselves back to last night. Normally, he was a quite laidback persona, not into hassling too much or thinking himself to the brink of insanity. Headaches, he hated headaches; they had such an overwhelming effect on him every time.
"Get a move on already." He told himself.
He wasn't planning to decorate this side of Roque for long. What he really required was a hot bath, a new set of clothes, and a bed with the softest pillow on earth to lay his troubled thoughts on. Just like back home...
The achadhiel did move off, coming out of the alleyway, joining the little packs of people moving purposefully; he still purposeless, but adamant of doing something. While walking, trying to keep his mind blank, a memory of last night crept into his head.
The orcs! Those two that had hired him. What had happened to them? Dead probably. He shrugged.
And they hadn't even paid him...
Not easy being penniless, homeless, and without your next move planned. As laidback as he might be, going with the flow wasn't always the best; you had to have a hold onto the reins from time to time.
Yeah, like last night.
Damon continued his sauntering about the 'finer' side of Roque, his eyes only a few inches from his feet, mostly oblivious of the surroundings. But, wasn’t he always?
Just as expected, people paid him not an inkling of a thought; passing by as if he was a mere ghost just hovering by the alley. Those few, who took even some notice of him, passed him over as a bum or some hoodlum, or just a very scruffy and dirty achadhiel.
Guess good looks aren't everything.
At this time of the day the roads seemed to be quite free, not too many passersby anyway; or it could have something to do with the area he was in. Honestly said, Damon had no idea where he was, how he'd gotten here, but knew at least that he was still within the walls of Roque.
Although, who knows, maybe that merchant vessel carried him to some other world.
He shook his head. Every time his thoughts seemed to trace themselves back to last night. Normally, he was a quite laidback persona, not into hassling too much or thinking himself to the brink of insanity. Headaches, he hated headaches; they had such an overwhelming effect on him every time.
"Get a move on already." He told himself.
He wasn't planning to decorate this side of Roque for long. What he really required was a hot bath, a new set of clothes, and a bed with the softest pillow on earth to lay his troubled thoughts on. Just like back home...
The achadhiel did move off, coming out of the alleyway, joining the little packs of people moving purposefully; he still purposeless, but adamant of doing something. While walking, trying to keep his mind blank, a memory of last night crept into his head.
The orcs! Those two that had hired him. What had happened to them? Dead probably. He shrugged.
And they hadn't even paid him...
Not easy being penniless, homeless, and without your next move planned. As laidback as he might be, going with the flow wasn't always the best; you had to have a hold onto the reins from time to time.
Yeah, like last night.
Damon continued his sauntering about the 'finer' side of Roque, his eyes only a few inches from his feet, mostly oblivious of the surroundings. But, wasn’t he always?
Last edited by Damon Ryot on Mon Dec 22, 2008 2:47 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Time fades, even legend...
Most people might have been walking these streets with a purpose, but Damon was not the only exception. There was also Arnholt, trudging along in his monastic robes, the butt of his staff tapping out time as he whistled a rather obscure Oneist hymn. He'd been up late again pursuing cult business; the Righteous Order's rituals usually lasted well into Gravetide, as the Goddess's holy Book required. Nevertheless, his mind was alert and his eyes were bright. Almost feverishly bright. Yesterday had been a grand day for the cause of Justice.
Arnholt walked these streets from time to time because this was just about the closest Roque d'Ancourt had to his old home in the poor quarter of King's Court. The sound of a distant scream actually made him smile, faintly, in something resembling nostalgia. Not to say that all the memories, or even many of them, were good. And that was another reason he came here: to keep his anger strong, and "hear" the Goddess more clearly. After all, this place reminded him of the adhiel ghettoes in World's Mouth, too... and even thinking that in passing was enough to set his hand tightening hard around his quarterstaff.
There was, of course, some legitimate Church business to be found here, too. Needy people and crap like that. Arnholt conscientiously did his part, offering a helping hand to anyone who looked like he or she especially needed it. It wasn't enough to dress like a monk for his disguise to work. You had to act like a monk, too. It never hurt to think about burnishing your reputation as a holy man. Which was why, when Arnholt came across a particularly raggedy and disconsolate-looking achadhiel this morning, he figured he might as well see if this was a chance for some good Oneist charity. And perhaps... just perhaps... a chance to do the work of the Goddess of Justice, as well.
"Good morning, brother. You seem troubled." Arnholt ventured an encouraging smile; just a shadow of his habitual grin. "If you need some assistance, perhaps the Light of the One can provide?"
Arnholt walked these streets from time to time because this was just about the closest Roque d'Ancourt had to his old home in the poor quarter of King's Court. The sound of a distant scream actually made him smile, faintly, in something resembling nostalgia. Not to say that all the memories, or even many of them, were good. And that was another reason he came here: to keep his anger strong, and "hear" the Goddess more clearly. After all, this place reminded him of the adhiel ghettoes in World's Mouth, too... and even thinking that in passing was enough to set his hand tightening hard around his quarterstaff.
There was, of course, some legitimate Church business to be found here, too. Needy people and crap like that. Arnholt conscientiously did his part, offering a helping hand to anyone who looked like he or she especially needed it. It wasn't enough to dress like a monk for his disguise to work. You had to act like a monk, too. It never hurt to think about burnishing your reputation as a holy man. Which was why, when Arnholt came across a particularly raggedy and disconsolate-looking achadhiel this morning, he figured he might as well see if this was a chance for some good Oneist charity. And perhaps... just perhaps... a chance to do the work of the Goddess of Justice, as well.
"Good morning, brother. You seem troubled." Arnholt ventured an encouraging smile; just a shadow of his habitual grin. "If you need some assistance, perhaps the Light of the One can provide?"
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Damon Ryot
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- Location: Roque now
Mmh? Damon was brought out of the confines of his weary mind when he heard himself being addressed by someone just beside him. This stopped the achadhiel dead in his tracks, his legs sighing in relief as their strain was lessened.
Wearily, he raised his head up; quite taken aback that someone took out of their precious time to note his existence. He was twice as taken aback, when he came to witness who it was that had actually approached him.
Standing but a few inches below him, was a monk; of a religious sect he was very conversant with. The initial reaction was hard to misinterpret, after all in the robes and the staff the man held in his hand, he did represent his faith quite clearly. The beard and bald head seemed to enhance this image even more; though he had to admit the facial features to him seemed a bit jagged. Not at all what he was used to seeing in the followers of the One. But, they did come in all shapes and sizes, now didn’t they.
Damn, Dominicus... Certainly, it seemed that things had begun to get from bad to worse here. Meeting a member of the One's church was the last thing on his to-do list here in Roque; he'd battle a throng of orcs gladly, instead of being in the presence of the One's apostle. His past was littered with uncomfortable memories of what he'd endured back at home, and he’d thought in a place as big as this he’d not need to see them as often again. Already...and it’s just my second day. He groaned.
Swiftly, he tried to conceal the tension from both his face and demeanour, also he tried to quiet his raging thoughts; so they wouldn't conflict with what he expressed outwardly to the man.
