Entrance Thread for Marek Vellion

[Guest]

Marek’s fears evaporated at the stern but reassuring reply. He accepted me… He really accepted me! A knot eased in his stomach and if the situation had not called for his undivided attention, he might have smiled.

Following his Illuminatus’ instructions, the young man listened to the song, more at ease than he had been in a long time. Yes, he would remember this place, this feeling, this music. He would carry this song within for the rest of his life.

[Guest]

Remember this song, this place - My place. Serve me well, Marek Vellion.

Marek was once again in the pool on the isle. The old woman waited near the water's edge with a towel.

The brilliant light and feeling of peace and balance was not gone, but it was only a shadow of what it had been in the actual presence of the god. Still, if he tried, Marek would find he could bring forth a stronger version of the light within himself.

"Do come, child of light. We don't want you to shrivel away in the pool. That would be no welcome."

[Guest]

For another burn, Marek was content to just stand and enjoy these feelings of tranquillity and balance, until the old woman’s voice brought him to his senses.

“No welcome of yours could ever be less than gracious, milady.” The immense respect Marek felt for the Guardian fuelled his immediate reply. Rubbing a hand over his eyes, he waded through the pool towards her and reached for the towel.

Marek stepped into his breeches and pulled his tunic over his head. When his clothing was adjusted and more or less presentable, he tied his hair back and turned to the Guardian with a faint smile. “I apologize for being quiet, but I am still a bit dazed.”

He cast a glance back at the quieting surface of the pool, dark eyes filled with wonder and gratitude. About to explain further, he remembered how she had addressed him. Child of light. I guess it shows. But of course she would know what to look for. The young man decided the Guardian had no need for lengthy explanations. Most likely, she understood his current mood better than he did.

“Milady, do you know where I am supposed to go now? Should I report to someone?” He smiled a bit sheepishly. “I don’t really know what to do from here. Where I am supposed to go, or who to see.”

[Guest]

“Ah, the light leaves one a bit overwhelmed at first, boy? Not uncommon. We will get to the Temple soon enough. First we must make sure you have sustenance for the tour of the Isle. Come.”

She opened a door that had not previously been apparent in the shadowy corner of the room. Down a short hall was a small room. A table and a few wooden chairs were all the furnishing. The table was set with a variety of fresh fruits and vegetables as well as some fresh baked bread and cheeses. There were pitchers of water, juice, milk and ale and a pot of tea. A small rack of cups and dishes hung on one wall, over a sink.

“Here. Sit and eat what you will. It is the hospitality due after your long journey. It will prepare you for the lengthy walk ahead. Beyond that, your own faith and your Lord will provide.”

[Guest]

Marek nodded in reply to the lady’s words, grabbed his backpack and followed, matching his longer strides to hers.

He took a plate from the rack and helped himself to several slices of bread. A mouth watering scent was released when the crust broke, reminding Marek that he was in fact very hungry. After a flicker, he added another slice and some cheese. He poured a cupful of milk, and then looked over to the old woman, checking whether she intended to join him before he seated himself.

“A tour sounds good”, he remarked, privately hoping he'd be able to keep up with her. His body needed work, and soon. For a burn or two he fretted over his lack of shape until other thoughts vied for his attention. He wondered what the Isle would be like, and where he’d sleep tonight. What lessons would he learn? When would they start? In thoughtful silence, he finished his meal.

He washed the plate and cup, and returned them to the rack.

Reaching for his back pack, the young man gave the Guardian an expectant smile. “I’m ready for that tour whenever you are, milady.”

[Guest]

The woman stood patiently and waited for her charge to attend to his need to eat. When he was done and had washed his plate, she moved to the door.

“Very well, then.”

She then led the way back through a different hallway than the one the had come from earlier and out into a courtyard area.

The central town or settlement was surprisingly built up in the manner of a city- albeit with fewer buildings and much more space between. The streets were crowded with folk both mundane and priestly. Dusty-robed scholars traveled like lines of ants to and from the main Library of the Isle which was located pretty centrally and near both the “Common” residence complex and the temple complex of Illuminatus. There were many parks and gardens. All manner of temples. A few market areas or streets where merchant shops were set up - although many of these were lacking the catchy signs and slogans that were common in such establishments back in Citadel.

