The Hamlet Streets

[Vanitypirate]

Tilly scrunched up, both hands braced against him as he swept her up in his arms. A laugh bubbled over as he kissed and held her, out of surprise and delight.

She was still vaguely aware of the presence of others.

"G-go! Go now!" She laughed, breaking away from him in a single, squirming motion. She gave him a playful shove in an effort to send him on his way, hopefully more spurring than the swat she gave him before, and then made to scurry into the relative safety of the tavern, her eyes peeled on the lookout for Courcy.

[Tilly enters the tavern]

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

He broke away, and wiped a thumb across his lips while one hand flared out in dramatas, bowing at his display of love. Though his eyes never left Tilly, even as she pushed him away.
The Ex-Lord was all chuckles as she squirmed away, he did try and hold onto her, though only so much as to show how much he yearned to have her, as opposed to outright stopping her.
"Hahalright, alright! No need to stoop to violence!" He guffawed, brushing himself off as he straightened and let his head rest on one shoulder.

"Take care of yourself! I'll be back soon!" He started calling out to her as she slipped away and he made his own, backpedalling, retreat.
"I lo-- I look forward to our... Expedition! And Things!" He added, pointing to the closing door before sighing. Taking in a shaky breath, he felt his heart flutter as she was now gone, and he ran a hand through his hair, setting a hand on his hip.

Stress gripped his throat like a vice, and he cleared his throat, his eyes wetted and he bowed his head before turning and making his way to the Abbey. Disshevelement skewing his typically regal and noble appearance evermore...
Gods... how deep is this grave...

//

[Kidney]

Tod moved quickly down the stairs, a smile on his face and excitedness in his heart. He moved quickly as he moved away from the stairs, crossing the courtyard before he saw the man he was quickly about to dine with. He reached out a hand, waving in a near childlike manner. "Blood! I was on my way over, I thought I might get to you early, maybe help set up and cook if need be?"
His grin got smaller as he walked nearly directly up to Blood, "As you can see, I feel we can talk about our issues with the Amulet. Around dinner."

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

He snapped out of his strenuous stupor with a glib sigh and toothy smile; raising a brow at Tod, and chuckling as he mimicked the man's waving hand. Eyeing his arms, imagining the meaning of those tattoos he'd glimpsed in their brief brushing of shoulders and chit-chat. Truly, some part of him resented the man as much as he wanted to seek his aid.
But, regardless; he played around his social dances with practiced ease, sighing again as his shoulders relaxed and a tired, easy demeanour took over his hastened stride.

He slowed his pace, if but only to have some conversation while keeping his momentum.
"Ah! Yes, Hello... Tod." He spoke, laughing lightly at the man's curious mannerisms. It was... inspiring.
"I'm so sorry; but I think I won't be able to making Supper tonight... I'd forgotten to mention: I'm headed out to an expedition!" He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder,to the path what would lead to the ocean.
"To scout some caverns out to flush out darkspawn, it would seem." He mused, sighing with some indifference, resigned to the undoubted crippling fear to come. But, he shrugged again.

"Very sorry; but... Perhaps I can find you? If I ever have the time, it may be better that way so you don't starve yourself outside my bloody door." He nudged the man named Tod in the arm with his elbow, before smoothing out his own simple, flowy, tunic.
Lekalis bounced on the ball of his feet, remembering the little dancey motions of Tilly; it made his smile feel more genuine, if but a little distracted as his eyes drifted down to his own boots, then to the Tavern as he backpedalled on, giving a quick two finger salute, preemptively, to Tod.

