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Steel Dragon's "Tales of Orea"
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<blockquote data-quote="steeldragons" data-source="post: 5595161" data-attributes="member: 92511"><p><strong>A mage, a paladin and a halfling walk into a bar...</strong></p><p></p><p>They checked in with the Constable’s office and met the mayor, Brethel Oakenshield.</p><p></p><p></p><p>Duor found this humorous since the lord of the dwarves on the southern kingdom of Daegun was named "Oakshield." He supposed, quietly to his fellows after the meeting, that the mayor must be an honorable man to have dwarf blood.</p><p></p><p></p><p>The Constable reported that he had doubled the watch and sent scouts to “the lea” which was the way the party had entered the valley. The men of the guard, all 10 of them (the mention of which Braddok and Coerraine shuddered in their armor), were put on alert and other men of the militia were being gathered and armed. The mayor nodded his approval, but, he added, he would like to alleviate any hysteria among "the commonfolk... should the strangers’ claims be false."</p><p> </p><p> To this, Coerraine stepped up and gave witness, “I have seen their atrocities with my own eyes, Lord Mayor. I have fought one of their foraging parties. They are very much, I am sorry to say, a real threat to all in this area.” The Redstar Knight’s testimony was taken quite seriously and the mayor made the added proclamation that messengers be sent (via boat) to Welford’s “neighboring” towns on the south side of the lake. The mayor was also greatly relieved to hear the Green Witch was in her cottage. </p><p> </p><p> Braddok inquired about the size of a fully rallied force of Welford.</p><p> </p><p> “We have the Constable, Deputy Skot, the 10 trained men of the guards and the milita…which would number, fully rallied, at 120.” The mayor answered. “More than enough to hold the lea…besides, we have the Green Witch...and yeh lot! Looks like ye could tousle a few goblins, eh?” the mayor guffawed. </p><p> </p><p> “Well,” Alaria felt compelled to mention, “we will not be resting long here. In fact we will likely make our way at dawn to carry word to Miralosta.”</p><p> </p><p> Brethel frowned. “As you will.” He grumbled. “Yeh’ve done us a great service by bring us word. But yer welcome to stay long as yeh like.”</p><p> </p><p> With that, the meeting was closed and the group went about their day. </p><p> </p><p> Haelan was happy to return to the inn for “lunch” though it had been only a couple of hours since their morning meal.</p><p> </p><p> Alaria suggested he and Coerraine venture to the “Gods Hall” to pay respects and surmise what help, if any, the local clergy might be if a fight came to Welford. </p><p> </p><p> Fen excused himself to wander the surrounding lands. He promised to rejoin the group in the evening if Alaria wouldn’t mind him joining her to return to the Green Witch’s cottage (even though he, specifically, had not received an invitation to return). </p><p> </p><p> Coerraine grumbled some objection that the druid would “abandon” them in this time of possible need.</p><p> </p><p> Braddok pointed out to the paladin that there were watches in place and the goblin horde was easily still a day behind them. Coerraine was forced to see the swordsman’s reason.</p><p> </p><p> Erevan politely asked Alaria’s leave to continue to Evandrial alone and meet them there. Alaria was reticent, but conceded, wishing the elf safe journey and gods’ speed. Erevan thank her with a deep bow and a kiss on the hand. </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><em>"Felin sa elati, Alaria Arkanis."</em> he said to her. <literally translated from High Elvin: 'Dance in your joy, Magus Alaria"> Alaria smiled and blushed, despite herself. She felt herself fall into the elf's violet eyes and thought for a moment she might swoon from the happiness of her newfound freedom...not to mention Erevan's good looks.</p><p></p><p></p><p>He instructed them to the quickest route to Evandrial. She promised they would follow the next day. </p><p> </p><p></p><p>With another quick kiss to her hand, he walked away with Braddok heading toward where they'd been told by Constable Bertram the weapons- and blacksmith shop would be found.</p><p> </p><p></p><p>Alaria, still floating in the joy of being her own mage, assumed they were safe for the day and invited everyone else to do as they would for the afternoon and regroup at six bells at the inn for dinner before they were to return to Rhea’s abode.</p><p> </p><p> The party divided up the remnants of the treasure they had from the harpies’ hoard and went their separate ways to shop and explore the hamlet.</p><p> </p><p> Erevan replenished some arrows before he left, including one claimed to have been enchanted by the Dragonmage, himself. “Fire it at a giant and the creature will fall,” asserted the weaponsmith with a large smile.</p><p></p><p></p><p>Braddok left his swallow-tailed hawk emblazoned shield with the smith to have the dents of their previous encounters knocked out.