After much walking and greeting various folk on the street, the old woman returned with Marek to the street in front of the Library.

“Are there any questions you have or places you’d like to see before I turn you over to the Temple of Light?”

[Guest]

Marek walked beside her during the tour, backpack hoisted over one shoulder. He listened attentively to her explanations and looked at every building she pointed out. He enjoyed the busy streets, which made him feel at home, used as he was to the busy Citadel traffic.

He watched men and women as they walked by, his gaze following a couple of men in priestly robes. They reminded him of Leyra, who had worn her priestly robes when they had first met, although one couldn’t quite compare that skimpy outfit with the robes of these priests. He grinned at the memory, and fleetingly wondered if she too had received her first training here. Did Pan even have a temple on the Isle? He thought the Guardian had pointed out one complex as Pan’s, but there had been so much information, it had all become a blur in his mind.

When his tour guide suggested she’d deliver him to the temple, he nodded gratefully. “No more questions.” He said, managing a small smile. “It will take me a bit to digest all I’ve seen and heard today.“ Worried she might think him rude, he added, “I enjoyed seeing it all, and I will explore more of the Isle if duties and training permit."

At once tense and eager, the young man waited for the old lady to lead the way. As they approached the complex, he could feel the light of Illuminatus shining within.

[Guest]

She led him to the small complex dedicated to the order of Illuminatus. White marble bathed in a warm radiant light gave the building a surreal appearance. Sure of her way, Marek's guide led him through a huge entry area decorated with hundreds of candles mounted in intricately crafted settings. Two young priests were busy cleaning the area and replacing candles that had burned low. The warm light radiated out to even the most remote corners of the room and the two novices seemed quite content with what appeared to be a laborious task.

Through a maze of halls, the guardian continued with her charge, stepping gracefully across the smooth marble tiles. Finally she slowed and stopped just outside of a small chapel area. An older priest in threadbare white robes was seated on the bench next to the door. He looked rather vexed at the Lady's presence.
"Ah, another one, just when I thought my chore sheets were completed. Now I shall have to redo the lot of them."

"Good day to you, Gravis." The Lady was unmoved by the priest's grumpy manner. "I take it Govard is out on an errand. Please see to it that this young man is taken care of and properly introduced to your order."
She turned to Marek. "Good tidings young man. May your god's light lead you true. I leave you now in the capable hands of Father Gravis, assistant housemaster."

Marek was then left in the company of the rather gruff older priest.
"So, a new arrival: a new light to focus. A new mouth to feed and head to rest. Since Father Govard is not present, please do tell me your name origin and what calling you have that brings you to our temple here on the Isle."

[Guest]

Father Gravis’ welcome wasn’t quite what he had envisioned. Not that he had expected cheers and trumpets sounding, but being treated like an unwelcome chore took Marek by surprise. Instinctively, he straightened and met the Priest's gaze squarely with his own, determined to leave a decent impression despite the unpromising start.

“Good tide, Father Gravis.” He greeted respectfully. “My name’s Marek Vellion and I have come from the Citadel to the Isle to learn. It is my calling to serve Illuminatus as his paladin.” He kept his answer as short as the question had been, intent to waste as little of the Father's time as possible. It was the only assistance he could offer for now.

Placidly, he awaited the Priest's further instructions.

[Guest]

“You? A paladin?”
Gravis clearly thought some mistake had been made. When Marek did not correct him, he simply snorted and sniffed and turned to open the office door.
“Follow me, Marek Vellion of Citadel.”

He walked into a large office that was probably once a private chapel area: carving decorated the walls and there were marks on the floor where an altar table might have stood. The gold-veined white marble of walls and floor gave this room a cool, clean feeling. The details of warriors and priests and religious scenes depicted in the wall friezes were shiny - as if only recently dusted and polished. The white wooden desk had a similar glow to it. Gravis went to the desk, carefully opened a large book and began scratching away at the page with a long quill pen. There were several large, comfortable looking white chairs with golden-yellow upholstery, but Gravis did not seat himself - nor did he indicate that Marek should be so impudent as to make himself comfortable.