[Kidney]

The voice of anger was an opportunistic little bastard.
"Blood!"
Tod followed Blood, his eyes squinted and an eyebrow shot up. "Blood, you can't be serious! You're going beyond the Hamlet? You understand you can die out there right? Horribly!"
His pace was slightly slower, but Tod pushed his slightly bent leg to keep up, keeping pace with the man normally in red. The voice of anger spoke out, "Yes. KILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIMKILLHIM!"
Tod shook his head, "You want to find me! What! What if you don't come back and then at that point in particular time I have to probably get a team together and go get your sorry ass body and it's fucking amu-"
He stopped himself. His face was a look of confusion, a canvas, once together now washed with a single, bright red.
It was now blue.
The voice of sadness now assaulted him, and he grabbed his head. Breath. Just. Breath.
"Blood... I'm sorry..."
He looked up, his eyes wide and brimmed with tears. He squeezed his eyelids together, then opened them.
"Blood, you hold a literal, tangible war asset against whatever evil I've been told lurks past this town."
He focused, the voices no longer spoke as loud as they had been, the cacophony now an out of tune symphony.
"Blood, I can't bring someone back from the land of the dead. And I can't risk that,"
Tod pointed at the general direction of where the Amulet should be on Blood's chest.
"going into the hands of the hellspawn living wherever you're going."
It almost hurt, this wave of intense passion to save the souls inside that amulet, and to save the man he thought might have to be present for their exorcism to be viable.
"I'm not even mad about the dinner. And I'm sorry that I'm now another thorn in your side, focused on your item. I know that it's yours and you can do with it as you wish."
Tod forced his urges downwards, to stop himself from certainties that he might push onto the life of Blood.
"I retract my statement. But you must know, that I can't stop you from going on your expedition, but, I advocate against it heavily."
Tod cringed at his own, pitiful words of mere advice against the embodiment of his enemy, so many souls denied the rest he so readily wanted to give passage to.

"As the only living member of the Order Of The Sacred Script, Blessed by his High Holiness himself, I am powerful. Blood, I can come with you, if need be."

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

Now the man had some of his attention; he'd only just promised that he'd be safe from ne'er dowells, and here, a madman showed his true colors.
Naturally... There was little avoiding such an end with men of the cloth; the Ex-Lord's face, however, fell from its smiling, nigh glib demeanour to somewhere more mellow, as opposed to fretful or angry. It was simply calm, watching, and focused.

His eyes narrowed as the man's haste was gauged, and Lekalis pivoted the strap binding his spear to his back about to jab into Tod's gut. Not so much to knock the wind out of him, a very select amount of force, simply to stop him and hold him at a distance.
"You'll do what you need when and if it comes to. I doubt this amulet is a... a War Asset, persay; dangerous, for sure, but it is mine. No one else will have this... no one can have this." He brought his hand to touch the amulet behind his swaying and loose shirt.

"I thank you for your zeal, and your respect. But do not come at me so, implying threat..." He warned, the haft of the spear trailing up to Tod's chest, tapping it pointedly.
"... If you do, I will strike you down. For better or worse." He warned, quirking his head to one side and shrugging,
"I will not warn you again. You aren't yet a thorn, don't fear coming to talk to me but... Just... Don't come up to me like that, alright?" His serious tone bled into a little chuckle, his smile spreading again as he let his spear swing back into the low hip sheath.

"My roster is full already, and I've need for stealth and agility over litanies and crusades. Perhaps, come the next expedition, I'll call for you. Until then... Don't yell at me, eh?" He shrugged a shoulder and turned away in full; leaving Tod to ascend the hill to the Abbey steps. His heart pounding in his chest as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to sooth himself.

//

[Kidney]

Tod stopped at the base of the stairs.

There it went.

The amulet. The souls. The spirits denied rest.
He looked down.
What had he done?
Tod turned, and walked away.

He crossed the courtyard slowly, and continued past it.
He crossed into the forest, moving past tree trunks until he could barely see the statue standing in the center of the courtyard he so now venomously despised.

He fell among the trees.
It was quick, a trip with his bad leg over an upturned root, landing him face-first into soft mulch and undergrowth tainted by the same darkness that made the monsters Blood went with vigor to fight.

He got up.

Smack.
His knuckles hurt, the skin on two peeling back, blood seeping from the wounds.
Smack.
His left hand now experienced the same pain, and oozing blood.
Smack.
He threw his back against the trunk, sliding down with a thud.

So many souls, denied rest.
So many.

He wept.