The young achadhiel returned the smile, though barely, his body still feeling drained by last night. Now, as his visual impression of the stranger was made, he took note of what the man had said to him in the first place.
"Good morning." He returned the greeting, unable to muster much cheer in his tone though. "Well, I don't think I need to lie about my situation. It's quite clear, I believe." At this he was able to show an inkling of his good humour.
"I thank you, sir, for your offer of assistance. But, I wouldn't want to be a burden on you, as you must be very busy in carrying out the One's will."
Wearily, he raised his head up; quite taken aback that someone took out of their precious time to note his existence. He was twice as taken aback, when he came to witness who it was that had actually approached him.
Standing but a few inches below him, was a monk; of a religious sect he was very conversant with. The initial reaction was hard to misinterpret, after all in the robes and the staff the man held in his hand, he did represent his faith quite clearly. The beard and bald head seemed to enhance this image even more; though he had to admit the facial features to him seemed a bit jagged. Not at all what he was used to seeing in the followers of the One. But, they did come in all shapes and sizes, now didn’t they.
Damn, Dominicus... Certainly, it seemed that things had begun to get from bad to worse here. Meeting a member of the One's church was the last thing on his to-do list here in Roque; he'd battle a throng of orcs gladly, instead of being in the presence of the One's apostle. His past was littered with uncomfortable memories of what he'd endured back at home, and he’d thought in a place as big as this he’d not need to see them as often again. Already...and it’s just my second day. He groaned.
Swiftly, he tried to conceal the tension from both his face and demeanour, also he tried to quiet his raging thoughts; so they wouldn't conflict with what he expressed outwardly to the man.
The young achadhiel returned the smile, though barely, his body still feeling drained by last night. Now, as his visual impression of the stranger was made, he took note of what the man had said to him in the first place.
"Good morning." He returned the greeting, unable to muster much cheer in his tone though. "Well, I don't think I need to lie about my situation. It's quite clear, I believe." At this he was able to show an inkling of his good humour.
"I thank you, sir, for your offer of assistance. But, I wouldn't want to be a burden on you, as you must be very busy in carrying out the One's will."
Last edited by Damon Ryot on Mon Dec 22, 2008 4:57 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Time fades, even legend...
Arnholt, for his part, was looking up... actually up... at what looked to be a very young achadhiel man. Hard to guess at an exact age, what with the adhiel blood of course. And while he wasn't able to follow the whole gamut of emotions the stranger was going through, he did detect a remarkable lack of enthusiasm with regards to his offer. Remarkable because this fellow had as much as admitted he was in need. It wasn't hard to guess, therefore, this fellow wasn't a big fan of Dominicus's Church. But Arnholt's smile only broadened. That suited him just fine.
"You are not a believer, I take it," he answered dryly. "Nevertheless, the One God loves all of his children, even those who deny Him. I carry out the good Lord's will by helping those who need it, regardless of their faith... or lack thereof. And the monastery's doors are open to everyone, as well." Arnholt thumped the butt of his staff against the ground for emphasis. "I may be a man of God, but I lived most of my life as a man of the world. Let me be blunt: I'm offering you free room and board and a chance to get back on your feet. You look like you need it. And brother, you won't find a better deal anywhere else."
The cultist/monk's eyes narrowed slightly as a new thought occurred to him. Could this guy be a refugee from T'aquar? And escapee from Pax Balthasar, even? Mere wild speculation of course. But depending on how strong this achadhiel's grudge against the Church was, he might indeed be valuable to Righteous in the future. He might also be quite reluctant to accept help from a Oneist monk. But that still didn't mean that he had to let a potential convert just slip away. The Mother's temple would owe him if he tossed a little business their way, at least. If he did so circumspectly.
"I am aware of course," he went on thoughtfully, "that the Church has... not always been a friend to those of adhiel blood. If you prefer not to sleep under the monastery's roof, I may be able to help you regardless. I have friends in the local adhiel community who often take in refugees. I can contact them for you if you would like. Either way, don't stand on pride, man; come with me to the monastery."
"You are not a believer, I take it," he answered dryly. "Nevertheless, the One God loves all of his children, even those who deny Him. I carry out the good Lord's will by helping those who need it, regardless of their faith... or lack thereof. And the monastery's doors are open to everyone, as well." Arnholt thumped the butt of his staff against the ground for emphasis. "I may be a man of God, but I lived most of my life as a man of the world. Let me be blunt: I'm offering you free room and board and a chance to get back on your feet. You look like you need it. And brother, you won't find a better deal anywhere else."
The cultist/monk's eyes narrowed slightly as a new thought occurred to him. Could this guy be a refugee from T'aquar? And escapee from Pax Balthasar, even? Mere wild speculation of course. But depending on how strong this achadhiel's grudge against the Church was, he might indeed be valuable to Righteous in the future. He might also be quite reluctant to accept help from a Oneist monk. But that still didn't mean that he had to let a potential convert just slip away. The Mother's temple would owe him if he tossed a little business their way, at least. If he did so circumspectly.
"I am aware of course," he went on thoughtfully, "that the Church has... not always been a friend to those of adhiel blood. If you prefer not to sleep under the monastery's roof, I may be able to help you regardless. I have friends in the local adhiel community who often take in refugees. I can contact them for you if you would like. Either way, don't stand on pride, man; come with me to the monastery."
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Damon Ryot
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- Location: Roque now
Damon nearly went for his sword when he heard the monk accuse of him being a non-believer, true to the bone of course, and the young man was alert immediately knowing very well what was about coming. But the achadhiel relaxed a bit, surprised to see the warm smile of the man only broaden when his thesis was proved, and then the monk expanded upon the accusation; beginning to speak the same nonsense he'd heard the others dish out throughout his life. Only then to return with the same benevolent attitude changed to a fanatical, merciless mask.
But, then the monk continued even further.
Is this man for real?
The tone was genuine, his facial expressions not acted or rehearsed, but just as earnest as the monk spoke. Damon did glance about him a bit from the corner of his eyes, expecting something; anything, yet nothing happened. His tension relieved a bit more.
A free room, food and water, perhaps even a change of clothes and a good scrub behind the ears... The offer was tempting. Considering the fact that he had nowhere to go, knew no one, and possessed nothing of worth that could accumulate him at least something to go by for some time in the city. It would be, as they say, insane of him not to accept.
Yet, Damon didn't jump at the offer so quickly. To accept a room, even free, from this man would mean that he would be housed...
In the lion's den itself. Obviously, it was in the monastery or wherever they resided that he would be taken. And, even if this monk didn't care as to his faith in the One, there would be others that just might; just might pose a problem.
However, just as the young man was about to reject the offer, betting he'd survive longer on the streets than amongst the wolves themselves, the monk came up with another offer.
Yes, it was true. His mother had told him a lot about it, how the adhiel had been persecuted by Dominicus and his zealots until finally the Oneists came to say all were His children. He didn't know where the monk was getting at this, as far as he knew he hadn't been chased away from anywhere, except the kitchen when pilfering. Nonetheless, the second invitation extended to him was irresistible.