“Very good, novice Marek. Please explain to me your calling and what ways you think you may be of use to our order. What skills or training have you? Have you family connected to the Temple?”

[Guest]

The comfortable chairs looked mightily appealing to Marek and he entertained a brief hope Father Gravis intended to continue their conversation in these pleasant surroundings. His hopes were soon dashed when the grumpy Priest ignored all but some large book and began asking his questions. Figures… At least he knows how to get things done in a hurry.

“No, my family has no connections to Temple or Church. They are in trade. I have only come to the Light of Illuminatus recently and bring little more than my Faith and Determination. I have held a rapier before, but I am not a practised swordsman.” He surmised. Even in his own ears the list of his skills sounded meagre.

While he waited for the Priest to finish his scribing, Marek’s gaze roved over the room. When the art work attracted his eye, he was almost glad he had not been seated. Slowly he strode over, drawn to admiring the craftsmanship that had created these scenes. From closer view they appeared as well made as the first look had suggested. “Splendid.” He murmured in honest appreciation.

He’d have enjoyed studying these further, but behind him the pen had stopped scribbling, alerting him that either Father Gravis was done with the task or had something more to ask him. He turned around and smiled at the priest, returning his full attention to the man.

[Guest]

The silence was broken by approaching footsteps - the soft clack of sandals on marble. The man who came through the door was round - round belly, round bald head, and mouth open in a little circle of surprise to find his office occupied in his absence.

“Well...” he appraised the situation while smoothing out the long sleeve of his white robe. Silver and gold threads were worked into a starburst symbol at his neck.
“Gravis, thank you for starting the process with our prospective novice. I believe I can take things from here. Commander Swann is waiting for you in the courtyard - something about stains in the garden or somesuch?”
His tone was both friendly and authoritative.

Gravis stood erect and started to say something, then thought better of it and bowed to the newcomer.
“Yes, Father Govard. I am familiar with that issue. I will leave our new paladin-to-be, a Marek Vellion, in your hands. Good tide.”
Gravis then departed rather hurriedly.

Once the unpleasant priest had exited, Govard relaxed his posture a bit. His blue-gray eyes lit up with enthusiasm for the new member of the order.
“Good. Good. Marek then...”
He read through Gravis’s notes, smiling at some secret joke.
“From Citadel then, yet no connection to the Purple Guard. Unusual. What is your background? Education? Please don’t be nervous, I’m only trying to place your training needs. You have already passed the judgment of Illuminatus, so do not be afraid I’ll send you packing.”
His smile was genuine and there was a definite fatherly quality to him.

[Guest]

Marek remained silent during the exchange between the two priests, discretely pretending he wasn’t there until Father Gravis took his leave. He offered the man a slight bow – it was all he had time for. Apparently, when Gravis intended to do something, he did it fast.

Turning to Govard with a smile, he offered a nod at the summary of Father Gravis’ notes.

“Yes, that is correct, Father Govard. My family are in the trade and I have come to the faith of Illuminatus only recently. I made my decision to follow the Calling of Light after careful consideration. The morning after I had decided to inform my family and friends of my calling, I woke up on the shore.”

“As for education, I have had private tutoring, but was never more than a passing student.” Marek cocked his head, mentally reviewing the information given. He tried to think of more, but nothing came to mind.

“I’m afraid I’ll need a lot of training but I don't mind working hard, Father."

[Guest]

"I see... well you're not the roughest recruit we've ever had. We'll of course need to assign you a mentor. But for now I'll leave that decision open. I'm more interested in your own expectations: what role do you see for yourself as a paladin, for there are many different types of paladin. Some serve as teachers or guardians here on the isle. Others serve in Citadel at the Purple Guard. Some travel from community to community seeking out those who need Lumi's light the most. What service most appeals to you? And what areas of study?"

