FangedSmile
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Post by FangedSmile on Mar 5, 2006 23:09:40 GMT -6
Virose frowned at Alkesh's retreating figure. That lizard was more observant than he let on... or maybe he truly was that innocent.
"Yes," he agreed, with an attempt to mimic the upbeat tone. "There's enough left to hire someone who actually cares about your quest."
Alkesh looked back at him with only a brief smile to acknowledge that he'd heard the comment. "You never said," he called back. "Why don't you believe me when I say you are the best candidate?" The responding silence was disheartening and the glare Alkesh could feel on the back of his neck told him not to press the issue.
He walked quickly, feeling slightly embarrassed as people hurried out of his way. He did not mean to scare them, so he pulled up his hood and forced himself to slow down. A hard task as his arm throbbed. It was taking its time healing and he began to wonder just how long it had been broken for so much pain to have built up like this. It didn't feel like the pain of a simple break.
He thought for a moment to ask but did not want to start a fight. Already he found himself looking over his shoulder constantly and noticed that Virose was content to plod along far behind. He even walked slower if Alkesh slowed down to try and let him catch up.
"Esh," prayed Alkesh, with his eyes still on the hero. "Please... guide me in working together with my new friend."
As he spoke, however, the challenging smirk the hero threw back at him suggested he might be asking for quite a big favor.
Alkesh took a breath and forced himself to smile in reply, and continue onward. He maintained that smile even as his stomach started to growl, his legs begged for mercy, and the bottom of his tail dragged on the ground. The town was far behind them now- though not as far as it should have been. The Temple of Esh was only a faint outline in the distance. It felt decades away.
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Sword_of_Aeons
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Post by Sword_of_Aeons on Mar 5, 2006 23:12:03 GMT -6
Instead of keeping up his monologue of everything that he should appreciate, his mind found regrets. He regretted not procuring lunch before they set off. He regretted not hiring a cart to take them to the temple. He regretted leaving the town so immediately. He regretted that he had dried meat with him, but didn't feel right eating it because Virose turned it down when he'd offered, even though his stomach was growling just as loud.
With sore feet, Alkesh regretted not stopping to rest. Of course, he could have reached the temple much faster without Virose.
The hero kept wandering off their set course to try and convince Alkesh to go to neighboring towns and interview other mercenaries; forcing Alkesh to stop and endure an argument. Decided he preferred glaring silence, Alkesh proposed an answer-for-answer deal, starting with why Virose was so convinced that he was the wrong choice.
Without anyone around to overhear this time, however, Alkesh received a response.
"Because I'm your worst choice. I didn't break my arm winning a fight." Virose shook his head dismissively. "How did you search for candidates?"
He was playing along? Alkesh brightened. "We had our missionaries spread the word and request aid from different guilds and training centers," he began, delighted by the fact that Virose was now following along without stopping. "I was afraid people would stop showing up when Esh did not accept anyone who showed up, though that seemed to inspire others to try out. Isn't that strange? Anyway, that's how-"
"-Not really," Virose interrupted, sharply. "Was there one named Shi'ite?"
Alkesh pursed his lips. "Yes," he answered simply. "Why are you upset about one lost fight-"
"It's been more than one," Virose interrupted again. "Why didn't you hire Shi'ite? He graduated top of his class three years before me, has never failed a mission, and is wealthy enough that he'd work for free. Plus, his mentor goes everywhere with him. That would have given you two highly skilled professionals who actually want to help you!"
Alkesh held back his first instinctive reply and refocused his mind. He felt reasonably sure that Virose was interrupting him as a way to cheat at their quid-pro-quo arrangement. "Yes," he replied again, patiently. "But they did not impress me or Esh."
"I don't accept that," Virose protested. "Does Esh know they have never failed a mission or lot a fight?"
Alkesh paused and turned around to look at his 'employee,' feeling only a small flicker of irritation when the hero halted immediately and maintained the large span of distance between them.
"Yes," Alkesh sighed. "They told us, multiple times. I asked if either man would die to save someone else. Shi'ite replied with a polished speech about how it was the creed of all heroes to stand in defense of the defenseless, and his mentor said they would both lay down their lives for their country."
"You were begging for help and they not only offered, but they were also willing to jump through hoops," Virose grumbled spitefully. "And their answers still weren't good enough?"
"No," said Alkesh. His tongue flickering in and out of his mouth. "I asked if they would die for one person."
Virose's expression darkened from bitter to hateful. "To see if they'd die for you," he guessed with a sigh.
"No," clarified Alkesh, with a peaceful smile. "I don't like the idea of someone dying for me, and I'm not sure anyone truly knows what they would do when faced with the decision of saving someone at the cost of their own life. I just wanted to hear their responses."
"And they never answered your specific question," the hero shook his head and let out a breath.
Alkesh blinked. "They answered eventually," he explained. "Like most others, they each said they would die for another person."
"So... What's your problem?"
Alkesh flicked his tongue in and out of his mouth and blinked. "I didn't believe them."
"You gonna ask me that question, then?"
Alkesh pondered for a moment and scrutinized the hero standing before him. After a short while, he shook his head. "No, I don't feel the need."
"Why not?" groaned Virose, his eyes shut against a headache.
"Hmm," Alkesh cleared his throat as a sense of triumph filled him. Patience, after all, was a virtue for a reason. "...Before I answer that... I'd like to catch up."
Virose opened his eyes and his stare changed from confusion to distrust.
"I now have answered..." Alkesh stared at the sky and reevaluated their exchange, clicking his tongue at each question he remembered. "Five questions. So let's see..."
He noticed the hero shifted the supplied he was carrying and held up his hand with his palm facing away from Alkesh, and all five fingers spread out as if to tell the lizard that he intended to count. Alkesh was not bothered by this, however, because he already had his questions in mind.
"Beyond losing a few fights, why did you say you are my worst choice?" he asked as Virose folded his thumb across his palm to symbolize four questions left. Before he could answer with his traditional vagueness, Alkesh continued and counted down the questions on his own clawed fingers. "Can you elaborate on that by providing a few examples? What are those examples? How, without repeating a previous answer, can you be sure you do not have the skills required when you do not know what my mission is? Also, without repeating a previous answer, what exactly have you done in your life to merit so much self-doubt?"
When he looked up, Virose seemed to have miscounted for he still had one finger raised on his hand- Mmph. He frowned at the hero and felt a hint of anger when he realized the more disappointment he showcased, the more smugness he saw in the hero's eyes. But Alkesh was not so easy to anger and quickly changed his opinion. The gesture was rude but could be considered humorous. Besides, the more he laughed at the event, the less Virose smirked.
"Oh! And I am not asking you the questions I asked the others because Esh has already given you her blessing." He met Virose's gaze and smiled. "That's six, so-"
"The roads aren't safe at night," Virose interjected in a bland droll, dropping his hand to his side. "You should keep walking."
Alkesh's smile faded. The sense of accomplishment he had felt began to shrink almost as quickly as it had grown, and he wondered if his actions had further damaged their relationship. "Esh has faith in you," Alkesh stated, trying to placate the angry hero. "A few lost fights do not mean anything in the long run. What have you done that makes you doubt your-" his voice faltered as Virose narrowed his eyes and glared a warning he would never have expected from a hero.
It was very evident was that Virose was done talking. So, the journey continued in silence.
When the graceful twists of the birch gates came into view with the vibrant blue banners caught in the dwindling twilight glow, Alkesh had never felt so relieved. From stretching meditation gardens and decorative fountains used for background noise and reflection, to the serene visages of the goddess Esh, the Order of Balance through Grace temple was an oasis of peace and tranquility mixed with prosperity and benevolence.
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FangedSmile
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Post by FangedSmile on Mar 5, 2006 23:24:38 GMT -6
Virose stopped at the gate and took in the elegance of the steam-bent wood. The overall artistic effect was lost on him, but he did notice that there were no spots wide enough for him to squeeze through if the gates were shut. He looked quickly to the walls on either side. They were made up of stacked rocks and curved around the grounds. It wouldn't be too hard to climb the wall, though he could not see the top and was unsure if there were any spikes. The top of the gates themselves sloped and twisted, but there wasn't anything there that would really prevent someone from climbing over.
Climb the wall, go over the gate, no loose rocks at the bottom so it's an easy drop to freedom.
With that brief inspection complete, Virose walked reluctantly onward - as seemed to be the theme of the day.