To see the faces so familiar to him from back home, to hear his mother tongue spoken again with such melody...ah! To speak it once more! So far, he had adapted his lips to the clumsy and hurried speech of the humans, and though his father had taught him well; even his was limited by the scope of his academic life. Not much to boast there. And, if they were not part of the church, the better, though he happened not to be a refugee, as far as he knew.
"I thank you, kind sir." He bowed his head as a sign of the respect this monk had acquired of him now. "Truly, the Church was not always friendly to the adhiel. My heart is warmed that I could find such kindness within here, to me, a mere stranger. Even more so, for to see the faces I've gotten so used to back at home, and to once more hear and speak amongst them." Damon brought his head back up, having regained most of his composure now. The eyes twinkled slightly, the tensed muscles of the face relaxed into a slight smile, and now all suspicion regarding this man had faded away.
"I would be so pleased, if you truly could arrange for me to stay with these friends of yours, at least for awhile since I have no place of my own. Thank you, sir."
Although the issue of his faith had been breached, Damon doubted it held much regard now; surely this man would have done something by now if he'd wanted to. Perhaps this man knew something he didn't know...
Now he was intrigued, as well as glad.
Let's see. He told himself, restraining the curiosity off of him, for now.
But, then the monk continued even further.
Is this man for real?
The tone was genuine, his facial expressions not acted or rehearsed, but just as earnest as the monk spoke. Damon did glance about him a bit from the corner of his eyes, expecting something; anything, yet nothing happened. His tension relieved a bit more.
A free room, food and water, perhaps even a change of clothes and a good scrub behind the ears... The offer was tempting. Considering the fact that he had nowhere to go, knew no one, and possessed nothing of worth that could accumulate him at least something to go by for some time in the city. It would be, as they say, insane of him not to accept.
Yet, Damon didn't jump at the offer so quickly. To accept a room, even free, from this man would mean that he would be housed...
In the lion's den itself. Obviously, it was in the monastery or wherever they resided that he would be taken. And, even if this monk didn't care as to his faith in the One, there would be others that just might; just might pose a problem.
However, just as the young man was about to reject the offer, betting he'd survive longer on the streets than amongst the wolves themselves, the monk came up with another offer.
Yes, it was true. His mother had told him a lot about it, how the adhiel had been persecuted by Dominicus and his zealots until finally the Oneists came to say all were His children. He didn't know where the monk was getting at this, as far as he knew he hadn't been chased away from anywhere, except the kitchen when pilfering. Nonetheless, the second invitation extended to him was irresistible.
To see the faces so familiar to him from back home, to hear his mother tongue spoken again with such melody...ah! To speak it once more! So far, he had adapted his lips to the clumsy and hurried speech of the humans, and though his father had taught him well; even his was limited by the scope of his academic life. Not much to boast there. And, if they were not part of the church, the better, though he happened not to be a refugee, as far as he knew.
"I thank you, kind sir." He bowed his head as a sign of the respect this monk had acquired of him now. "Truly, the Church was not always friendly to the adhiel. My heart is warmed that I could find such kindness within here, to me, a mere stranger. Even more so, for to see the faces I've gotten so used to back at home, and to once more hear and speak amongst them." Damon brought his head back up, having regained most of his composure now. The eyes twinkled slightly, the tensed muscles of the face relaxed into a slight smile, and now all suspicion regarding this man had faded away.
"I would be so pleased, if you truly could arrange for me to stay with these friends of yours, at least for awhile since I have no place of my own. Thank you, sir."
Although the issue of his faith had been breached, Damon doubted it held much regard now; surely this man would have done something by now if he'd wanted to. Perhaps this man knew something he didn't know...
Now he was intrigued, as well as glad.
Let's see. He told himself, restraining the curiosity off of him, for now.
Time fades, even legend...
"I am Brother Beacon," Arnholt said, now flashing his typical, cheery grin. "Might I have your name, sir?" And then, "Well, brother, there are some of us in the Church who believe the recent was a... miscarriage of Justice. I, like those of my brothers and sisters who are of the same mind on this matter, do what I can to assist our adhiel and achadhiel friends whenever the opportunity presents itself. Just one of our ways of trying to help heal the wounds of that terrible conflict, for the establishment of a just and lasting peace. Come this way, brother."
And the cultist priest went stumping off, waving for Damon to follow. To the monastery, of course, as he'd said in the beginning. Given the secretive nature of the Earth Mother's temple, Arnholt doubted that they'd appreciate him just marching in on them, even if it was to bring home one of the Mother's own lost sheep. Better to send a message beforehand. Even then they might wind up thinking that this young achadhiel was some sort of Oneist plant... but given their mystical powers of truth-detection, they would soon see that Damon was entirely on the level. Or at least he was as far as Arnholt knew.
"You understand, of course, the recent tension in this city makes our monastery's relationship to the adhiel community something of a delicate matter," he told Damon as they arrived at the gates of the monastery. The cultist priest ran his fingers through his beard thoughtfully. "But I will send along a message to let them know you're coming, and I expect we can have you on your way to them within a mark or two. In the mean time I'll ask Sister Shiera to look after you and perhaps find you a change of clothes. You'll like her, I think... since you're lonely for the company of adhiel."
Sister Shiera was indeed an adhiel. And also a mindcrafter, of course. All in all, she was about the perfect choice to do some judicious prodding to find out Damon's story, and perhaps to see if he was indeed a worthy candidate for future recruitment to the Righteous Order. In the mean time, Arnholt would be tracking down Velvel to run a message to the pagans asking if they'd take Damon off the monastery's hands. Suspicious nature aside, Arnholt couldn't imagine that the Mother's priestess would say no. She could have the man... until such time, if ever, Arnholt wanted him back.
In any case, the first thing he had to do was find Shiera.
And the cultist priest went stumping off, waving for Damon to follow. To the monastery, of course, as he'd said in the beginning. Given the secretive nature of the Earth Mother's temple, Arnholt doubted that they'd appreciate him just marching in on them, even if it was to bring home one of the Mother's own lost sheep. Better to send a message beforehand. Even then they might wind up thinking that this young achadhiel was some sort of Oneist plant... but given their mystical powers of truth-detection, they would soon see that Damon was entirely on the level. Or at least he was as far as Arnholt knew.
"You understand, of course, the recent tension in this city makes our monastery's relationship to the adhiel community something of a delicate matter," he told Damon as they arrived at the gates of the monastery. The cultist priest ran his fingers through his beard thoughtfully. "But I will send along a message to let them know you're coming, and I expect we can have you on your way to them within a mark or two. In the mean time I'll ask Sister Shiera to look after you and perhaps find you a change of clothes. You'll like her, I think... since you're lonely for the company of adhiel."
Sister Shiera was indeed an adhiel. And also a mindcrafter, of course. All in all, she was about the perfect choice to do some judicious prodding to find out Damon's story, and perhaps to see if he was indeed a worthy candidate for future recruitment to the Righteous Order. In the mean time, Arnholt would be tracking down Velvel to run a message to the pagans asking if they'd take Damon off the monastery's hands. Suspicious nature aside, Arnholt couldn't imagine that the Mother's priestess would say no. She could have the man... until such time, if ever, Arnholt wanted him back.
