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Post by speakeroftruths on Jun 27, 2020 3:06:20 GMT -8
This. This Andy knew. A teaching that was all too common, both with their first sect and then later with the Sinistra. You do not show your weakness in public. The Flame must remain resolute, untouchable, while in the view of the public. Outside the walls of the faithful, you could not be human, for the clergy was above and beyond simple humanity. In order to lead, to guide the flock, absolute surety has to be shown. Where you cannot hold it back, you find comfort (not distraction, never that) in scripture.
"And so it came to pass that the holy breath," They continued weakly, attempting to clean their sleeve on the leaves of the tree before following. "Made its way throughout the land. It rested in the sacred flames of the holy places, lighting the temples aglow with its radiance. It found home in the hearth-fires of the farmers, blessed be their labors, and the warmth kept them through the cruel winter. It passed by the hiding places of the heathens, and even they found comfort in the shimmering colors. At last, after a month of passage, it found its way to the great stronghold that once stood overlooking Lake Hali. Though it lit the bonfires of the lord's great hall with its dazzling array, it did not warm the liege's heart. A cold man, he ordered the faithful put to death for this insult to his power."
The dirt is unyielding, and every step seems pointless, but on the Inquisitor walks, reciting the old texts as they try to keep pace. The sister leads, and they follow, eyes still on the road, as though they were naught but an adept again, trailing in their master's footsteps. "But the light warned the faithful, and they took to their rafts that very night, paddling across the wine-dark waters of the lake with only the light of the holy breath to guide them. The lord's men attempted to catch them, but having rejected the grace, could not perceive the glow, and the moonless night would not reveal the fleeing pilgrims. And so it was that the miracle protected and ushered the faithful safely from the shores of lost Carcosa.
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Post by rosallora on Jun 27, 2020 6:21:34 GMT -8
[Toustain]
They're like an echo across the sea. She hears them through everything else, all other sounds overlapping. The trodding over of leaves, the sound of small animals darting through the brush, the tap of feet on cobbles that was the people beyond them, the ringing of the church bell to sound some hour; it was an hour she didn't feel and an hour she couldn't remember. She was a soup of awareness.
"And they were reminded of the Flame's holy countenance," she says, and awareness begins to return to her voice. Where there was once numb recitation, there were bumps. She hiccuped through syllables, she rasped against dipthongs, she felt the scripture where she had been ordered not to, "and so they made their way to the final resting place of the slain vestal, and gave their thanks at her tomb. Their faith reignited- reignited. By the holy mark of her death."
She looks up at the abbey. She looks at the dead garden. She remembers the hot days where Roard and her would work side by side, despite the pain he must have felt. The heat must have pressed down on him like a brand beneath all of the wrappings.
"No one..." these are not the correct words. "No flame will flicker with his passing. No colors will be magically altered. No miracles performed. He will not be wrapped in organza. No songs will be sung for his death. No one will come to his body to remember and pray, no one will find their soul illuminated; this is not the death of a martyr, this is not a holy thing, this is not a gentle goodbye, this is not a sweet parting, this is not a just cause, this is not-" she chokes on her words and she is in the kitchen, and she doesn't know when she passed the threshold.
Where was the line into Her safety. Why did it not exist.
"This is not..." she gasps, ugly, snotty, terrible.
[Continuing thread in the abbey]
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Post by EloHim on Jun 29, 2020 21:58:05 GMT -8
[ ? ? ? ]
After a talk and a bath Elorit leaves the coins somewhere Lekalis could see them and leaves the building.
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Post by rosallora on Jul 5, 2020 14:47:31 GMT -8
[Toustain]
She was no good for the abbey right now. Toustain had nothing to do there, not at the moment - not with Grace not understanding, not with the pressure of Andy, not with any of it. She didn't want to be there. She had been absolved, she had been remitted into the Goddess's circle, she doesn't understand why she doesn't feel holy, or whole. There was still a gaping wound in her chest, imperceptible to the naked eye. She doesn't know what to do about it. She doesn't know what to do with herself.
Something that she did have to do was see to her armor. She'd been out a few times, and though the armor was of a veteran vestal, someone far beyond her scope, the years could be seen on it. It needed reinforcing, she needed some help with it. And if she couldn't serve in the abbey, and she couldn't serve in the field, then where could she do anything at all? She was useless.
Toustain knows her leg has to heal. It has to, or she'd... she doesn't know.
She steps into the blacksmith, and tries to put on a smile. Corners up. Eyes bright? She takes a breath and sets her pieces on the counter. You can do this. You've done it all before.
"...Hello?"
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Post by EloHim on Jul 6, 2020 7:49:24 GMT -8
[Volundr]
He was lost in thought sitting behind the counter when Toustain entered the building. Smiling as always.
"Mmh? Oh. Well look who's here! Hi." -he stands up, looking happily at the familiar face.-"Good to see you're alive after all those brigants everywhere. How can I help you?"
He takes a closer look at her. He'd seen her on a crutch but now... Was it still there, or was it no longer necessary thanks to those "light" powers, that priests like to brandish?
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Post by rosallora on Jul 6, 2020 9:12:12 GMT -8
[Toustain]
Her leg isn't feeling great - in her haste to leave the abbey she'd forgotten all about the crutch that had helped her get around. "Hi. I need to have these repaired, and reinforced." She pats the cuirass and faulds that were set on the countertop. "Even if I won't be going out anytime soon." Volundr looked like how she remembered him. Kind of sooty, a bit askew, but with bright eyes and an expression that spoke of searching for some kind of evidence. Against her? She hopes not.
She shouldn't be thinking about that, though. Don't think about them, the people outside of the immediate scope of yourself. Be polite, kind but not good.