Sanor had taught him not to gawk at new places, as it implied naivety, though as Virose looked out upon the temple grounds he found himself in awe. Nothing he saw was what he had expected. The last temple he had been in had been the temple of Luvya, the god/goddess duo of past and present- responsible for Déjà vu, being awake staring at the ceiling at 3am with petty memories from embarrassing childhood moments, and thinking up a comeback AFTER a fight was over; as well as agreeing to something and later regretting it, making a purchase that seems silly once it arrives at one's home, and falling in love. It was an open-column design with stone murals depicting the two deities, and was roughly the size of a tavern.
The Temple of Esh, in comparison, rivaled the Tai'Lu Academy in size and pure majesty. Everything about the temple made him feel small and out of place. It was clean, but in a different way than the academy had been. There, the grounds were swept and polished, but every wall had something on it and the floors each had a rug. There were chairs with patterned fabrics, desks, books, and tables. There were... things. Either a weapon or book, a mop, a broom, a wand or a staff... objects with clear purposes. No one ever entered a room and thought "I have nothing to do." Even the people had been different. There were instructors, clients, graduates, apprentice, mentors, and students. All dressed differently and easily identifiable. You knew exactly who was in each room and a general idea as to why they were there.
Here... There was a lot of empty space. Not 'you have room to move around here' space. More like walkways around fountains, low walls covered in delicate-looking plants that prevented you from jumping over the walls or placing things on them, and gardens. Plant gardens, rock gardens, and square pits of rocks and sand that he assumed were some type of garden. The purpose of the sand pits, however, was completely beyond him. There was a person standing on a large rock within one of the sand gardens. It was easy to see what she was doing- making patterns in the sand with a large broom that had big, widely-spaced teeth. The purpose, on the other hand, was less obvious.
There was an open square beneath a large willow tree, but it was currently occupied by a group of about fifteen people standing in rows and moving languidly through a series of what resembled combat poses. Though, they didn't seem to be practicing the poses as they performed them way too slowly and their eyes were closed.
Virose saw similar coordination in the other people who were on the grounds. They all moved with this slow, measured pace. Most seemed to have a purpose and to be following a ritual, just not one he could understand.
A bell tolled and the gates they had come through were closed by four people who had been walking towards the gates from different directions. They had not been waiting for the bell, nor did they speed up or slow down, but their timing was perfect. They each arrived at exactly the same time and glided into set locations. Two of them grabbed the gates and others operated cranks on the walls. The ones who grabbed the gates pulled them shut after the two at the cranks turned those cranks and the gates rose a few inches off the ground.
When the gates were shut by the pullers, the crank operators lowered the gates once more. Finished, they turned and stared, and Virose realized the other people had done the same. He looked from person to person, wishing he had not been so distracted by the gates that he had missed the moment when he had become surrounded.. His attention was caught on one of the blue banners as it darkened slowly, from the corners, then brightened as the smoke-damaged cloth became fuel for a fire. The fabric dropped as it lost its tenuous hold upon the wall, alighting the tree beneath it. Branches snapped under the sudden weight. The grounds began to burn. He could hear people screaming.
But when he blinked, the fire was gone. The people offered smiles and bowed their heads.
Virose felt a cold sweat on his forehead and found himself walking close to Alkesh- the only person he knew.
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Sword_of_Aeons
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Post by Sword_of_Aeons on Mar 5, 2006 23:30:30 GMT -6
Alkesh was surprised at Virose's sudden closeness, seeing as the last seven hours had included the man making every effort to stay as far away as he could. He half-expected some sarcastic comment, but when he looked at the hero he saw a pale, bloodless face and enormous eyes.
"Virose?"
The hero ignored him, but he did at least blink and Alkesh was happy to see at least some of the color return to his skin. Most people visited the temple to pray or receive healing. The only ones who seemed nervous were usually guilty of something, and feeling poorly about past discretion. Virose looked like a lost puppy.
Alkesh noticed the stares of the people they passed, and the crowing crowd they were attracting. He figured everyone was curious about the hero he had gone to retrieve, but was not in the mood to stop and make introductions. That hero, after all, was less than cordial.
As they entered the inner sanctum, Virose halted at the threshold, as if expecting the door to swing shut and the occupants of the room to descend upon him with murderous rage. Annoyed, Alkesh continued up a flight of stairs and exchanged quiet words with Cillesh, one of the other members of the Order. Cillesh, who had his father's bull-like build and his mother's more gentle, human face, smiled, and made his way towards Virose.
"Ah, honored brother in the Goddess! This way, please. We have food and lodgings for you, at the request of Priest Alkesh. Come!" He ignored the fact that Virose stepped backwards in response to being invited inside.
The other members of the Order noticed this and looked to Alkesh.
"He's... somewhat reluctant," Alkesh explained, softly. A few of them looked concerned, while others nodded and a one or two simply continued to stare. Two charges who were still earning their way in the temple relieved Virose of the supplies he was carrying, as Cillesh wrapped an arm around Virose's shoulders and escorted him away from the doorway he had seemed content to live in.
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FangedSmile
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Post by FangedSmile on Mar 5, 2006 23:37:13 GMT -6
Virose tensed when the supplies were taken from him.
Get a grip, he lectured himself, though having the overly friendly man pull him away from the only escape route was making it hard for him to actually follow his own advice.
His frantic gaze caught Alkesh, and then traveled across the others- who he assumed were also priests. Their pitying stares were enough for him to gather some control over himself and walk along next to the bull-like man, instead of being dragged along beside him.
The promise of food was welcome... the promise of a drink would have been better.
He was led through another set of doors off to the left of the large staircase Alkesh had climbed, down a hallway, and into a larger room with vaulted ceilings where he was relieved to see only a handful of men and women finishing dinner, a healthily plump woman that was serving as waitress, and a wolfhound that shot to its feet in her defense.
Virose was twice as relieved when the man escorting him released his vice-like grip and took a step away. The man introduced the woman as Rita, and told her Virose was a guest of the temple, on behalf of Priest Alkesh, and to treat him hospitably.
The woman replied with an "Of course, brother," that only slightly implied she didn't need to be instructed on how to treat someone. This went ignored by the man who smiled brightly and made Virose both happier and calmer by leaving the room.
"So," said Rita, when the door shut behind the man. "They drag in a stray?"
"Something like that." Virose stared at the door to make sure it did not snap shut and lock. He could hear the dog approaching, so he turned to catch its eye and inspire trusts. The giant beast paused, then rushed forward to rub against him. Virose pet the hound on its massive head. In response to the woman, he said, "Mercenary."
Rita shook her head at her would-be guard dog and crossed her arms. She was still for a moment, letting Virose look around the room and pet the dog that usually spent the first ten minutes of any encounter pushing itself against her or lurking around under the tables. Seemed like both the dog and the legionnaire needed each other's company for the time being.
She finished her rounds with the other patrons and cleared off a space for Virose to sit. It was pretty obvious that he wasn't comfortable, and she felt no reason to push him. Though, hearing his stomach growl from across the room did encourage her to make the first move.
"Well," she called, drawing Virose's attention away from the large, balanced scale etched into the wall. "For hospitality we have food- and drink if you behave yourself."
"What counts as behaving myself?" Virose quipped back, staring at her with half-lidded eyes and a smirk. "I said 'mercenary' not 'brigand'."
Rita raised her hands as if to call for a truce. "I used to be a bar maiden before I answered the call," she explained as an apology. "You the traditional meat and potatoes type? Or picky and want something fancier like a seared fish with a vinegar and lemon sauce? And just in case you're one of those 'give me the leg of the largest animals you have' types, you should know we ran out of legs last night, though we do have some gibbets left if you fancy them."
Virose shrugged. "Potatoes sound good, and fruit, if you've got any."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Potatoes and fruit... ?"
"And ale," he replied with a nod. "Or mead or wine or beer or-"
Rita rolled her eyes and smirked back at him. "Yeah, yeah. I got that part. You don't want any meat?"
"Not really," Virose shrugged, though he could predict the longer conversation they were about to have. Thankfully, she didn't ask what the hell was wrong with him. Instead, she laughed.
"Just caught me off guard, you not asking for anything for much." She put her hands on her hips and stared at him ruefully. "You're not just going to leave when my back is turned, are you?"
Virose offered a shallow smile in return, though he threw in a wink in case the smile wasn't enough of a reply to her good humor. "Not without that drink."
She shook her head and laughed again. "Coming right up, sir."