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

He's right, you know..., Came that Bear-like voice of the cloth, Lekalis could almost feel the man's strong calloused hands on his shoulders again, smelling of ale and sweat and a brawl.
...You must finish it, before you perish., it insisted; just precisely what 'it' was, was lost even to Lekalis these days.

It was more than just lunacy, more than just arcana... His hand drifted to the amulet sunken 'twixt his chest. Looking on out to the Ancestor's mansion, perched upon that chilly moor and cliff. A chilly mirror to his own past, though nowhere near as warm... It was yet still like a memory come back to visceral life. An abomination of it all. He could almost see his Father's keep, his mother's study, and that apple orchard; his own castle's wall and throne room, or even Constantinople's twin cities roosting on a cliff.

It took... effort, to suppress the memories. And he felt his nose wet and his brow sweat with toil, focussing on the here, the now. On Florence; he needed to talk to her, needed to hear her voice and advice... As silly as it  sometimes was.
For now, it was enough...

... Where, Tilly brought such flustering, bubbling emotions; Florence gave him rest and calm. Tilly was the wind, and Florence the stone, and he was the sea. Affected by both in such tangential ways, yet, he could not resist being so close to either.
How was he to choose? Should he? What realm of judgement would keep him away from yet two women who keep him sane, keep him whole.
It was not like he did not treat them kindly, with love and admiration, equally both...

... Lekalis placed his palm on the door, pushing it open with a huff before slipping inside.
He had to speak with the Crowgazer.

/[Lekalis moves to The Abbey/

[Kidney]

An exorcists life is filled with circumstance, improvisation, habit, and choice. But your oaths, they are certain. Do you swear, to follow these oaths, this day, and all days forward?
"I swear, to follow my oaths this day, and all days forward."
He back was against the tree, his hand lay against the ground, the drying blood sticking the dead leaves and broken twigs to him like padding on his throbbing knuckles.
An exorcist's duty is to return the spirits of the dead to their rightful place. Do you swear to root out these cases, and send all spirits, good and evil, to their rightful places?
"I swear, to send all spirits, good and evil, to their rightful places."
He brushed off the leaves and twigs, their bloodied sides all facing upwards, towards him. A failure. His emotions had gotten control of him. How could he let them?
An exorcist is zealous, but he is respectful. Do you swear to never force an exorcism, but to coerce and convince into allowing a wanted, consensual exorcism of persons and property?
"I swear, to never force an exorcism, but to coerce and convince into allowing a wanted, consensual exorcism of persons and property."
He rose. Pulling off his shirt, grabbing it by the hem and swiping it through the air, the dirt and the leaves flying off of it as he slid it back on. Dirtied, but presentable to a degree. He turned towards the space where he could see the statue.
An exorcist must exert the Light, as a tool and beacon of hope. Do you swear to radiate only good, to force negativity from your mind?
"I swear, to radiate only good, and to force negativity from my mind."

These oaths. He had failed them. His zealousness had led to his outburst. And now, he may have just lost his chance at saving the souls of the damned locked away in that amulet.
The dinner. It was where he was going to tell Blood, his life, his oaths, he was going to coerce him to let the amulet be cleansed.
Now it was all for naught. He had ruined it. No dinner. No truth. Only rage, and stupidity.
His oaths contradicted. He had many, but three today had given him only hardship. So many souls.
He couldn't ignore them. It was impossible.
But, now he knew, Blood was going to never let go of the Amulet. He was never going to be able to save those souls. How many had been lost to oblivion before Tod had arrived here? How many had been drained past repletion? How many Tod?!  HOW MANY?!

He fell to his knees.
He wept.

He looked up, sixty feet from the statue. He was so close to town. His eyes were puffy.
His cheeks stained with post-cry evidence.
An exorcist's duty is to live by his oaths and his craft from his first day to his last day. Do you swear that you will never abandon your duty, your purpose?
"I swear, by The Light and all it's saints, that I will never stray from my purpose. My duty to the people of the world."
Rise, Tod of Stroh. Rise, and receive the blessing from his High Holiness. Take this blessing with you for the rest of your life, take it to the center of all Light, and take pride that you, are an instrument of the Light's will and wrath. You are a true Exorcist.