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Post by EloHim on Jul 6, 2020 17:16:54 GMT -8
[Volundr]
"...Okay, lets see what we have here."- She felt...odd. He didn't know any other word fitting for now. Usually she was cheery...cheerier. Was it the leg? Or something that bastard Darrio said to her?
Maybe she just wasnt in the mood? Some...female problems? Why the Hel he was even assuming that something was wrong?
He needs to focus on the armor for now. Work, work, concentrate on work. He assesses the damage to the best of his ability, since that was what he was going to deal with first and foremost.
Which reminded him...
"By the by, Toast, since you're always busy around town, would you say you know most folks around here?"- he asks her,whilst checking out the faulds, to see if something needed to be done about those.
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Post by rosallora on Jul 6, 2020 18:45:59 GMT -8
[Toustain]
She watches as he begins his assessment. She'd usually be happy to stay and chat, but she feels like she shouldn't. Like it'd be a bad idea, inviting the wrong kind of interaction (what was the right kind of interaction? Was there one that wasn't fraught, that she could do without guilt?) but before she can turn and leave, he asks his question instead. She pauses, leaning against the counter to take weight off of her bad leg. She should have grabbed her crutch - stupid, stupid vestal.
"...I would say I know a number of them, especially in the poorer quarter." The needy were hard to coax into conversation, but repeat visits had made it easier. "Why?"
The faulds' straps needed replacing, and their overall look was used. In need of polish. The cuirass was dented in a few places, needing hammering to take back the blows it'd sustained from a few arrows that had sought out her flesh. No lacerations, but bumps that would require some attention in order to work out.
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Post by EloHim on Jul 7, 2020 9:03:17 GMT -8
[Volundr]
He appraises the armor but for now sees no need to break the line of conversation. He'll tell her the price afterwards.
"Well, ever since that attack we had some of our usual clientele coming to get their weapons and armor repaired. Like you. But my boss noticed that one of his more...what's the word... old clients, i guess... Didn't appear and it's been awhile since he last saw him. So I was wondering if you might know what became of him." - he pauses for a moment, thinking on how to best describe him when the memory hits him in the head.
"Come to think of it, yeah, you definitely know him. You told me about him once. Roard, leper in a wooden mask. He used to come here for his armor repairs."
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Post by rosallora on Jul 7, 2020 9:29:06 GMT -8
[Toustain]
She listens along politely, nodding. And she tilts her head, wondering about it. Who could-
His name sinks into her like a claw headed straight into the gut. She presses an exhale from her chest, managing to keep herself upright and braced against the counter. "Roard..." she manages. She looks sick. "I'm sorry to... to say that he's. Passed on."
She swallows.
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Post by EloHim on Jul 8, 2020 9:52:52 GMT -8
[Volundr]
He falls silent for a moment, contemplating the information given...and the reaction. The too familiar reaction, telling him that its that much worse than just the death of a guy you know.
He slowly walks around the counter, walks up to Toast and puts his hand on her shoulder gently.
"And I'm sorry for your loss."- he says. One of the few occasions during which he could allow himself that word.-"I won't ask how you're feeling, cause, well, it's written on your face. How long has it been since he died?"
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Post by rosallora on Jul 8, 2020 10:50:37 GMT -8
[Toustain]
It's like impending doom, watching the man walk around the counter and closer to her. She can feel it all slowing, and yet she was helpless to stop it. His hand extends, it rests on her shoulder - she cringes, her eyes sting, she is still bracing against the counter and the most she can do to stop it is to hunch herself away, but it isn't enough to break contact.
His words are coming through a soup. How long...?
"Yesterday," she murmurs.
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Post by EloHim on Jul 9, 2020 7:35:45 GMT -8
[Volundr]
"Oh... And you saw it happen...right before your eyes."- it wasn't a question. Didn't sound like it either. There is a hard look on viking's face.-"Did you have a chance to talk about it with someone?...Did you even have a moment to grieve?"- he carefully observes her reaction. For him right now it was like looking in a mirror...mirror of the past. He needs to be careful. Very very careful. Else it will all go the same way it did back then.
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Post by rosallora on Jul 9, 2020 7:48:33 GMT -8
[Toustain]
Was she so easily read? Yes. Yes, of course she was. Weak, unable to keep one bit of information to herself. He can see her. He sees right through her. He can see the twisted, ugly thing that was inside her. No, not inside. That was her. That consumed her. That was burning into her back, that forced her to contort her face into a horrible, sad, angry scowl.
"I... I shouldn't..." she shouldn't. She couldn't. "I can't feel like this."
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Post by EloHim on Jul 9, 2020 11:36:58 GMT -8
[Volundr]
"Shouldn't feel...What?!"- he was perturbed by what he heard coming from her.- "Okay. We definitely need to talk about it. Not here though. Come." - he throws her hand over his shoulder (from whichever side had a bad leg) so she might walk easier, but he didn't give her an option of backing out. He could already see how bad it could go for her if she would be left alone.
“Harold! Take the counter! No questions. Please.” -he tells to the man sitting inside the forge, doing practically nothing, since all orders for that day have already been handled. The fire was low, so the temperature was already closer to that of the previous room.
“Oh!Ok,sure. Light be with you, sister.”- Harold, a man of many virtues and misgivings, steps away, allowing them to pass, as he walks to the counter and sits down on the chair that was occupied by Vol a few minutes ago.
He sits the priestess down on the nearest stool and pulls himself one, sitting right opposite of her.
“Now. What is it that you shouldn't feel, Toustain? I beg you to explain, no matter how hard it’s going to be. Treat it as a confessional if you’d like, as what you say here is unlikely to leave this room..”
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