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Sword_of_Aeons
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Post by Sword_of_Aeons on Mar 5, 2006 23:38:56 GMT -6
"And he kept that up all the way here," Alkesh finished, suddenly aware that his crest had risen and he was rubbing his left arm. Father Jiresh traced a thumb across his mouth and stroked his beard as he listened. His brow was furrowed, but he did not look as worried as the other priests.
"Priest Alkesh," he said. "Do you remember what happened when I first met you?"
Alkesh nodded and sunk lower in his seat. "You turned me away," he admitted.
Father Jiresh nodded back without even a trace of embarrassment. "I tried" he agreed, wryly. "There I was, treating a man who had gotten his fingers bitten off for some unknown slight against a s'skarran he was in business with, on a volcano than I never imagined being on, suddenly face-to-face with a s'skarran child who tells me he wants to 'do that,' and gestures towards the man's hand." He laughed at the memory. "I had no idea if you meant you wanted to bite off more fingers or heal people.
"I wasn't prepared to deal with s'skarran so I screamed at you to go away. I was only out there because the man's companions ran into my caravan, screaming for help. I was shocked, but could not leave the injured man- who chose to pass out at that moment. I only had the use of one hand, was in immense pain, and completely sure something was going to eat me." He looked up to the heavens in dismay, to the amusement of the Order. "And you, without being asked and while still visibly upset, helped."
Father Jirresh stared at his hands but saw them as they'd been twenty years ago. "Alkesh, though I was grateful for your help, I would have never have agreed to come back for you if not for the fact that I realized you had been serious. You weren't looking to be special, you wanted to help in any way possible. I was stubborn. I ignored it until an adventurer came to me and showed me a s'skarran blade that he said had been given to him by a child in exchange for locating a priest of Esh."
Father Jirresh smiled in that way that crinkled his face and let the wrinkles tell tales of a life full of emotion. "I told him I was the one and his quest was over. He says 'no.' He didn't track me down to help, he did it because he wanted to hear the story. I told him what he was so interested in hearing. He laughed. Said that I shouldn't feel obligated to keep my word. After all, it wasn't like I could turn a man-eater into a priest. ... Remember how I am stubborn? I took you on as a challenge- an experiment, to prove Esh made all things possible." He shook his head. "You trusted a man you should never have trusted, and learned to trust my goddess."
Alkesh felt flushed at the praise and bowed his head humbly.
Father Jiresh, however, smiled thoughtfully and met Alkesh's eye. "You are Esh's favorite, Alkesh. There was no luck involved. It was as it always should have been."
"You're a stronger man than I, because you didn't smack our hero for being a pain in the ass," chided the newer priest, Witner.
Father Jiresh stared disapprovingly at the newer priest and reminded him to gain control over his thoughts, though many in the room snickered.
Alkesh, however, frowned. He did not feel bad about his actions towards Virose, and was pleased with his self-control. The problem was that, while he could control himself, he could not control the reluctant hero.
"Problem?" Asked Cilesh.
"I am concerned about the oath," he admitted. "I don't know anything about it and, to be honest, I am afraid that Virose will sneak off during the night. He's made it clear that he does not want to help me." Alkesh sighed and felt his enthusiasm fade.
"Do you know why he is so resistant?" Asked Father Jirresh.
Alkesh shook his head. "He told me he was my worst choice, but refuses to go into further detail beyond the fact that he has lost a few fights."
"You think there is more to it than that?"
Alkesh nodded reluctantly. "I am sure."
Cillesh nodded simply. "We'll have to ask him then."
"He won't answer," Alkesh argued. "Every time I ask, he gets angry. The last time I asked, he stared at me with more hatred than when he'd had a blade to my throat."
Cillesh smiled in a way that was not entirely pure, but that radiated confidence. He had already been an adult when he came to the Temple, and Alkesh had always found him to be... resourceful. His smile now set the lizard's mind at ease. Father Jirresh stared at him in a calculated way, then stood.
"We all have duties to attend to, and Alkesh has need of a good meal and some time to meditate. Let us reconvene in two hours."
"If this hero of ours is still here," muttered Witner.
Cillesh, however, only smiled wider. "Leave that to Rita and myself," he replied "It's our duty to assure our guests are well looked after."
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FangedSmile
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Post by FangedSmile on Mar 10, 2006 15:32:07 GMT -6
Virose was on his third mug of ale and second plate of food. He tried to hold back from taking too much of the food and drink offered but had arrived starving and Rita was quick to place more in front of him and insist it was no trouble.
She kept up a lively atmosphere and created a sense of warmth that had little to do with the fire. Her wolfhound sat with its head on the table and thumped its tail against the floor whenever Virose paid it any attention.
Rita appeared with a plate of meat scraps for the dog, which she set down on the rug next to the fireplace. "Zudo, dinner!" She called.
The hound began to drool but stayed where he was until Virose nodded at him. Rita raised her eyebrows as the dog bounded forward to eat as if he had never been fed before. She then traveled to Virose's table with a jug of ale and another mug.
"Been a busy week," she breathed as she plopped down into the seat across from him. Her focus landed on Virose's empty glass, and then her own. Hesitating only a moment, Virose slid his cup towards her and she filled it with an ,"Atta boy!"
She then made a toast to Esh, which Virose was only partially aware of because he heard someone enter the room and glanced back to check. He snapped his attention back to her as she tapped her cup against his and drank. Virose took a sip, but Rita drained her cup and smacked it back down on the table. She noticed his stare and responded with a nod towards his full drink. "It's more fun to join in than to judge, you know."
"Trying to get me drunk?" he asked.
She rolled her eyes with the same playful attitude he had come to expect from her. "You some kind of lightweight?"
"Just cautious in the house of our employers," he replied, with a note of irony at the word 'employers.'
Rita laughed. "I am a volunteer for Esh," she clarified. "And trust me, curing hangovers alone could keep this place running for centuries. That's the first thing new priests learn how to do. They won't mind if we help ourselves."
"... Esh has her priests learn to heal people by curing hangovers so the volunteers have an excuse to drink more?"
Rita raised her glass in another toast. "To Esh, and her sense of humor!"
They drank deeply in salute, then Rita refilled his mug and looked up with a sudden alertness. "... Is he?" she asked with dread.
"Yeah," Virose replied, keeping his eyes on his mug as he brought it to his lips.
"For the love of..." Rita stood and marched over to her hound. The dog looked at her as it continued chewing on the table leg and thumped its tail happily. "Oy! Quit that!" she lectured. The other occupants of the room ignored the scene like it was a regular occurrence.
To keep his new friend out of trouble, Virose whistled quietly. The dog released the table leg and bounded happily over in response. Rita watched this and stood akimbo, the disgust evident in her features as she stared at her beast. "That an elf thing?" She questioned accusingly as she returned to their table.
"Oh, yeah," drawled Virose, rubbing the dog's face. "I said 'merc' didn't I?"
Rita nodded and tapped her neck before refilling his cup from the pitcher she had brought over. "You got the branding."
Virose snorted and snapped his fingers. The dog sat obediently and seemed proud to have done so. "They mark you at graduation," he intoned. "I'm just an animal trainer these days."
Rita shook her head dismissively. "And I'm just a waitress," she teased. "We drinkin' or complainin'?"
Virose felt a laugh within his chest, though all that came out was a rush of air that brought a smirk along with it. He reached over and tapped her empty cup with his. "You tell me."
She smiled and filled their mugs. "Here's to..." she raised her drink and searched for something clever to say, before giving up and shrugging. "Pets. They warm our hearts... and eat our furniture."
"That was terrible," Virose chastised her.
"Says the dog whisperer," she teased in return. "Some of us don't have magic, you know."
Virose rolled his eyes. "If you want him to stop chewing on tables, keep him busy and give him something else to chew on," he advised, taking hold of his drink. "It's not magic."
Rita watched him drain his cup. "That advice free?" she teased.
"No," he replied with a smirk and a glance towards his empty glass. Rita laughed but placed her hands back on her hips instead of on the jug.
"Good," she smirked back, with her eyes gliding over his empty plate and halting on the pitcher as if to imply the number of refills he'd been provided. "Then we're even."
Virose grinned, liking the idea of being even. Though, as he surveyed the table, he frowned. "I think you overestimate how much I get paid."
"Figure it's gotta be decent, or you'd just stick to the hero shtick," she replied playfully.
"Says the volunteer," teased Virose, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table.
Rita leaned forward to mirror his pose. "I live here, I am given clothes and necessities, and I can take time off when I want." She picked up her cup. "Plus, there are great perks."