"We will of course train you in arms and warfare and in the harnessing of spiritual energy if you show promise at such, but what other areas interest you?"

[Guest]

The young man couldn’t help but grin. “It never occurred to me there were other choices to be made… “

Cupping his chin in his palm, he mused, voicing his thoughts out loud. “I’ve seen the life of the paladin as a symbiosis between strength, faith and wisdom. The Purple Guard would not seem an unreasonable choice. But Father, I just came from the Citadel.”

Marek laughed, an honest and open laugh. “It feels like a lot of work to bring me here and then have me go back to do what I could have done easier in the Citadel in the first place.” He sobered, his tone becoming more serious, “Aside from that, Father, although I know the Purple Guard does good work, they have many an aspirant in the city eager to join.” He shook his head, “if I were sent there, I am sure I would do so happily, but if it is to be my –choice-, then no..that would not be my path.”

“For teaching, I lack knowledge and wisdom. Perhaps some day, if I am to be that fortunate, I could return for a life of teaching and guarding here. But not yet, I don’t think.”

He smiled over at Father Govard, “Those are merely reasons, of course, Father, to justify what my heart tells me. I –want- to travel. I know it’s a bit selfish too but the thought of seeing this world, being sent wherever the Light needs me, that is what I would want to do.”

[Guest]

"Oh, goodness no. I did not mean we would send you elsewhere for training. You are to continue here on the isle for some time. Especially if you are meant to travel on your own. You will need special preparation in these dangerous times. Darkness threatens and its forces would like nothing better than to lessen our numbers."

"We would not risk one of our recruits without making every attempt to ensure you were equipped to face what may await. Well, not usually. There has been corruption even here on the holy isle that have made some unorthodox adjustments in training schedules necessary."
Govard frowned at this last, clearly uncomfortable about something.

"But hopefully that is behind us now. Do realize that the path you have chosen may well be a dangerous one. For you do not merely follow where the light leads- you are the light that ventures out into darkness. Even with the blessing of the Light and the training we provide, many who follow the path do not return."

His mood softened once more and he consulted the notes in his book with some thought.
"Let's see. We'll have you with Father Bane for the next few marks to evaluate your needs at arms training. He will be your mentor for this initial level of training. Then to Damrod for Meditation. Perhaps you can get a start on Theology as well this eveningtide. Brother Felton has a discussion group starting up of mixed-level initiates. That will certainly get you better acquainted with your new calling's philosophy and theories. There will be time to add other subjects in a few days. For now, the basics are essential. now, if you'll come with me, I believe Bane is in the courtyard."

Govard led the way back into the maze of halls that made up the temple complex. As they went, he pointed out various areas of interest.
"There, the healers hall and recovery rooms. The library. The commissary. Dormitories- oh, why don't we go ahead and drop your things off in your cell. For now you have the luxury of a private room."

Mareks room was tiny with a small bed, a desk, a chest and little else save for a fancy silver lamp. The pair continued out of the building and into a large courtyard area. On one end, a handful of students were practicing with long wooden swords. Nearer, two paladins - man and a woman - both in full armor were having a heated discussion. It broke off as Govard and the new novice approached. The woman stormed off.

The man, taller than Marek by half a head and easily twice his weight, turned to greet the pair.
"Father Govard," he said with a cordial nod, "is this my new trainee?"

"Indeed, Bane, meet Marek Vellion, newly arrived from Citadel."
The tall man took in the newcomer with a quick flash of his brown eyes. Bane was an imposing figure. There was his size, yes, but also a crispness about him that made him stand out from the background. An sort of humming like the energy of a hovering wasp. His armor was obviously of fine quality, but bore the marks of many battles. The man himself had a face tanned into rough texture by the sun, with more than a few minor scars to mark his battle experience.

Bane grasped Marek's arm in greeting. It was like shaking hands with a mountain.
"Well, I can see we've some work before us, eh? At least there's a good strong frame to work with. Well met, lad"

[Guest]

“Corruption?” He lofted a brow questioningly at Father Govard as he followed him through the halls. His brow lofted even higher at the mentioning of a private cell. The welcome had been far from friendly, but he had not realised it had gotten to the point where they felt he should be kept away from the more fit students.