In any case, the first thing he had to do was find Shiera.
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Damon Ryot
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- Joined: Mon Aug 25, 2008 7:25 pm
- Location: Roque now
Brother Beacon He memorised the name, along with the face, quite certain he would be able to connect those two fast enough should the need arise. After all, who would so easily forget the face of his saviour?
"My name is Damon." The achadhiel said, deciding his last name probably wasn't required of him right now. Besides, he didn't like telling people it anyway, preferring to remain a bit vague just in case.
But, he doubted Brother Beacon was up to anything here, just the work of his good will and good ties to the adhiel society, which became very clear as the monk spoke about how he and some like him had disliked the...injustices of those recent times.
He felt his respect for this man soar up even higher, wondering if there ever would be a limit to it.
Damon complied, as he was motioned to follow, keeping in pace just a few strides behind the monk. They walked for a bit, the young man trailing a little after, until they finally arrived at the gates of the monastery. It was, as if he expected.
A monastery, what else?
Having kept quiet the short walk, the monk once again drew his attention to certain facts. Facts, he wasn't at all surprised to hear.
"Yes, I understand the possible strains that may be between the two." He said. Then, after the other had finished, said with sincere gratitude once more. "Thank you very much, Brother Beacon. Your good will is something pretty astounding to find here, just when I thought the worst..."
His face lit up in a cheery smile. "Guess I misjudged the people of Roque."
Sister Shiera... Well, if he wasn't mistaken, she was an adhiel woman. Not that there was much to misinterpret in what the monk had said, he really did long to talk to some in his dialect, having spoken it throughout his life it was always more relaxing to switch to it. Although, he had come to Roque with one primary goal being improving his common language, and reading and writing in both of the two.
Maybe even pick up one or two more.
However, he had other aspirations too, much higher up the scale than merely learning languages. Damon stood calmly to one side, observing the monk, wondering whether he'd be asked to follow him inside the monastery or asked to wait. He would prefer to wait outside, maybe even not actually step inside the building, but the man's kindness required an equal measure of tolerance from him. He might not like Dominicus and His congregation, but he had to respect others beliefs, after all it wasn't as if the Oneists were the only ones around.
But, it is the most annoying. The young achadhiel mused in his ignorance of the wider world.
"My name is Damon." The achadhiel said, deciding his last name probably wasn't required of him right now. Besides, he didn't like telling people it anyway, preferring to remain a bit vague just in case.
But, he doubted Brother Beacon was up to anything here, just the work of his good will and good ties to the adhiel society, which became very clear as the monk spoke about how he and some like him had disliked the...injustices of those recent times.
He felt his respect for this man soar up even higher, wondering if there ever would be a limit to it.
Damon complied, as he was motioned to follow, keeping in pace just a few strides behind the monk. They walked for a bit, the young man trailing a little after, until they finally arrived at the gates of the monastery. It was, as if he expected.
A monastery, what else?
Having kept quiet the short walk, the monk once again drew his attention to certain facts. Facts, he wasn't at all surprised to hear.
"Yes, I understand the possible strains that may be between the two." He said. Then, after the other had finished, said with sincere gratitude once more. "Thank you very much, Brother Beacon. Your good will is something pretty astounding to find here, just when I thought the worst..."
His face lit up in a cheery smile. "Guess I misjudged the people of Roque."
Sister Shiera... Well, if he wasn't mistaken, she was an adhiel woman. Not that there was much to misinterpret in what the monk had said, he really did long to talk to some in his dialect, having spoken it throughout his life it was always more relaxing to switch to it. Although, he had come to Roque with one primary goal being improving his common language, and reading and writing in both of the two.
Maybe even pick up one or two more.
However, he had other aspirations too, much higher up the scale than merely learning languages. Damon stood calmly to one side, observing the monk, wondering whether he'd be asked to follow him inside the monastery or asked to wait. He would prefer to wait outside, maybe even not actually step inside the building, but the man's kindness required an equal measure of tolerance from him. He might not like Dominicus and His congregation, but he had to respect others beliefs, after all it wasn't as if the Oneists were the only ones around.
But, it is the most annoying. The young achadhiel mused in his ignorance of the wider world.
Time fades, even legend...
"Well met, then, Damon." Tradition would have usually dictated a blessing as well, but since he wasn't dealing with a "fellow" Oneist Arnholt figured he needn't bother.
"You are of course quite welcome." Arnholt glanced back briefly, a droll smile on his lips this time. "Much as it pains me to say it, though, you weren't entirely wrong. There are a great many people of adhiel blood in this city. But... elf or human... not everyone here is your friend. Roque d'Ancourt can be a dangerous place. You need to be careful who you trust."
Which was true of any city, naturally. Arnholt had yet to explore the seamier side of Roque well enough to be really well informed about it; he wasn't sure how common it was here for a man to wind up dead in the gutter for the change in his raggedy pocket. But if that sort of thing did happen in Roque, which seemed more likely than not, Righteous knew the part of the city he'd found Damon in was just about the best possible place for it to happen. Think of it that way, and he'd really rescued the lad. Sort of. Possibly.
"Which is why it's just as well that I came across you," he added mildly. "The friends I'm referring you to are fine folk."
At the monastery gates Arnholt did indeed beckon Damon to enter with him. After all, the last thing he wanted was some asshole monk to wander along and scare the young pagan off with some traditional Oneist hoopla. And if he couldn't find Shiera right away, it might be a little while before he got hold of someone who could direct him to her.
(OOC: After this I think we'll need to wait for a mod post.
)
"Thank you very much, Brother Beacon. Your good will is something pretty astounding to find here, just when I thought the worst..."
His face lit up in a cheery smile. "Guess I misjudged the people of Roque."
"You are of course quite welcome." Arnholt glanced back briefly, a droll smile on his lips this time. "Much as it pains me to say it, though, you weren't entirely wrong. There are a great many people of adhiel blood in this city. But... elf or human... not everyone here is your friend. Roque d'Ancourt can be a dangerous place. You need to be careful who you trust."
Which was true of any city, naturally. Arnholt had yet to explore the seamier side of Roque well enough to be really well informed about it; he wasn't sure how common it was here for a man to wind up dead in the gutter for the change in his raggedy pocket. But if that sort of thing did happen in Roque, which seemed more likely than not, Righteous knew the part of the city he'd found Damon in was just about the best possible place for it to happen. Think of it that way, and he'd really rescued the lad. Sort of. Possibly.
"Which is why it's just as well that I came across you," he added mildly. "The friends I'm referring you to are fine folk."
At the monastery gates Arnholt did indeed beckon Damon to enter with him. After all, the last thing he wanted was some asshole monk to wander along and scare the young pagan off with some traditional Oneist hoopla. And if he couldn't find Shiera right away, it might be a little while before he got hold of someone who could direct him to her.
(OOC: After this I think we'll need to wait for a mod post.