Virose tipped his head forward in salute. "Sounds great. Need a dog trainer?"
Rita laughed and looked over at the temple members to make sure they were well. Satisfied, she returned her attention to the hero. "Don't patronize me. I know you hero types get tons of free rides."
"Ah, but you see..." Virose lowered his voice and grinned conspiratorially at her. "I am a terrible hero."
Rita grinned back but narrowed her eyes. "Come off it. You graduated from that fancy merc school, right? You can't be that bad." She sat up straight and crossed her arms.
"They train us, sure," Virose agreed with a shrug. "But you know that moment where you are up against the wall and it is time to dig deep and meet the challenge with every single thing you've got?"
"Yeah," she replied and dropped her gaze to the table.
Virose's tone lifted as if to make a joke, though he didn't seem to have the energy to keep that up all the way through his reply. "Well, I failed mine. That's the reason Sanor isn't around anymore."
Rita leaned forward again and shrugged. "You that important then?" she asked. "To make a legendary champion disappear?"
"I was," Virose replied and something about the way he spoke took all pride from the words and filled the empty space with guilt. He looked back down at the table as his eyes became unfocused. "Until I wasn't."
Rita nodded at him as Cillesh entered and Virose failed to notice the door opening and closing for the first time that evening. His head felt heavy in some ways but light in others.
"Don't be vague," Rita complained, smacking him on the arm. "Vague is for attention whores. What exactly did you do?"
Virose took a deep breath, though the extra air did not bring any extra energy with it. The world around him blurred like he was losing the ability to focus on it. When he spoke, he did so as if narrating his life from outside of it. "I... I let an entire... town... burn... and..."
"I don't get it," Rita pushed, speaking to Virose even though she was looking at Cillesh. He had stopped and nodded back at her. "What town?"
Virose's jaw tightened like he was staring down a memory he could not defeat. The wolfhound nuzzled against his leg and began to whimper, then laid its head in his lap and stared up at him.
Rita watched the dog and then shook her head. "Know what?" She asked brightly. "Don't worry about it."
"Hmmm?" He did not look up at her when replying this time, nor move to pet the hound. He looked like a marionette dangling by a string.
"Yeah... it's alright." She confirmed slowly. Her eyes slid to the few remaining patrons, pleased to see they were still minding their own business. "Mostly," she intoned in a low murmur. "Because you are going to be unconscious soon. But don't worry about that. You'll be fine."
As if her words were a pair of scissors, the invisible string was cut. Virose collapsed forward, dropping his head onto his arms, and was gone.
"Aw, that's a shame," said Rita, as Cillesh reached the table and sat down.
"Indeed," he replied lightly, watching the hero for any sign of consciousness. Satisfied, he folded his hands upon the table. "Forget to cut him off?"
"No," she smiled. "But I suspect that mead was tampered with."
"Oh?" he replied lazily. "Good thing you didn't drink any."
Rita poured her full glass back into the pitcher and stood. "I better get rid of it before anyone else drinks it."
"A good idea, to be on the safe side," said Cillesh, though his tone did not mirror the agreement represented in the words. Rita hesitated and then smiled.
"You know, my ol' na'an used to say that the best remedy was a hair of the dog that bit you." She looked at him to make sure he knew they were on the same page. "Might give him some more in a couple hours."
"I've heard that remedy," Cillesh replied smoothly. "While you're in the kitchen, can you bring some coffee?"
Rita nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Her wolf hound whining loudly as it followed. It still complained as she returned with a hot metal jug wrapped securely in thick cloth.
"Forget to feed him?" Cillesh guessed.
"They're friends," she explained, with a nod at Virose as she and handed Cillesh the coffee. The hound circled around to Virose and pulled at his coat, whining louder.
"Honestly, Zudo," Rita lectured. "You take me for a monster? He's fine."
Zudo pulled again and Rita swiped at him with a cloth, though all he did was shut his eyes and let the cloth flail over him. The next time he pulled, it was with enough gusto that Cillesh had to grab the hero to keep him from falling to the floor.
"How much did you give him?"
"You too?!" she fumed, though she covered her anger well when the other patrons looked over. "Get you lot another round?" she asked them cheerfully. They declined and departed- some to finish evening chores and prayer before bed, others to start their night shift.
Cillesh waited until the sounds of their departure became distant, then stood.
"Leaving?" asked Rita, surprised. Cillesh smiled at her.
"You heard him." He bent and grabbed Virose under the arms. "I've got a busy night ahead if I'm to find out which town he apparently let burn down."
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Sword_of_Aeons
Gone Crazy
Art Muse[M:0]
Dark Lord of the Dance
Posts: 216
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Post by Sword_of_Aeons on Mar 12, 2006 22:17:04 GMT -6
Alkesh sat upon the hot coals that made up his bed and settled for a round of meditation. He had cleared his mind when he felt a whisper. He did not hear anything, but he felt the sense of importance and intimacy of a friend choosing to share words they wanted to keep private from everyone else in the world. He knew that feeling came from Esh, but his thoughts did not drift towards a solution to the concerns of the previous day.
They focused on the man Father Jirresh had reminded him of last night. The man he had made the sword for. The one Jirresh told him he should never have trusted. His own thoughts repeated back to him: Doubt has never gotten me anywhere.
He opened his eyes two hours later and felt neither the sting of a broken arm nor any anxiety or exhaustion even though the previous evening had ended on the unsettling note of Cillesh telling them there was no longer a reason for them to think Virose would run away that night... because their hero had been drugged and hauled into a guest room.
The assurance of "But he won't know we did that," was hardly comforting.
This morning found Cillesh looking rather tired. "I... I didn't find much," he admitted. It looked to be an odd sensation for him.
"I don't like this," said Brother Witner, quickly. "The hero we were so excited about is not just reluctant and wallowing in self-doubt from a losing streak, he is actively responsible for the loss of an entire town!"
"I said I didn't find much," argued Cillesh, pointedly. "There are poems and songs and stories- and quite a few plays, but it's taking a long time to figure out which are real and which are fiction and which are fictional accounts of real events. I need a timeline I don't have."
"Why not?" Demanded Witner."Why can't you just start with the day Sanor left?"
"No one knows when Sanor left," said Father Jirresh, before someone could point out how obvious that was. "Many don't even realize he did. Entertainers still make up new stories of his accomplishments."
"One person knows," said Cillesh, with a grin and a raised eyebrow. "And we could ask him."
"Last time you wanted to ask him questions you had to drug him to get any answers."
"...It worked."
"It did not," Witner argued. "All we know is that he got people killed. We don't know where, how, why, or even if Sanor was involved."
Brother Luther, the archivist, cleared his throat. "We found a song about Sanor arriving at a town that had been 'dropped into the pits of hell,' in his absence," he shook his head. "But it doesn't mention Virose."
"Do any of them?"
"Actually," Cillesh smiled and looked to Alkesh. "Yes. Quite a few."
"Any of them true?" Scoffed Witner.
"Excuse you," said Alkesh, turning to him with a patient smile. "I am lead to believe that Virose is resting in the guest quarters, not standing here where he might defend himself."
Brother Witner reddened and sat back in his chair. Cillesh smothered his grin as quickly as he could and took a breath. "The tone of the hell song," he began, rescuing Witner from his shame. "People don't seem to like that song because it is highly symbolic and depressing. Makes me think that Sanor left because he failed."
Luther frowned but refused to argue. "Many of the songs and poems are open to interpretation," he allowed. "There are many ways to take it, but the most literal interpretation is that Sanor left a town to help some people who tricked him. While he was gone, the town was attacked and most of its population was killed while the survivors were... " he fumbled for a word and Cillesh took over.
"Unclear, but the song says that the ones who were killed were the lucky ones," he grimaced and allowed the room to think that over before continuing. "The song includes Sanor's returns to the town and that's usually the point where he wins the day... Except, in this song, he falls on the way back and a piece of him is broken. He returns to the town but there is no mention of a battle. Instead, it ignores the conflict and focuses on Sanor trying to fix that broken piece, but it shatters and he can't put the rest of himself back into balance."
"So, we need to find out exactly when that song was created, and by who," said Witner, nodding excitedly.
"For what purpose?" Asked Luther, in his monotone voice that sounded like an instructor who had burned out and was asked if he intended to stop his pupils from arguing about whether or not the earth was flat.