"I am a true exorcist."
He wiped his tears.
The voices stopped, for once in a long time.
And a Tod smile crept onto a Tod face.
One that hadn't come from a place of awe, or a place of wonder.
But a place of purpose. A place of value.
The Light had given him more of a life than his parents ever could, despite Talia, despite his failure today.

His name was Tod.
He broke through the treeline. He moved up the Abbey stairs. He opened the door with zealous bravery.
I have work to do.
He needed his coat. He needed his focus. He needed his sphere.

[stealthclaw]

Fen's first thought when her shielded eyes found the Hamlet was what an interesting little place. Figures moved about the streets, heading into the various buildings or otherwise lingered about. The young plague doctor raised her head to look toward what was the Sanitarium, and then the Abbey. Not nearly pristine as she would have imagined, however, she was sure that their crews to work on such tall buildings weren't exactly large enough to handle such projects. Alas, at least the buildings were intact. Her home with her old teacher was nothing but a pile of charred rubble now, and she was partly to blame.

The sun had briefly slipped from between the clouds and Fen's head jerked to the side, grunting in annoyance. Her preference to moving about at night made working in the daylight more than difficult, as the light nearly blinded her. She turned just enough to put the sunlight to her back, allowing her to refocus her vision. Her black, patchy robes sucked up the sunlight greedily, warming her sore back. So this was the Hamlet the tattered note had mentioned. She naturally assumed that the attack had passed, or was coming... It was hard to tell. Fen was a little tense having made her way here alone, being picked up by stage coach along the Old Road. Being here in the Hamlet alone was nearly unnerving, as in the past she always had her teacher with her anywhere else they went.

Fen stood alone in the fickle sunlight, close to the statue of a man that had to be of some importance to their little Hamlet. Where was it that she should go first? Would she mingle? Or would she stand out in the open like a fool? Thinking for a moment, she found herself scratching as the side of her black, beaked mask. Guessing that some people would likely be within the Abbey, Fen oriented her body toward it but remained still, taking a deep breath and enjoying the ever faint scent of lavender from inside the beak of her mask. 

[lightningfast]

“It truly is as gloomy as they said,” A slouching man mutters, sitting inside the stagecoach as it rumbles and shakes down the old road. It screeches to a halt towards the center of the town, suddenly braking in such a manner that it causes the man to lurch forward, nearly falling off his seat. He regains his bearings and takes a deep breath, preparing himself mentally for what he was sure would be a harrowing experience. He’d heard many tales about the Darkest Manor, of pigs who walked upon two legs and men driven mad by the horrible sights they’d seen. But he’d also heard tales of miracles, of mysterious magics and grievous wounds instantly healed. This was what truly interested the doctor. Despite his ambitions, he was incredibly nervous.

He presses the door open, carrying a briefcase in his other hand as he steps out onto the cobblestones for the first time, taking in the sight of the decaying hamlet. The dim light shines down upon him, illuminating his raven-black hair, round spectacles, and otherwise ordinary (though slightly-stubbled) face. His long doctor’s coat billowed behind him as a gust of wind blew by, forcing him to readjust his belt so that his garb wouldn’t flap around so freely. The town was not as dilapidated as he had anticipated. Perhaps the locals had been taking advantage of the new arrivals’ hard-earned coin, using the increased commerce to repair and renovate their various enterprises. It mattered not to him, though, for the doctor did not seek religious comfort nor pleasures of the flesh: his sole mission here was to pick up his master’s work where it left off, discovering how one might bend the ancient and arcane forces to heal men in a way that no normal doctor could. "Let's see what this town has in store for Mordecai von Richter..." he says aloud to himself.