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Damon Ryot
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- Joined: Mon Aug 25, 2008 7:25 pm
- Location: Roque now
How true the Brother was. Roque was not at all as friendly as his father had described to him; well times had probably changed since his old man's last visit, but he doubted whether bloodthirsty thieving orcs were part of the better denizens of the city.
"Yes, it is good you found me, Brother." Damon said. "Who knows what might have happened." This sprinkled with slight humour.
The monk motioned for the young achadhiel to follow him inside the monastery. Although, he was a bit apprehensive towards this idea; his memories of the past years clawing at the surface of his conscious mind. But, the Brother's kindness and genial manner encouraged him to follow nonetheless.
I hope none of those fanatics butt in along the way. He was dead tired, and not ready to defend his beliefs and ideals, especially by the sonorous sound of steel.
As he entered the monastery behind the monk, he fell into deep thought; wherein he tried to picture this Sister Shiera the other had told him about. An adhiel woman, yes, but what would she be really like?
Guess I have to just wait and see. Damon told himself, afterwards keeping an alert eye out for any Oneists who were much too keen on converting 'non-believers'. Hopefully, nobody would disturb him while with Brother Beacon.
(OOC-Aight)
"Yes, it is good you found me, Brother." Damon said. "Who knows what might have happened." This sprinkled with slight humour.
The monk motioned for the young achadhiel to follow him inside the monastery. Although, he was a bit apprehensive towards this idea; his memories of the past years clawing at the surface of his conscious mind. But, the Brother's kindness and genial manner encouraged him to follow nonetheless.
I hope none of those fanatics butt in along the way. He was dead tired, and not ready to defend his beliefs and ideals, especially by the sonorous sound of steel.
As he entered the monastery behind the monk, he fell into deep thought; wherein he tried to picture this Sister Shiera the other had told him about. An adhiel woman, yes, but what would she be really like?
Guess I have to just wait and see. Damon told himself, afterwards keeping an alert eye out for any Oneists who were much too keen on converting 'non-believers'. Hopefully, nobody would disturb him while with Brother Beacon.
(OOC-Aight)
Time fades, even legend...
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Haikan
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As Arnholt and Damon entered, Shiera was near the entrance of the monastery, having a seemingly deep conversation with Lionel, who was apparently hanging on her every word, with the starry eyes of a young learning monk. He nodded his head as she made hand gestures explaining a point, and he clenched his fist heroically in front of him as she nodded back to him. He then ran off humming a Dominican hymn excitedly. Sister Shiera turned to Arnholt and her eyes wandered to Damon, sizing up his filthy but oddly tall appearance. Her face melted into a compassionate look and she returned her gaze to Arnholt.
"Brother Beacon, is this one of the adhiel we were going to meet? I'm sorry, where are my manners. Hello, I am Sister Shiera, and welcome to the monastery. I hope that we can help you in whatever way possible." She herself was an adhiel, of a much more normal height, standing at just under five feet at first glance, give or take a couple inches.
"Brother." She nodded to Arnholt, with a sincerely concerned look on her face.
"Brother Beacon, is this one of the adhiel we were going to meet? I'm sorry, where are my manners. Hello, I am Sister Shiera, and welcome to the monastery. I hope that we can help you in whatever way possible." She herself was an adhiel, of a much more normal height, standing at just under five feet at first glance, give or take a couple inches.
"Brother." She nodded to Arnholt, with a sincerely concerned look on her face.
Avatar by vickyjane
"No, Sister, I think not. Just a young man who looked like he could use a hand up." Arnholt gestured to the achadhiel vagrant with his staff. "Sister Shiera, meet Damon. He isn't a member of our Church, but he seems like a good man." With his free hand he flashed a thumb across his palm, and then hooked fingers twice as he spoke, indicating that Damon was neither a Oneist nor a cultist but that Arnholt hoped he could be convinced to join the Righteous Order in time.
"While he isn't one of our adhiel friends, he would be more comfortable staying with them than here at the monastery. Of course, times being what they are, I think I had better go ahead and clear it with them first. In the mean time, perhaps you could see about providing for his immediate needs. Clothing for one." While of course he didn't say it aloud, Arnholt was also expecting Shiera to see if she could poke around in Damon's brain a little and find out whether he might be susceptible to the Goddess of Justice's call.
To Damon he said, "I'll be back shortly, my friend. I'm sure Sister Shiera will take good care of you." And then Arnholt was off to throw a plain brown robe over his white ones, so as not to draw too much attention when he visited the pagans' 'hidden' temple. While he was there, he'd have to remember to ask if there was a more convenient place to drop off any other "stray" adhiel he found... or at least those who declined the monastery's shelter.
"While he isn't one of our adhiel friends, he would be more comfortable staying with them than here at the monastery. Of course, times being what they are, I think I had better go ahead and clear it with them first. In the mean time, perhaps you could see about providing for his immediate needs. Clothing for one." While of course he didn't say it aloud, Arnholt was also expecting Shiera to see if she could poke around in Damon's brain a little and find out whether he might be susceptible to the Goddess of Justice's call.
To Damon he said, "I'll be back shortly, my friend. I'm sure Sister Shiera will take good care of you." And then Arnholt was off to throw a plain brown robe over his white ones, so as not to draw too much attention when he visited the pagans' 'hidden' temple. While he was there, he'd have to remember to ask if there was a more convenient place to drop off any other "stray" adhiel he found... or at least those who declined the monastery's shelter.
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Damon Ryot
- Civus
- Posts: 113
- Joined: Mon Aug 25, 2008 7:25 pm
- Location: Roque now
Damon took in the adhiel woman, Sister Shiera, with detailed examination. Well, the conclusion was that this was a true genuine adhiel, standing nearly a foot below him in height; just like his mother. Although, he saw little resemblance of his mother in this woman, but seeing the slender features that he had gotten so accustomed through the years triggered some sort of nostalgia in him. Unknowingly, to him that was, a slight smile caressed his lips as he looked down at the woman and then at Brother Beacon; his saviour.
He listened attentively to the monk when he told Sister Shiera that he would be in need of some help. Damon kept a careful watch over the woman, to see her reaction as to the fact that he wasn't a member of the church, though he had little doubts this pleasant looking adhiel.
Pleasant? Because she is an adhiel? Well, that could be it. But, he wasn't prejudiced towards people by their faces, races, and skin colours anyway or did he make assessments based on merely such flimsy data. Mostly deeds counted in his books. And Brother Beacon had already gained a very high position in there, it would remain to be seen whether this Sister Shiera was alike.
So far so good.
"Thank you, Brother Beacon." Damon said with a small bow as the monk walked off, to confirm his stay with the adhiel. Then, turning to the Sister, he greeted her.
[In Adhiel]
"Good morning, Sister Shiera." This with a slight bow at the end. He didn't say more, though having strained from speaking his native tongue at first because of Brother Beacon; he wished not to break into an entire flood of talking just yet. Let the Sister talk first he decided.
He listened attentively to the monk when he told Sister Shiera that he would be in need of some help. Damon kept a careful watch over the woman, to see her reaction as to the fact that he wasn't a member of the church, though he had little doubts this pleasant looking adhiel.