"We just wanted to sort out why Virose is opposed to helping," Cillesh explained, though he looked less passionate about that and Alkesh wondered if his intentions may have strayed a bit with the intrigue of a mystery. "I theorize..." he said, with a nod to Luther. "That the song doesn't directly mention Virose because it's abstract. I believe the writer considered Virose to be dead or lost from the start and thus does not refer to him by name. We know he survived though, so I don't know what to make of that. Either way, to me, the ending is the ending to the saga. Sanor is considered to be most at fault, and his guilt is too much. We know, however, that Virose blames himself and says that he did something to make Sanor leave. They both believe they failed that town and each other, so they both walked away."
"...And what do you think?" Witner asked Luther, turning in his seat as if to break loose from the heavy silence that had filled the room.
"I think Cillesh has an interesting theory and that I would like to find time in the near future to explore further," Luther replied strategically. "For Alkesh's purposes, I have been looking into the oath."
Alkesh brightened, but Luther looked just as passive as ever.
"It is a service pledge that was originally designed to appease various institutions and allow the academy to be granted a tax-free status. It states that the king can call on heroes in time of war or strife, that heroes will respond when they see a citizen in distress, and that Tai'Lu Academy graduate heroes will agree to jobs, even when they will not be paid, so long as they are the only option available. It defined 'agreement' as assisting in the completion of a set task."
Cillesh leaned back in his seat. "Unfortunately, it does not define 'only available option.' I'm not entirely convinced he can't walk out if he meets a hero who is willing to serve as his replacement. There is nothing to suggest his employers are the ones who decide who they want. That just seems to be his interpretation."
Alkesh nodded in agreement but did not feel reassured by the oath depending on Virose's feelings. He wondered if his morning vision had been a warning towards a difficult struggle ahead.
Witner groaned. "Then there is nothing keeping him from leaving."
"His sense of duty, purpose, responsibility..." listed Father Jiresh.
"Then there is nothing keeping him from leaving," Witner repeated. When he noticed the harsh stares turned his way, he adopted the slow, simple tone one might use on a child. "We kept him here last night by drugging him."
"Yes," said Cillesh, looking pleased.
"... We can't keep doing that."
"We can," argued Cillesh. "It was easy."
"You made your point, Witner," said Father Jirresh, waving his hand as if to break apart the animosity that was building up in the room. "The situation is less than ideal, but Alkesh is... sure... of this one...?"
"Yes," said Alkesh, when Father Jirresh hesitated.
"So we need to focus on making him stay," Jirresh concluded as if he had never held any doubt.
“Shouldn’t be too hard…" said Cillesh, coyly. When he saw that everyone was looking at him with interest, he smiled. "No offense, Alkesh. I know you and trust you completely...but your species traditionally eats people. You have claws, fangs, and are... What? Two feet taller than Virose?”
"I am taller," Alkesh replied simply.
Cillesh stared at him patiently and, in response to the blank stares that met his statement, sighed. “I can’t be the only one who's noticed the kid is afraid of his own shadow, right?"
“Wait,” said Witner, dumbstruck. “Our plan to control the hero- the one responsible for Alkesh’s safety and the success of his mission- is to rely on his cowardice?”
Cillesh smiled wickedly. "Fear is a powerful motivator." When he noticed Alkesh was frowning, he addressed him. "Virose isn't listening and is in his own head right now. Once you explain things and he understands the importance of the mission... We'll see what happens. I mean, there is a reason Esh chose you in the form you were born in. She didn't make you boring, Alkesh. Use what she gave you."
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FangedSmile
Administrator
Punchline[M:0]
Congrats to Crystal and Devin
Posts: 4,307
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Post by FangedSmile on Mar 12, 2006 22:22:53 GMT -6
Virose opened his eyes and was unenthusiastic about leaving the soft bed, but the strangeness of everything kept him moving. He found clean clothing laid out for him and that his coat looked to have been washed and his boots had been cared for.
There was also a note from Rita.
Plenty of clean water. Have a bath and come meet me. P.S. Yes, I'm sure you have a 'manly scent.' Get over it.
Virose smiled wryly. He remembered Rita, and drinking... How long had they been drinking? He noticed sunlight on the floor and took a cautious glance out the window. There was the sun, having already risen. So he'd slept through the whole night as well? That was... unexpected. The fact that the light didn't stab him straight through the eyes and into his brain was unexpected as well, though welcome.
He followed through with her orders to bathe, then shaved, and changed clothes. Standing in the room again, he felt odd. Most nights found him on whatever surface in whatever room he was renting was the softest, drinking until he was unconscious. He had slept on the streets multiple times and actually only tried to get indoors because that tattoo on his neck marked him as the property of his country- not a drunken vagrant.
He'd thought he was doing well, actually. Until now. Standing in a clean room, having cleaned up properly, and wearing freshly laundered clothing after a full night of sleep on an actual bed. It felt... amazing. Even his mood brightened, until he remembered exactly why he was there.
Grabbing his sword belt and shoving his knife into his boot, Virose rushed to the door and pulled it open, almost hitting himself in the face as he'd expected it to be locked. The wolfhound yelped and lifted its head off the ground, though when it saw him it beat its tail against the floor and laid back down. Virose stepped around it and it made no move to stop him. In fact, as he moved down the hall, the dog got up only to bound over and beg to be played with. Zudo barked and faced off against the hero, front legs splayed wide and butt high in the air as if propelled by the wagging tail.
"Zudo!" Called Rita, her voice coming from somewhere Virose couldn't place. "Let him sleep."
The dog huffed. He'd been a good boy. He hadn't bothered anyone. Virose felt his heartbeat slow and the feeling of danger faded as he pet the dog and offered praise. Zudo grinned and breathed heavily, absolutely delighted- though possibly doing damage to the floor with that tail of his. Rita appeared around a corner, looking harassed.
"Honestly," she sighed, though when she saw Virose standing there her expression changed from frustration to happiness. "Ah, I should have guessed," she teased. "Good morning."
"Good morning," he replied, trying to gauge the situation. He studied her face, but there were no traces of apprehension or anger. Her smile crinkled the skin around her eyes and her pupils expanded. She did not even seem bothered by his stare, as she simply said:
"You clean up nice... Quit turning my dog against me and come get some breakfast."
He followed at a distance as she turned and made her way down a hallway and a set of stairs, his curiosity rising as none of the hallways became familiar. How drunk had he been, and why wasn't he feeling it now?
Rita glanced over her shoulder and had an expression of smug delight. "So," she purred. "How ya feeling?" Her smile broadened as he tried to find the right words. "It's nice, right? Drink all you want and a junior priest heals it all away." Her laugh was musical as she turned to face forward and opened a door that lead into the dining room from last night. Virose remembered that part of the evening and felt less lost.
There were was a couple there who looked to be farmers, their young son, and a few priestesses. The family looked distraught.
"I can't lose her," the mother was saying. "Why would anyone hurt her? I can't lose her."
"I know, love," said Rita, crossing to the mother and placing a hand on her shoulder. "She'll be okay."
"She'd better be," snarled the father. He slammed his tin cup down on the table and turned to look at the priestesses. "Go do something!" he ordered.
Virose skirted the family, realizing Zudo was walking in-between him and the wall. He had his hackles raised and head lowered, but his wide eyes took the look from intimidating to intimidated.
The priestesses bowed their heads in unison. "Blessings to you," said one of them, speaking gently. "We pray for your daughter's well-being, and for peace to return to your household."
The man stood, his face red and his fists trembling. His wife burst into tears, which seemed to drive up his temper as he looked from her to the temple staff.
"She's with our best," Rita attempted to assure him, one hand on his wife's shoulder while the other rubbed his son's back. "Let these ladies eat, they've been working all night."
"We didn't come for prayer!" the father snapped. He looked at Rita, and she stared back with a gentle smile before her features hardened and she shook her head. He spun back to the priestesses, who had their heads bowed serenely and their hands clasped in prayer. He noticed Virose as Zudo let out a soft whimper. Target acquired.
Virose looked back to the door, quite sure Zudo would support his decision to leave the room. The problem was that having the man beat the shit out of him was better than the man beating the shit out of anyone else in the room. So, Virose stood his ground, feet slightly more than shoulder-width apart, shoulders squared off, right hand on the hilt of his sword, left hand on the sheath, ready to get his ass kicked. Zudo incorrectly perceived the fake bravado as real bravado and snarled threateningly... from around Virose's hip.
"... Not... your... best... idea," said Rita, as she watched the man turn his focus to the one person in the room who was armed. The man took a step forward and told her to shut up. She turned to look at Virose instead. "Don't hurt him," she pleaded. "He's not thinking."