[stealthclaw]

Someone remarked somewhere behind her, "Let's see what this town has in store for Mordecai von Richter." Having heard him speak, Fen turned around to see who spoke, noticing the man with the pitch black hair, and those round spectacles. A doctor? She wondered if the man had known her teacher. Probably not, but it was a curious thought. He looked incredibly professional, if a little rough-shaven. A conversation with a man of like talents would probably be wise, but Fen didn't know if she could do it. Though her years of training under her teacher, Gaveston, she had met very few other people. Socialization was far from her strong sound.

The young girl, not even twenty years old yet, turned totally to face him. Fen was uncertain of if it was a wise idea to approach this man, but she would not grow stronger if she did not. Steeling her nerves, the girl approached, her black, patchy robes moving with her every movement.

Stopping just nearby him, she raised a hand in nervous greeting.

"Hello," Fen's soft greeting was muffled by her beaked Plague Doctor mask, the faintly red-tinted lenses that protected her eyes gleaming in the glow of the morning sun. "You are a new arrival here as well, might I presume?" Her voice shook, even though she tried not to let it do so.

[lightningfast]

"Oh, er, pardon me, I was thinking aloud again," Mordecai replies with some surprise in his voice, reaching out to shake the young woman's hand. "Ah, my old mentor used to wear a mask like that sometimes. Kept out the stench, if nothing else." This young woman was almost as nervous to be here as he was... though in truth, this fact made him feel more at ease. "I'm glad to see someone else new here... makes the entire experience a little bit less nerve-wracking."

Taking a deep breath, Mordecai manages a smile. "You are a doctor as well, then? I've traveled the world, mastering my craft and trying to develop new methods for healing wounds and broken bones." The way he said it perhaps romanticized it more than the truth. "That's the short version of it, anyways. Been practicing for... nearly twenty years now, I think. My old master, may he rest in peace, took me in when I was about ten."

"By the way," he adds, "I'm Mordecai. I don't think I ever got your name?"

[stealthclaw]

When Mordecai shook her gloved hand, she inclined her head forward just enough to be noticeable. He had a firm grip, which was more pleasant than it was intimidating or unwelcome. Her teacher had the same kind of grip when he introduced himself, she remembered fondly. At his mention of her mask, she nodded.

"It was not uncommon for my teacher to wear one as well. Said it was better to err on the side of caution, as it was never certain if some illness wasn't airborne." She paused, pulling her arms behind her back in an idle gesture. It made her feel more secure, oddly enough.

"I would say doctor lightly. I have not practiced nearly as long as someone like you. I think it has been just short of five years training under my old teacher. Took me in after my parents sent me away, to escape a deadly illness in my village." Fen trailed off, trying to ignore the pain that welled up thereafter. She would still be training under Gaveston, but his untimely demise had sent her away to seek further teaching and shelter. Her voice shifting at the mention of her village, it was more than likely implied about how something had happened recently to displace her from her new home. Several heartbeats went by before the younger doctor realized that she had not introduced herself properly. Shame on her!

"Oh, I do apologize. I forgot to introduce myself, how inept of me. My socializing skills are not strong, forgive me. My name is Fen."

[lightningfast]

"Aye, true true," Mordecai replies, "Though I've never been sure about the efficacy of those masks for keeping out diseases. Seems to me like you could accomplish the same thing with a wet rag and a few pieces of string. Keeps out the bad air just the same." He laughs to himself for a moment. "Then again, I've always been better with broken bones than mysterious plagues. Surgery is my specialty, you see."

Looking off into the distance, Mordecai scratches his beard. "There's something unpredictable and unstoppable about disease that makes it more... intimidating to me, I must admit," he begins, "I can suture a wound or set a broken bone back in place, but what good is all the skill in the world against a failing liver or a dying heart? What can a doctor do, no matter how skilled, against a sweating sickness or a severe fever, aside from apply some dubious treatment and pray to the Light that it works? And what if it doesn't work? What then? There are more things we don't know than things we do about the human body, Young Fen, and that's what I have come here to research. I've heard fantastical stories about what goes on at the Sanitarium here, miracles of modern medicine, as well as holy rituals being performed that can bring a man back from the brink of death. It is my dream to incorporate all these various secrets into my existing body of research, and become a true master of my craft."