Ever since he had set foot on the island Marek had been greeted with scepsis, hesitation and at one point even open hostility. That Father Govard appointed him a private cell did little to reassure the young man. Nonetheless, he dropped off his backpack near the bed and glanced around, nodding to the Priest with what might be interpreted as gratitude, “Thank you. It’s more than I had dared to expect.”

As they left, Marek glanced at the door, checking whether it bolted from the inside or outside.

Striding after Father Govard, Marek remained silent for the duration of their walk.

When I am old, I’ll laugh at this, he thought with some exasperation. Why am I not welcome on this Island? Something I said? Illuminatus didn’t seem too pleased with me either. Maybe I arrived at a bad time but then... they could have just taken me aside and explained.

He sighed, inhaling deeply to brace for the next encounter with one of the Island’s inhabitants. If this was going to be replay of the former meetings, he prayed his patience and good manners would hold.

He nodded briskly at the man when he was introduced, gritting his teeth at Father Govard’s remark about the citadel. After the treatment Marek had received so far, a catty ~ and no connections to the Purple Guard, thank you ~ lay upon his tongue. He smiled wrily, noticing he was in danger of losing his sense of humor.

Father Bane, well met. Goodtide to y…” He started, cut short when Bane grasped his arm and commented about his physique. Or lack thereof.

He had done his best to ease the Guardian's doubts until she had let him pass. He had endured Illuminatus’ scepsis and had been grateful for what he had received. He had faced Father Gravis' open contempt and Govard’s hesitation. Now he faced Bane, and he found he had enough. Quite enough.

“YES! Thank you for pointing out that I am not the most fit student who ever arrived here! You are only the fifth voicing doubts and I THINK I got the message. Let me add to this that NO, I don't think I should have joined the Purple Guard, and that YES, I am certain of my calling. Also, I am very aware I don't exactly have the Caesor's body and since we haven't gotten to it yet, NO, I don't come with a glowing nimbus of mental perfection either!”

His feet set somewhat apart and his arms folded over his chest, Marek faced Father Bane grimly. His voice returned its normal level and was almost courteous when he added. "I don't know what kind of students this place normally gets that I am openly scorned and doubted upon arrival, but let me tell you this ... No matter who else you've trained or how good they were, you've yet to encounter one as stubborn as I am." His cold gaze levelled with the other man's and he spoke low and slowly, issueing every word very clearly. "I.. am...not...leaving."

If they indeed tried to pester him off the island, they would have to call in the reserve ... or kill him.

[Guest]

Bane showed excellent restraint and self-control in not backhanding the would-be paladin. Instead he merely stood, tight-lipped and endured the boy's rant.

"If you are quite finished with the show of whatever that was...?"

Bane led the new recruit to a barracks-like building nearby. He spoke in a calm voice as they walked.
"I do not know what you expected of the Isle or of the Temple Order of Paladins of Illuminatus. I am puzzled at your lack of self-confidence. If we did not think you belonged here, if Illuminatus himself did not believe you capable of learning and being molded into a powerful leader for the forces of Light, you would not be here. It's as simple as that. My comment on your physique was merely to acknowledge that we have work to do. I do not expect young boys to show up and instantly be some grand hero out of a child's tale. I did greet you with a handshake and a polite word, as an equal. Perhaps that was a mistake."

"Now. If you're to look the part of a warrior we should get you some proper armor to star practicing with. And of course a practice weapon. Here, let's see."

He picked out a rather bulky suit of mail for Marek to try on. As for a weapon: there were large swords, short swords, lances and hammers. Ranging from a short curved sword to a heavy blade almost as long as Marek was tall.
“Pick your own weapon for now. Something you think you might be comfortable with. It needn’t be a permanent choice -it’s just for practice drills.”