Virose wondered how he must have looked if both Zudo and Rita believed he was about to do anything besides bleed and turn purple.
The man took a few more steps forward, asking the cliche questions to try and get a rise. The "What are you looking at?" style questions made an appearance, followed by the "Are you scared?" category, and its close cousin "Do you know who I am?"
What interested Virose though, was the fact that the man was trying to call him over for the fight, not coming to him. He paced, told Virose to get over there and fight him like a man, and postured.
"Sorry, hon," said Rita, in a low voice to the man's wife. "I know you're having a crisis, but your husband is rearing up to fight a Tai'Lu Academy graduate with a sword. And when I say 'fight' what I mean is... Well, maybe not the best scene in front of his son. I need you to bring out that mama bear in you and get him to calm down."
The wife looked up, dazed. "Oberon..." she called sharply. "You're better than that, and Caleb has already seen enough violence."
It was enough. The man settled and anger turned to guilt. He straightened and appeared dignified as he met Virose's gaze.
"I apologize," he stated, sounding sincere if curt. "That was weak of me."
"And that was strong of you," Virose replied, impressed at how confident he sounded. He stood up straight and they nodded to each other.
The farmer sat back down and Virose took a seat at a far table where he could see both the kitchen and the main entrance. Zudo was beside him, looking as proud as if they'd actually won a fight. Virose pat him on the head, as that was where their victory existed, and let his own nerves settle themselves. Rita came over as more of the temple staff entered the room.
"Thanks," they both said in unison, then displayed matching looks on confusion. Rita recovered first.
"I mean for not hurting him," she clarified. "People who come here for violent injuries... They all seem to share this sense of loss. Loss of control is one I see a lot. Some just get bossy and take control of their lives back that way, and others want to fight. You kept a level head."
Virose let the compliment she was trying to give him bounce straight off his avoided gaze. "I had a guard dog," he joked. "And someone told me this place was full of people who heal injuries."
Rita offered a short laugh as she turned. "I hate you modest people," she called back. "But okay. Great job, Zudo."
The dog smiled and looked so pleased with itself that Virose had to smile. He watched the priestesses finish their prayer and return to eating, and was amazed at the lack of caution they displayed. They kept their tones low, but did not show any fear towards the man one table over who had earlier been threatening them. A young boy of about ten or eleven entered the room and cleared plates away, a group of three charges entered and sat at a table near the door, and an older woman exited the kitchen with three plates of food for them- two with sausages almost as big as the plate, one with thick rashers, and all with toast, blood pudding, and eggs of different styles. They either had a standing order or people weren't asked what they wanted to eat. Either way, the food was dropped before them with coffee and orange juice, and they dug in without a moment's hesitation.
Rita re-entered the room, though she did so with Zudo's food and water dish. The dog was staring at the sausages the charges were eating, and looked disappointed by the raw eggs, carrots, and broccoli he saw first, though he perked up when he noticed the scraps of fish and chicken. He danced as he noticed the tripe. Still, he looked back at Virose for approval, which he got, before lunging forward. Rita looked up slowly at Virose, who returned her stare.
"Don't start," she warned, pointing at him as she backed into the kitchen. She returned with a tray and set down two glasses of orange juice, coffee, and two plates of food before taking a seat herself.
Virose watched her face for a reaction as he said, "If he eats first, he's the alpha."
She wrinkled her nose and pointed at him, this time with her fork. "I said don't start."
He smiled back as she shook her head and stabbed a piece of sausage. Virose looked down at his own plate. Mushrooms, tomatoes, baked beans, and oatcakes.
The older woman bustled from the kitchen and replaced the drinks at the farmer's table.
"Sad story, that," said Rita. She lowered her voice and spoke between bites. "They got here yesterday at about dinner time. I was in the kitchen, so all I know is gossip."
Virose ate his own breakfast, not quite sure how to tell Rita that he wasn't interested in gossip.
"Seems their daughter was out caring for their goats- saanens, about four of them," she took another bite and gestured to represent a large animal with horns. "Guy comes along, seedy-lookin' type with kinda green, straw-colored hair and beady eyes. He wants one of them goats." Her hands worked to cut each bit of food into bite-sized morsels even though her eye barely glanced at them. She took another bite and chewed quickly. "She tells him 'no' and heads home. He's following, thinking she's alone."
Vrose stared at her, not engaged with the story as much as wondering how she knew all this just from gossip.
"He sees the farmhouse and panics. Trying to grab a goat and I guess run off?" She rolled her eyes and gulped down her orange juice. "Goat isn't having it and fights him. The girl grabs his arm, trying to pull it free from the goat."
Virose looked to the farmer and his wife. You couldn't call their daughter a coward. She had her daddy's moxie, but her mother's courage. Powerful combination. Rita shook her head and her frantic eating slowed to match his pace.
"All he did was swing his arm." She mimed the action, slowly. Hauntingly. "Threw her. She hits her head on a rock, but she's back awake in a few seconds. Goat rampages because it's just free enough to do so. Tossed its head around and you'd swear it was aiming." she took another bite. Chewed, and swallowed with a grin. "Got him back. Got him good. Hearing the high-pitched shriek, her parents run out. Suprised that their little girl is not the one screaming."
Virose cringed as he understood her meaning. No way that guy deserved that, thief or not. He crossed his legs involuntarily, and Rita smiled.
"He's here too, don't worry. That's a good family right there- they brought the thief. Anyway, we thought she was pretty well patched up- just needed some rest... But she took a turn an hour ago."
Virose frowned, though he was also confused. Alkesh had healed his arm in a few minutes. Rita understood the look, as she tossed a piece of sausage to Zudo in an attempt to win his love. He caught the sausage as he took a seat near Virose and leaned against his leg.
"There's a reason they start with hangovers," Rita explained, staring dejectedly at her dog. "Not everyone moves much beyond that. It's not like regular magic where anyone with a spark can advance. It's more like anyone can get that spark, but advancement depends on more than just practice. A good priest worked on that girl. Her head stopped bleeding, she seemed okay. But it takes a lot more effort to heal an injury you can't see."
Virose watched her features fade, like feeling sad drained her of everything that made her who she was. He looked to the family again. They were good people- better than most. Yet, here they were, having rescued the bandit, on the verge of losing the daughter he had hurt. He returned his attention to Rita and found that she was staring at their empty plates, though still holding her fork.
"Think she'll make it?" he asked, if only to draw her from whatever thoughts she was having. She looked at him and attempted to smile.
"Of course," she replied. "...She's with our best!"
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Sword_of_Aeons
Gone Crazy
Art Muse[M:0]
Dark Lord of the Dance
Posts: 216
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Post by Sword_of_Aeons on Mar 12, 2006 22:25:04 GMT -6
Alkesh looked at Cilesh, feeling uneasy as the blond criminal stared at them with wide, frantic eyes.
"You'd only feel pain, not suffer an injury," Cillesh was explaining to the man. The priestess who healed your twig and berries last night can attest to that. She doesn't even have those parts, but she's still taking the day off."
"Y-You fixed me," said the man, though his eyes were traveling up and down Alkesh with terror. "So, let me leave."
"No one is stopping you from leaving," claimed Cillesh, with a big smile and a bigger arm wrapped around the man's shoulders. "But see... you have a unique opportunity. Yesterday you tried to steal a billy goat and smacked around a nine-year-old girl. Yesterday, you were a criminal who was then gored by said billy goat." He squeezed the man's shoulders as if in sympathy. "And your victims? Yesterday, they brought you here and asked us to save you- even offered to pay. They are good people and have given you mercy."
The criminal lowered his gaze and sat there of his own free will.
Cillesh loosened his grip. "Yesterday, you almost killed that girl. Today, she's fighting for her life. Today, you can be a hero. Alkesh is trying to fix her, but cannot focus with the amount of pain he's trying to heal. If he puts that pain in you, he can save her."
The man's brow furrowed slightly as if trying to comprehend what he was hearing. Alkesh took that as a good sign and was silent so the man had the chance to agree to their methods and redeem himself. Triumph through adversity. Proving to himself and the world that he was not just a criminal.
"Take a bit of pain, which will fade and we can help you with," encouraged Cillesh, grabbing one of the vials from the counter. He extracted some of the liquid using a large metal pipette, showcasing that the man would not even need to worry about a needle. "And save the girl."