Pleasant? Because she is an adhiel? Well, that could be it. But, he wasn't prejudiced towards people by their faces, races, and skin colours anyway or did he make assessments based on merely such flimsy data. Mostly deeds counted in his books. And Brother Beacon had already gained a very high position in there, it would remain to be seen whether this Sister Shiera was alike.
So far so good.
"Thank you, Brother Beacon." Damon said with a small bow as the monk walked off, to confirm his stay with the adhiel. Then, turning to the Sister, he greeted her.
[In Adhiel]
"Good morning, Sister Shiera." This with a slight bow at the end. He didn't say more, though having strained from speaking his native tongue at first because of Brother Beacon; he wished not to break into an entire flood of talking just yet. Let the Sister talk first he decided.
Time fades, even legend...
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Haikan
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The pretty young elfess nodded to Arnholt obediently, and offered a hand to Damon. "Come along, I'll show you around." She paused however, as he spoke in her mother-tongue. She was much more fluent in adhiel, but hadn't had much opportunities to use the language lately. She continued to speak to him in adhiel.
"Damon, I am your friend. I won't lie to you, I used to be a fortuneteller, and I can see that you are nervous about your situation in this city. You can trust us here at the monastery.. I assure you that there is a reason there are so many adhiel that worship here. Compassion is shown here, while in some places only intolerance and a sickening lack of sympathy are exercised. Also those that stay under this roof are safe, protected. Sanctuary is given and the law protects it, no matter what." She wanted him to trust her, and she wasn't going to let Arnholt's guest feel unwelcome. The words she spoke were true of course, this monastery was standalone in it's courtesy to non-Dominicans, much to the dismay of some, but she wasn't sure Damon would quickly believe her. It took her awhile to come around, so she expected the same from Damon. She wasn't worried though. She had no interest in converting him to the One Church, she merely wanted him to be comfortable and feel welcome.
"Take my hand, Damon. Let me show you around the place, and you can make a judgment as to whether you think it is a suitable place to stay until you are back on your feet."
"Damon, I am your friend. I won't lie to you, I used to be a fortuneteller, and I can see that you are nervous about your situation in this city. You can trust us here at the monastery.. I assure you that there is a reason there are so many adhiel that worship here. Compassion is shown here, while in some places only intolerance and a sickening lack of sympathy are exercised. Also those that stay under this roof are safe, protected. Sanctuary is given and the law protects it, no matter what." She wanted him to trust her, and she wasn't going to let Arnholt's guest feel unwelcome. The words she spoke were true of course, this monastery was standalone in it's courtesy to non-Dominicans, much to the dismay of some, but she wasn't sure Damon would quickly believe her. It took her awhile to come around, so she expected the same from Damon. She wasn't worried though. She had no interest in converting him to the One Church, she merely wanted him to be comfortable and feel welcome.
"Take my hand, Damon. Let me show you around the place, and you can make a judgment as to whether you think it is a suitable place to stay until you are back on your feet."
Last edited by Haikan on Thu Jan 08, 2009 5:46 am, edited 1 time in total.
Avatar by vickyjane
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Damon Ryot
- Civus
- Posts: 113
- Joined: Mon Aug 25, 2008 7:25 pm
- Location: Roque now
Ah...
To once again hear the very words spoken in that beautiful, oh so beautiful dialect of the elves. His dialect. Of all the languages in this cruel, cruel world, surely adhiel had to be the most beautiful amongst all the angst; with its careful yet eloquent articulation and precise meaning from each and every word pronounced, sentence uttered, sermon delivered. As he listened to Sister Shiera speak his mother-tongue, so well which he knew meant it must have been hers too, he began to recall things; to once more know the bliss of life. A life of his past which, though under Dominicus had been stressful to say the least, was still filled with a myriad of memories.
Memories, which now surfaced to his immediate mind; the familiar faces and places of his native land. So many good memories...Yet, even there were memories he only knew by hearsay mostly. A land, filled by so much grief and misery, brought by the very people he now leant onto. Truly this world was unjust, filled with so many evil men and women.
No!
Damon shook his head, figuratively speaking, as he warded off such thoughts. Brother Beacon, Sister Shiera...they were not of the same calibre as those others had been; the ruthless invaders. These were benevolent people, wishing only to look after him; not every Oneist could be evil even though he or she followed the Old Fool. And, the arcane words of his mother-tongue could not lie after all.
The young achadhiel looked down at the extended hand; an offering of help and a shoulder to lean on. He knew he was dirty, worn out, and nearly hopeless after just one day in Roque, but that was all about to change now as was promised.
He took the hand, placing his right in hers gently, as his brown eyes looked into hers with unfathomable gratitude. Gratitude, he had to express in what little he could muster, for he was nearly overwhelmed by the very bliss she had infused in him.
"Go agiu sali, Acha Shiera." (Thank you, Sister Shiera)
Damon smiled, as the words escaped his lips. He could not help it, the features of the pretty adhiel woman coupled with what had just been said; he couldn't help restraining the joy.
"I'll come with you." He said, the fingers of his right hand now wrapping around her hand; ready to be led away.
To once again hear the very words spoken in that beautiful, oh so beautiful dialect of the elves. His dialect. Of all the languages in this cruel, cruel world, surely adhiel had to be the most beautiful amongst all the angst; with its careful yet eloquent articulation and precise meaning from each and every word pronounced, sentence uttered, sermon delivered. As he listened to Sister Shiera speak his mother-tongue, so well which he knew meant it must have been hers too, he began to recall things; to once more know the bliss of life. A life of his past which, though under Dominicus had been stressful to say the least, was still filled with a myriad of memories.
Memories, which now surfaced to his immediate mind; the familiar faces and places of his native land. So many good memories...Yet, even there were memories he only knew by hearsay mostly. A land, filled by so much grief and misery, brought by the very people he now leant onto. Truly this world was unjust, filled with so many evil men and women.
No!
Damon shook his head, figuratively speaking, as he warded off such thoughts. Brother Beacon, Sister Shiera...they were not of the same calibre as those others had been; the ruthless invaders. These were benevolent people, wishing only to look after him; not every Oneist could be evil even though he or she followed the Old Fool. And, the arcane words of his mother-tongue could not lie after all.
The young achadhiel looked down at the extended hand; an offering of help and a shoulder to lean on. He knew he was dirty, worn out, and nearly hopeless after just one day in Roque, but that was all about to change now as was promised.
He took the hand, placing his right in hers gently, as his brown eyes looked into hers with unfathomable gratitude. Gratitude, he had to express in what little he could muster, for he was nearly overwhelmed by the very bliss she had infused in him.
"Go agiu sali, Acha Shiera." (Thank you, Sister Shiera)
Damon smiled, as the words escaped his lips. He could not help it, the features of the pretty adhiel woman coupled with what had just been said; he couldn't help restraining the joy.
"I'll come with you." He said, the fingers of his right hand now wrapping around her hand; ready to be led away.
Last edited by Damon Ryot on Thu Jan 08, 2009 2:53 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Time fades, even legend...