(OOC: What is a scepsis? )

[Guest]

“You aren’t the first to point out I am unfit, and others have been less than polite when doing so.” He said coldly. “There is nothing wrong with my self confidence or the confidence I have in the wisdom of Illuminatus. If I had been lacking in either, I would left this unfriendly place several marks ago.”

Marek glared at the fresh insult the man delivered, implying the handshake had been a mistake. After a long hard look at Bane, he swallowed a retort that would have plunged them to the point of no return. He shook his head and let the matter drop, heaving himself into the armor Bane provided instead.

When beads of perspiration began to form on his forehead, Marek adjusted the armor straps to give him a bit more breathing space. It helped some. However, there was nothing that he could do about the armor’s weight.

He straightened and grabbed a random weapon from the rack. A plain long sword, nothing special about it but that it had been first in a row of blades. He turned to Bane, the tip of his blade pointing to the ground. Bane’s voice had become a background drone. He hardly heard it as he faced the veteran. His knees felt like they could give way any moment and it was all he could do to keep his posture straight. Marek had done his utmost to put up a good front till now, but the constant demands for justification and insults had drawn on every ounce of resolve the young man could muster.

Although Bane had been right that Marek lacked confidence, it was the faith in the Temple Order of Paladins that was rapidly declining to zero rather than his self esteem.

Still, none of that seemed to matter right now.

He had to remain standing, preferably tall and proud if he could help it. And that was a task that demanded too much of his attention to worry over anger or injured pride.

(ooc: scepsis = doubt)

[Guest]

The next several marks were spent in “field exercises.”
“Torture” might have been a more appropriate title for the activities, as Marek’s body was put through a series of challenges. Bane had him making a circuit of the isle at double-time. Ordinarily this would not have been so bad, but the bulky, unfamiliar armor made even normal walking a chore. At the end of the circuit, they wound up by the beach where Marek was forced to keep up with Bane as he ran half again the distance around the village - still wearing his armor and weapons.
After but a few burns of rest, Bane led Marek away from the clear beach and paved pathways and into the densely wooded area outside of the village proper. Several times the young would-be paladin tripped on tricky roots or lost the path as Bane kept up a pace he could not match.

At last - covered with painful bruises and stinging bleeding scrapes, out of breath from the non-stop efforts, clothes ripped beyond repair and covered with sand and mud - Marek found himself once again in the practice area of the courtyard.

Bane lounged on a bench as Marek struggled for the last few steps.
“Well. You made it. Good. You may want to go rest up -and clean up - before your evening lecture. Of course, I’ll expect for you to polish that sorry suit of mail and care for the sword before you head off for any such leisure. I’ll meet you here tomorrow, just after morning services.”

(OOC: Please don’t hate me for this. )

[Guest]

Marek’s valiant attempt to keep up with his mentor was doomed from the start. Staggering under the unaccustomed weight of his armor, the young man fell further and further behind. When he went down for the third time after stepping on a slippery root, Marek lost all trace of his instructor. Sweat poured over his brow in steady rivulets as he clenched his teeth, forced himself to stand and retrieve the weapon that had flown from his grasp when he hit the ground.

His body was worn out long before he reached the practise area. Bane swam in and out of Marek’s vision as he approached, coming to a stumbling halt before the other man. Numb fingers pried at the straps that held his armor together until he gave up and just sank to his knees on the courtyard tiles. He nodded dimly to Bane, managing a ragged “how?” inbetween harsh gasps for breath, referring to the maintenance of armor and sword. He did not possess any jars of grease or other materials required and he hoped fervently that Bane could at least provide him with these.

When he had regained enough strength to take off his armor his muscles protesting at their renewed use. “Tomorrow morningtide” he nodded again, this time more firmly. “I’ll be there.”



OOC: hate ya? never!

[Guest]

OOC:
This thread is officially closed. Congratulations on making it over the first hurdle. I've continued your story in the thread "Finding the Center." Please pardon any assumptions I have made regarding your actions to get you there.

I will edit this post later tonight to include skilling.

*Edit*
Skilled 11-23-04
Resolve +*
New Skills: Etiquette, Armor [Chain Mail], Running