The man looked at the dropper as Cillesh adjusted the amount of liquid within it; then stared at the little girl whose eyes had shut and refused to be opened again. He watched her struggle through exhaustion as every breath she took was manual and forced, and becoming weaker. He looked down at his hands, as if he could see the blood upon them, and sighed.
"I refuse."
"Right," said Cillesh, gripping him once more. He forced the man down onto the bed and held him there with his forearm.
"Wha-" The man squirmed, but could not pry free. "You said-"
"I said you had an opportunity," Cillesh cut him off, shoved the pipette into his mouth and squeezed the liquid down his throat. "Not a choice."
Alkesh hesitated, opposed to the violent turn of events. Cillesh met his stare with a bright grin while the man sputtered curses until the words became nonsensical, his eyelids drooped, and his head lulled to the side.
"Done that before?" Alkesh asked, disapprovingly even though he was already rolling up his sleeves. He stood up straighter as a thought occurred. "That's not what you did to Virose, is it?"
Cillesh pulled the bed the man was on over to where the girl was laying and sniffed. "I didn't need to," he chimed pleasantly. "Though, I'm glad you were paying attention in case you do need to use that little maneuver. I put a good supply of tonic and a similar dropper in the supplies for your mission."
Alkesh looked up at him and was glad to see a friendly smile instead of something more sinister- though he couldn't tell if Cillesh was joking or not and didn't have the time to ask. He placed his hands over the girl's face, moving them as his fingers sought the source of her injury. Cillesh opened her eyes and Alkesh stared into them, though her consciousness was so far away that he received little help. Still, the brain knew where it was hurt... it just couldn't focus through the pain. Alkesh sought the pain and pulled at it. He took hold of it in his right hand and fed it into the unconscious man with his left.
Ordinarily, another priest or a page would have played such a role if the priest doing the healing was unable to absorb the pain. Father Jirresh, however, had felt that Esh had given them a balance. He would not be told that the balance had refused the role. Seemed they were going to make it a habit to ignore refusal.
Alkesh returned his left hand to the girl, sliding it a breath away from her skin. Cillesh lifted her head off the table, gently, keeping his thumbs on her eyelids to keep them open. Alkesh moved slowly, methodically. Through her hair, to the injury that had been healed. He slid his hand slightly down and felt something. In her eyes, he saw a shimmer that traced back to her brain. It had swollen, pressing against her skull, becoming worse as time passed and fluid built up. His fingers danced, wielding blue and yellow strings of glowing energy. Knitting them around and through the injury, reversing the damage as the pain shot through those strings and into him.
He grit his teeth and hissed, feeling his head throb, until he could barely focus. The girl's breathing faltered, then started again, and then faltered. She was barely hanging on. He didn't have time to clear his mind. He moved his left hand to the criminal-turned-demurring-hero. Carefully, he touched the same spot on the man's head as he was touching on the girl, and transferred the pain.
"All of it," Cillesh encouraged. "He can sleep the day off. You can't."
Alkesh nodded as logic beat guilt. He released the pain and returned to the girl. The work was so very delicate, it was no wonder the damage had been missed and the attending priest had been forced to give up and ask for help. It was not lost on Alkesh that he would have left the temple already and not been here to help if he'd accepted any other mercenary for his journey, nor would he still be at the temple after sunrise if Virose had been awake.
"It will work, out" he assured the room's occupants. "I know it will."
He held that belief through another tense moment as the girl's breathing stopped again. Then her body began to take over. Her chest rose and sunk automatically, the fluid that had been building made its way around the less-swollen brain and into the rest of the body, and her eyes began to focus. Cillesh released her eyelids and she blinked, then began to look around the room. "Mommy?"
"It is alright," said Alkesh, as he double-checked to make sure there was no trace of injury within her. "You're well," he announced, happily.
She didn't seem too sure about that, considering it was a statement presented by a giant lizard towering over her. "Daddy!" she called, squirming away. She sat up, to the pride of both priests, and looked at the man. Her expression darkened.
"He hurt you," agreed Alkesh, stepping into her pinpointed line of sight. "He also has taken on the pain that you were feeling, so that I could heal you."
She considered this and the black-and-white childhood logic made her nod. "Good."
Cillesh grinned, though Alkesh was more hesitant. "Your parents were merciful to bring him here for aid, when they did not know how badly you were hurt. We must thank Esh that their kindness was paid back so quickly."
"I wouldn't have gotten hurt if he hadn't been stealing our goat," she argued with a pouting voice and protruding lip.
"True," Alkesh agreed once more. "But you are both alive, and now he has to live with the knowledge that his victims saved his life, though his actions caused them to suffer greatly. That can be a powerful thing to have to face."
She stared at the man, and a smile slowly appeared on her face. "So, he might not be a bad guy anymore?"
Alkesh smiled as well, pleased at her resiliency.
"Yes," replied Cillesh. "Though, we have called for guards anyway. The lesson he's learned might take a while to sink in and we want you and your family to be safe while it does."
The girl nodded and slid off the bed with Alkesh's help. She felt a little unsteady and very tired after her ordeal, so he picked her up and carried her.
--
Cillesh, Alkesh, and the little girl made their way to the dining hall. The room was quieter than it usually would be around this time, and Cillesh wondered if people were waiting until the family finished eating and returned to the actual waiting room. When they entered, Virose was the first to notice, followed by Rita, as she wondered what had so suddenly caught his attention.
She stood quickly and beamed at them before rushing towards the girl's parents. Cillesh noticed her wolfhound did not follow her and was instead sitting obediently next to the hero- who looked much more dependable now that he was clean and rested. The fact that he looked fully alert and focused was also noted, as Cillesh had been under the assumption that they would be keeping him at least mildly sedated. He caught Rita's eye, hoping to inquire, but she only smiled in return.
The girl's parents looked up and shifted from scared to delighted and every emotion in-between in rapid-fire procession as they saw their daughter alive and well... in the grip of a s'skarran.
"Mommy!" she squealed in delight. "I'm all better now!"
Alkesh set the girl down as the parents rushed to her and her father scooped her up into his arms. Last they had seen her, she'd been mumbling incoherently and unable to open her eyes or stand. They had spent the last half hour dreading the moment when they would leave the temple with their son in a baby wrap, and their daughter in a box. There weren't enough words in their combined vocabulary to express how they felt, though they certainly tried. Alkesh accepted their praise humbly, not wanting to make it sound like saving their daughter was unimportant, but also not comfortable with bragging.
Cillesh walked around them, excusing himself with a bow. His attention traveled to Rita, as she stood with one hand over her mouth and tears brimming in her eyes. She noticed his stare and pulled her attention away from the heartfelt scene, dabbing quickly at her eyes as he made his way over.
"Coffee, please?" he requested of her. She offered a curt nod and retreated to the kitchen, where he did not doubt she would be telling the entire crew about the girl's recovery.
"Good morning," he greeted Virose.
Virose nodded back, though he was still looking at the family with an unreadable expression on his face. "I thought the morning address was 'coffee, please'."
Cillesh smiled and looked over toward the family to keep himself from staring at the hero. After so many hours reading about Sanor, the itch to ask about him was enormous. The urge to question how Virose went from being included in legends, songs, and poems... to someone who stared at the world like he owed it money and did not intend to pay... well that urge wasn't an itch; it was an insect bite. Better left untouched, but so hard to ignore.
He signed and realized Virose was watching him, cautiously out of the corner of his eye.
Much too alert for questions.
When Rita came back with a pitcher of coffee and extra mugs, he tried again to get an explanation. She caught his eye and set four mugs on the table.
"You two had a busy morning it looks like. Please, have a seat. Join us." She sat and he joined her.
Virose mostly ignored him and passed the time hurling a previously destroyed piece of table leg down the length of the dining hall so Zudo could retrieve it. The dog at least seemed to be having the best morning of its life.
Alkesh sat down at the shared table, looking quite exhausted. "Coffee, please?" He requested, to Virose's unspoken amusement. Cillesh looked over at him, expecting a snide comment that never came.
"Ah, good morning!" Alkesh greeted Virose. "You look well." He had a certain cringe to his face, and absently rubbed the back of his head.
"Doesn't he?" Said Cillesh, staring at Rita. "Very awake and sharp."
She ignored him like Virose ignored the social niceties.
"Headache?" He asked
Alkesh bowed appreciably to Rita as she handed him a mug of coffee. "Yes," he replied to Virose, quite aware that his greeting had been ignored and the hero seemed to be in as bad a mood as ever. Still, in the interest of encouraging a routine of answering questions fully, he added: "But it is a minor burden. I am blessed to take it and know that the child no longer feels it."