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Haikan
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This boy...
Shiera's eyes were closed and her face was respectful, blank. It almost looked as if she was concentrating on something, perhaps her etiquette or her appearance. As Damon thanked her, her eyes opened abruptly, and a small smile formed on her lips. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently. She spoke in a delicate, soft voice, which was Damon's exact dialect somehow, still in adhiel. "Your past troubles end here, Damon. I've been where you have, and I've felt the pain... But there is only justice in the future. This I tell you as a sister under our mother. You mustn't be so trusting with everyone though, Damon. Arnholt and I do only have the best of intentions for you, but some might try to take advantage of you."
She smiled again, with her full lips forming a cute curve on her elegant face, and her large delicate brown eyes sparkled in the light of day. Arnholt, I will take care of this boy for your sake, for mine... And for his.
Shiera's eyes were closed and her face was respectful, blank. It almost looked as if she was concentrating on something, perhaps her etiquette or her appearance. As Damon thanked her, her eyes opened abruptly, and a small smile formed on her lips. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently. She spoke in a delicate, soft voice, which was Damon's exact dialect somehow, still in adhiel. "Your past troubles end here, Damon. I've been where you have, and I've felt the pain... But there is only justice in the future. This I tell you as a sister under our mother. You mustn't be so trusting with everyone though, Damon. Arnholt and I do only have the best of intentions for you, but some might try to take advantage of you."
She smiled again, with her full lips forming a cute curve on her elegant face, and her large delicate brown eyes sparkled in the light of day. Arnholt, I will take care of this boy for your sake, for mine... And for his.
Last edited by Haikan on Thu Jan 08, 2009 5:30 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Avatar by vickyjane
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Damon Ryot
- Civus
- Posts: 113
- Joined: Mon Aug 25, 2008 7:25 pm
- Location: Roque now
Damon nodded promptly to this. He might be young, he might be inexperienced, he might be quite ignorant of life as well; but he was certain that he was no fool. For him to have...basically eluded Dominicus' brainwashing grasp all these years, more than a decade; surely that was a feat of some measure.
The young achadhiel was a bit surprised as Sister Shiera spoke back to him in the very dialect he did, which meant only one thing...
Is she from there as well?
This was a slight surprise. He hadn't expected to meet one, so far from home. But, of course. Wasn't he here? He might not know her goals, intentions, and ambitions in the end, but he was quite certain he could trust her. After all, they were all the same under the Mother just as the Sister had said.
"Thanks for your words of wisdom, Sister." He said with a smile attempting to imitate hers, poorly though. It seemed his bodily functions diminished in their ability as they had not been nourished for some time. Nonetheless, he tried to continue with what rips he had still intact. "But, I will say this straight to you and hope none understand as I say it, for my sake I think. I do not have any place in my heart, mind, or body for...Dominicus, Sister Shiera. I know I am blunt, but this past of mine you refer to...it truly has been quite troublesome. I need not say more than that for now. However, if I have offended you, my dear sister, then I will gladly excuse from the grounds of this monastery. Your help is only voluntary, and I have no right to abuse your faith. For in all, as you may call me non-believer, I have one firm belief. That is the belief in your very own beliefs. What ever doctrines you follow, whatever scriptures you peruse, and whatever light you hold dear to your heart...Your beliefs, Brother Beacon's, mine, and everybody's are meant to be chosen and not forced upon oneself. That I believe is monstrous, to recruit and...literally subject their minds to zealous worship...Ah..."
Damon blushed slightly as he realised he had said too much, within a Dominicus' monastery!
"I am sorry, Sister Shiera." He said his head dipping low, while his hand slipped out of hers to limply hang by the side once more. He had been too straightforward, much too straightforward here. Perhaps the help he had so needed would be retracted. But, he would make no amends for the One; if it had to be, he would gladly walk out back into the harsh world and try his best.
He had survived so far, right?
The young achadhiel was a bit surprised as Sister Shiera spoke back to him in the very dialect he did, which meant only one thing...
Is she from there as well?
This was a slight surprise. He hadn't expected to meet one, so far from home. But, of course. Wasn't he here? He might not know her goals, intentions, and ambitions in the end, but he was quite certain he could trust her. After all, they were all the same under the Mother just as the Sister had said.
"Thanks for your words of wisdom, Sister." He said with a smile attempting to imitate hers, poorly though. It seemed his bodily functions diminished in their ability as they had not been nourished for some time. Nonetheless, he tried to continue with what rips he had still intact. "But, I will say this straight to you and hope none understand as I say it, for my sake I think. I do not have any place in my heart, mind, or body for...Dominicus, Sister Shiera. I know I am blunt, but this past of mine you refer to...it truly has been quite troublesome. I need not say more than that for now. However, if I have offended you, my dear sister, then I will gladly excuse from the grounds of this monastery. Your help is only voluntary, and I have no right to abuse your faith. For in all, as you may call me non-believer, I have one firm belief. That is the belief in your very own beliefs. What ever doctrines you follow, whatever scriptures you peruse, and whatever light you hold dear to your heart...Your beliefs, Brother Beacon's, mine, and everybody's are meant to be chosen and not forced upon oneself. That I believe is monstrous, to recruit and...literally subject their minds to zealous worship...Ah..."
Damon blushed slightly as he realised he had said too much, within a Dominicus' monastery!
"I am sorry, Sister Shiera." He said his head dipping low, while his hand slipped out of hers to limply hang by the side once more. He had been too straightforward, much too straightforward here. Perhaps the help he had so needed would be retracted. But, he would make no amends for the One; if it had to be, he would gladly walk out back into the harsh world and try his best.
He had survived so far, right?
Last edited by Damon Ryot on Thu Jan 08, 2009 11:21 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Time fades, even legend...
By now Arnholt had thrown on his plain brown traveller's robe over his Oneist whites, and slipped out of the monastery as casually as possible, which after all was probably what both Father Rohan and the pagans would have wanted him to do when making contact with the Mother's temple. While the cultist rarely had occasion to work as a thief anymore, he still had his old underworld instincts. He approached the hidden temple in a roundabout way, blending into street traffic and slipping through shadowed alleyways as the opportunity presented itself, in a manner intended to throw off any possible pursuit. Finally arriving at the pagans' door, he knocked briefly to enter, pulling his hood away from his face slightly so that they'd recognize him from the last time he'd come.
(OOC: For simplicity's sake, I thought I'd keep Arnholt's actions in this same thread, rather than start a very short side thread and then return. If you'd rather I do the sidethread Haikan, just send me a PM.)
(OOC: For simplicity's sake, I thought I'd keep Arnholt's actions in this same thread, rather than start a very short side thread and then return. If you'd rather I do the sidethread Haikan, just send me a PM.)
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Haikan
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Shiera put her arm around Damon's waist and led him inside. Unbeknownst to him, she was now as intimately familiar with the boy's as he was. A charming and perhaps even loving smile remained on her face, and the two of them disappeared inside the doors of the monastery. He is a strong spirit, and he's certainly proud. I think he might even be a righteous one...