He looked at the hero, prepared to have a discussion on the joys of helping others, but Virose was not paying attention. His focus was on the entrance way as more of Esh's disciples entered the dining hall.
Alkesh looked at Cillesh and they both drank deeply from their coffee mugs. The warmth was a blessing.
"Should I pack some for you?" Asked Rita, holding up the pitcher before pouring coffee into the other two mugs on the table. She looked at Virose as she poured his. "Better drink up so you guys can leave on schedule."
That caught both Cillesh and Alkesh's attention, though they struggled not to react as they waited for the outcome. Virose was silent, offering only a faint, distinctly gloomy nod as he lifted the mug. Rita looked noticeably smug, though she made no further comment.
"Ah, yes, please," said Alkesh, realizing an answer was required. "That is very kind, thank you." His tail swayed happily as he sipped his coffee.
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FangedSmile
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Post by FangedSmile on Mar 12, 2006 22:27:02 GMT -6
Virose watched the little girl run around the banquet hall to the absolute delight of her parents. Father Jirresh praised the family for their mercy towards the would-be thief. The father rambled about how they would not have come if that criminal had not been so grievously injured, because the girl had seemed fine. The mother dropped to her knees in prayer, thanking Esh loudly for turning such a hopeless situation around, and for their act of helping their fellow man being the act that saved their daughter. Different personnel stopped to look in, each looking astonished and reciting the importance of faith and balance.
It got to the point that Virose cast a glare at the scale engraved in the wall. 'I get it,' he thought to a goddess he had never even believed in before. The healing thing was interesting, but he wasn't sure it was different than other forms of magic... just harder to master. Virose didn't understand why they were still there if their kid was all better, but apparently the temple did not fully trust the miracle either. Father Jirresh kept asking if she was behaving normally and trying to get her to tell him what she was feeling.
Anyway, the statue was unresponsive, the dining hall emptied, and a few minutes later Alkesh stood and said it was time to head out.
As they left the main building, Virose realized a whole lot of chores were being neglected, because absolutely everyone was lined up along the path to the main gate. Staring. He froze, for a moment. Wondering if they would start melting, but Rita looked pleased and when she smiled at them, they smiled back.
It was different than the sendoffs he remembered, as those always had a lot of energetic people waving, bidding them good luck, pats on the back, shouts asking Sanor to kill something for whomever was shouting, kids running about pretending to be them... The type of event that made you feel like a big damn hero before you'd done anything besides mount a horse and start to leave.
This... this was different. There were children, but they were still, watchful, and quiet. The only things that came close to shouts were from people further back in the crowd... and even then it was just loud enough to hear and no louder. Instead of patting Alkesh on the back, people clasped their hands together and bowed with murmured thanks. The bids for good luck had changed to variants of "May Esh bless you." The waving was praying. The energy level was replaced by a sense of reverence. He didn't feel like a hero, so much as he felt like a sacrificial lamb. He wondered if he hadn't been chosen BECAUSE he was terrible and the lamb feeling was real. He was going off with a s'skarran, after all.
For his part, he set his gaze forward and walked, though his steps faltered as he realized they were heading towards a cart that was stocked with supplies and being pulled by one gigantic, lone gypsy vanner that was a silvery brown color with a yellow-ish mane, tail, and feathered legs.
He had been hoping for two horses and some saddle bags, not a draft horse and supplies for a month-long journey. Hadn't Alkesh said he did not want to take too much? Virose neared the cart and realized the back was not as full as he'd thought, but still fuller than he'd hoped. The gear he had purchased was there, as well as some food and cooking supplies, clothing, and miscellaneous objects his eyes only glanced over briefly.
His pace slowed almost involuntarily and he noticed Cillesh had slowed as well, and was eyeing him wearily. Rita, however, was the one to reach him. She gave a laugh as she almost had to step around him, gave him a nudge and whispered something about having included a large water skin that was most definitely not filled with water. Virose's mouth had once again become too dry to offer her a reply, though he forced an appreciative smile and scratched Zudo on the head as the dog rubbed against his leg.
His intention to get into the back of the cart was diverted by the fact that Rita was walking behind him and Cillesh was to his left, creating a barrier unless he wanted to walk closer to the man who seemed to enjoy hugging people.
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Sword_of_Aeons
Gone Crazy
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Post by Sword_of_Aeons on Mar 12, 2006 22:28:50 GMT -6
Alkesh climbed onto the cart without worry that the familiar horse would panic, as many did. Looking back at the gathered crowd, he felt fully prepared for his mission. After all, they were all still here because such missions succeeded, and if he failed... well... That would be that. He looked over at Virose, as the hero jumped agilely onto the carriage without comment. He appeared... Alkesh decided to call it stoic.
Father Jirresh stepped forward and the crowd turned their attention to him.
"For Esh did not create the matter of the world," he began, quoting the holy book. "She foresaw what was there already and put it into order. Suspending the cosmos in a state of balance. Every act with a reaction, every choice with a consequence." He spread his arms wide and weighed his hands to symbolize equality. "Such as she created a beginning, she has created an end. For every life, a death. Species grew and died, letting their genetic material progress life and adapt to changes. Though, as the end arrived, Esh became bored. The world changed and so did its inhabitants, but things also remained the same. Animals and plants changed size and shape and color, but their lives were the same. Live. Breed. Die. It was balanced, but it lacked meaning. Thus, she stretched the time between the beginning and the end and gave certain species the gift of longer lives so that we may change the world. The end of time is assured, and is one of her creations. The responsibility to delay that end, is ours."
"Amen!" cheered the assembly. Alkesh gave a gentle flick to the reigns and they were off. He turned his head to look at those he was leaving behind, and bowed his head to show how honored he felt for being one of them.
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FangedSmile
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Post by FangedSmile on Mar 12, 2006 22:34:43 GMT -6
Virose would miss... Zudo... And probably Rita, as well. He wasn't sure. There was something about her, some sense of secrecy underneath her facade of openness. He was okay with secrecy, but distrustful of 'actors.' It always felt like those people were more interested in manipulation than anything else, and he never bothered to wonder where the con ended and the person began. There was no point.
Cillesh made him feel the same way, so of those he had met from the Temple of Esh... He liked the dog.
Beside him, Alkesh winced as the sun broke through the trees lining the road. He either really did feel the pain of the injury, or was a better actor than Cillesh and Rita. The flinch had came too quickly to be faked, Virose decided cautiously. Though, the lizard showed no tenderness in his left arm, so it seemed like the pain faded over time.
He looked Alkesh up and down with a bored expression. This s'skarran was the best healer? Why send him out? Why spend a week interviewing mercs? Why choose him? Just... So much 'why?'
And what about that parting speech?
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Sword_of_Aeons
Gone Crazy
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Post by Sword_of_Aeons on Mar 12, 2006 22:36:45 GMT -6
Alkesh was aware that he was being scrutinized, but that happened a lot to giant,ebony-scaled lizard priests. He did not feel bothered until the hero's expression changed from outward to inward examination. That, he had learned yesterday, lead to depression.
The edges of Alkesh's mouth turned upward in something akin to a grin. "The weather is perfect," he announced brightly. "Esh smiles, my friend."
Virose looked up at the sky, but seemed unimpressed. Still, at least he was listening. Alkesh turned and grabbed a leather bound book filled with maps.
"My sisters had the best luck in determining the first stop," he explained as he flipped through pages. "It's a few days journey if we keep up a good pace and this most agreeable weather continues."
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FangedSmile
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Post by FangedSmile on Mar 12, 2006 22:43:57 GMT -6
Virose set himself for the journey and repressed a sigh. Alkesh handed him the maps and after half an hour of silence, he sat straight, rested his clawed hands upside down on his knees ad shut his eyes. Virose rolled his own, wondering why the lizard was trying to sleep after drinking all that coffee. He looked at the maps and kept the horse on track, but after awhile there was nothing but a long stretch of road beside repeating trees. The soft creak of the wheels and clanks and clacks of the supplies mixed with the sound of hoof beats into a repetitious pattern with all the sounds coming in groups. The clip clop of the hooves happened at the tame time as the clicking of cookware and the supplies bounced and shifted together. Virose focused on them, trying to make a rhythm out of the pattern they presented, and once he had done that, he tried to make a new rhythm.... Until, miles down the road, the sounds just became noise. Boring, repetitious noise.
He let out the sigh he felt and leaned on the armrest.
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