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In the other direction Arnholt moved, toward the hidden temple that he'd visited not too long ago. Nearby a certain Velvel was waiting, evidently expecting his Brother of Righteousness. In truth, he was simply hesitant to enter the temple and he stood there long enough for Arnholt to stumble across him on happenstance, but ever the actor, he grinned and cupped his hands on the monk's shoulders.
"Ah Brother, good to see you here. Do you suppose it's time to visit the theater?"
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Inside the Temple, even the well-lit hallways seemed dark in their artificial illumination after the bright sunlight had been shut out by the closing front doors. It took Damon's eyes half a burn to adjust, but in time he could see several monks and nuns praying over a table in a meeting-room. Shiera led him down a long hallway, past Rohan's office, and she spoke quietly.
"Would you like to discuss your philosophy further, Damon?"
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In the other direction Arnholt moved, toward the hidden temple that he'd visited not too long ago. Nearby a certain Velvel was waiting, evidently expecting his Brother of Righteousness. In truth, he was simply hesitant to enter the temple and he stood there long enough for Arnholt to stumble across him on happenstance, but ever the actor, he grinned and cupped his hands on the monk's shoulders.
"Ah Brother, good to see you here. Do you suppose it's time to visit the theater?"
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Inside the Temple, even the well-lit hallways seemed dark in their artificial illumination after the bright sunlight had been shut out by the closing front doors. It took Damon's eyes half a burn to adjust, but in time he could see several monks and nuns praying over a table in a meeting-room. Shiera led him down a long hallway, past Rohan's office, and she spoke quietly.
"Would you like to discuss your philosophy further, Damon?"
Last edited by Haikan on Wed Jan 14, 2009 8:29 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Damon Ryot
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Damon did not resist as Sister Shiera put an arm around his waist, and led the young achadhiel further into the monastery; though he kept his arms hanging by his sides. A tender smile caressed the beautiful adhiel's lips, lighting up the face even in the nigh impenetrable darkness they plunged into.
Could it be? Damon mused. She didn't seem offended by his remark, not at all; the exact opposite. It was almost as if she could read his very mind and soul word by word, if things of the soul could be conveyed by such meagre means. Nonetheless, he returned a little smile of his, though it was smudged by the worries and turbulent thoughts of the young man's.
As Damon's eyes began to adjust themselves to the lack of light, he saw the nuns and monks huddled over a table, praying to their One God.
Dominicus...
Every time the mere utter of the name of the Old Man had his face contort to an expression bearing pure hatred; rooted deeply into his very fabric.
But, looking away, and at Sister Shiera; all of it was swept away. Reminding him that not all who followed Dominicus were of the same make; benevolent souls existed even amidst the wolves, after all.
"Well, my philosophy is not originally mine." He said with an amused smile. "But, it was what had me leave my home in the first place, when I couldn't just...you know, take any more of it." He glanced nervously around, though speaking adhiel, the young man feared someone or something just might overhear.
"Anyway. I believe strongly that one must hold onto what he or she finds dearest in their lives. What fills it with joy, keeps you going everyday no matter what happens, and gives a meaning to everything. Life, it is short; no matter whether you live up to fifty or five hundred. You must fulfil yourself, within the allotted time here, and if you do not...Alas, your loss as you sink into the deep abyss, where you will forget and be forgotten, forever more." His face assumed a stoic outlook, as memories swiftly passed by him. But, they were fleeting, and he recovered just as quickly to continue before the adhiel woman could.
"But, those are just my rambling. Now, would you mind me asking, how is that you came to...be part of all this?" Damon asked politely, gesturing with his right hand to the hallway they were passing through, as if it encompassed the entire foundation of the religion itself. "That is, if you can of course. I do not wish to intrude after all."
Could it be? Damon mused. She didn't seem offended by his remark, not at all; the exact opposite. It was almost as if she could read his very mind and soul word by word, if things of the soul could be conveyed by such meagre means. Nonetheless, he returned a little smile of his, though it was smudged by the worries and turbulent thoughts of the young man's.
As Damon's eyes began to adjust themselves to the lack of light, he saw the nuns and monks huddled over a table, praying to their One God.
Dominicus...
Every time the mere utter of the name of the Old Man had his face contort to an expression bearing pure hatred; rooted deeply into his very fabric.
But, looking away, and at Sister Shiera; all of it was swept away. Reminding him that not all who followed Dominicus were of the same make; benevolent souls existed even amidst the wolves, after all.
"Well, my philosophy is not originally mine." He said with an amused smile. "But, it was what had me leave my home in the first place, when I couldn't just...you know, take any more of it." He glanced nervously around, though speaking adhiel, the young man feared someone or something just might overhear.
"Anyway. I believe strongly that one must hold onto what he or she finds dearest in their lives. What fills it with joy, keeps you going everyday no matter what happens, and gives a meaning to everything. Life, it is short; no matter whether you live up to fifty or five hundred. You must fulfil yourself, within the allotted time here, and if you do not...Alas, your loss as you sink into the deep abyss, where you will forget and be forgotten, forever more." His face assumed a stoic outlook, as memories swiftly passed by him. But, they were fleeting, and he recovered just as quickly to continue before the adhiel woman could.
"But, those are just my rambling. Now, would you mind me asking, how is that you came to...be part of all this?" Damon asked politely, gesturing with his right hand to the hallway they were passing through, as if it encompassed the entire foundation of the religion itself. "That is, if you can of course. I do not wish to intrude after all."
Time fades, even legend...
"Ah Brother, good to see you here. Do you suppose it's time to visit the theater?"
Arnholt blinked in mild surprise to find Velvel here. "The theater? Well..."
Well what? It had seemed clear that Shiera and Damon had taken rather well to one another. He doubted that the raggedy achadhiel would be in a rush to leave the monastery right now, or that he'd mind very terribly if 'Brother Beacon' was delayed for a short while longer. The cultist had to admit, he was very interested in seeing this 'theater' of Velvel's. Besides which, the call of Righteous' power was as strong as ever. It would be very nice to practice in a place where they could enjoy a greatly reduced risk of discovery.
"...I don't see why not," he agreed. "But where... did..." Arnholt's voice trailed off as realization struck, and he glanced at the hidden temple with some incredulity. "There, Brother?"
"An outdated building whose use is unimportant to the betterment of society," Velvel had said. Which, arguably, the Mother's Temple was. It seemed absurd, however, to suggest that they practice summoning the Goddess of Justice's miracles in such a place, surrounded by suspicious pagans. Even if they were allowed i,n and could find some out of the way place, would be just as dangerous as calling on the power of Justice in the monastery itself. 'Regular' pagans were no more friendly to daemon-worshippers than the Oneists themselves were.
Unless...? Unless the Mother's worshippers weren't there anymore. They had said outright that they could easily move their temple elsewhere. If they'd decided that allowing the Oneists to know the location of their home temple was too dangerous, in spite of the agreed-upon peace conference, then this temple might be nothing more than a vacant husk by now. Arnholt wouldn't have thought they'd have taken that step within a single day, but...
"You know something that I don't?" he asked Velvel, his voice pitched very low.