</p><p></p><p></p><p>The elf and swordsman exhanged glances.</p><p></p><p></p><p>"We'll be there," said Braddok. Erevan nodded, his face dispassionate as ever.</p><p></p><p></p><p> </p><p> The two grasped arms and parted ways. "Be careful", Braddok said wuietly to himself when the elf had gone.</p><p></p><p> </p><p>The dark-haired westerner turned and went to find deputy Skot to survey the arms being doled out to the militia, figuring he might lend some expertise. </p><p></p><p></p><p>No one noticed where Duor had wandered off to. He was gone before the party parted ways outside of the meeting hall.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p> </p><p> Coerraine agreed with Alaria’s suggestion but felt it a neglecting of his duty to leave her alone in an “unknown” town. Alaria assented to join the halfling cleric and Redstar Knight to the Gods Hall. Then, she insisted, she be allowed to do some shopping of her own. The paladin had no complaint about this.</p><p> </p><p> The Gods Hall of Welford was a simple stone building with a high-peaked roof. Engraved in the stones of the arched entryway were the symbols of several deities, including the waves of Tyris, the 8-pointed star on a shield of Celradorn and the budding rose of Gilea, among others.</p><p></p><p></p><p>It was common in communities in the Laklans and Freelands, that had no specific or dominantly popular temple, to erect a "Gods Hall" so that travelers and priests of many faiths might have a place to offer sacrifice. The presence of one in Welford interested Alaria as she assumed such a rural community would be (primarily) devoted to Sylari, goddess of the harvest and weather as well as “nature” in general. </p><p> </p><p></p><p> When she mentioned this to Haelan who was eagerly trying to name the symbols on the arch, it was Coerraine who answered.</p><p> </p><p> “As I understand it, milady, the nature priests of Sylari do not worship within any man-made structure. Their rites are all conducted out of doors, on hilltops usually. At least that is how I have been told.” Said the paladin.</p><p> </p><p> “That is so.” Haelan was happy to chime in. “The worship of Sylari is very similar to Faerantha, though we are not so stubborn as to brave the elements when they are inhospitable.” The halfling smiled.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><p>The magess, Hilltender and Goldshield entered the long narrow structure. Set into each side of the building was a series of alcoves, four to each side. Within each was a small altar and either a statue or other symbolic representation of an individual deity. Between them, they were able to pick out alcoves for (along the left from the door): Celradorn, the Golden Defender, god of battleskill and guardianship; Manat, the Blue Star, goddess of magic; Jasralne, the Maiden, goddess of Spring and Love; and Tyris. On the right were alcoves dedicated to Gilea, the Merciful Mother, goddess of healing, motherhood and fortitude; Dunric, Smith of the gods, patron of smiths and craftsmen of all types; and Irion, the Crusader, god of the sun and protector of travelers.</p><p></p><p></p><p>An acolyte in simple brown robes was adorning the last alcove on the right in swathes of fabric of bright green and orange. A large copper disc with a green quarter moon enameled within it sat on the small alter. This one Alaria recognized, easily, as being devoted to Sorilorr, the All-knowing, god of knowledge, the mind and the lesser moon. </p><p> </p><p> At the far end of the single long room was a small dais and a larger alter. </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>An elderly man in robes of harvest gold was instructing another two acolytes, one in a simple forest green tunic and brown breeches and the other in brown robes, in the adornment of the altar area. A large bard’s harp sat behind the alter on a long table and branches full of golden bronzewood leaves and dark violet leaves of the silverleaf trees were being arranged around the dais. Several sprigs of oak with acorns still attached were piled on the floor, yet to be placed. </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p> Noting the gaze of his helpers, the hunched old man in gold robes turned to see the three adventurers. The man was almost totally bald with a beard of wiry grey, not the flowing silver white of Tidemaster Kama, but trimmed to chest level. A simple disc of bronzewood inscribed with the gold aspen leaf of Sylari hung around his neck, dipping just below his beard. On his belt hung a large ring with a number of keys. He leaned upon a staff of lacquered bronzewood that seemed to give off a golden glow in the sun that streamed through the large round window above the dais.</p><p> </p><p> “Hail and well met, travelers. How may we serve you this day?” he said with a smile. “If you are come for the festival of Bysdan, I’m afraid you are a tad early.” He added.</p><p> </p><p> “Not at all, Father.” Offered Coerraine. “We are simply new to your charming hamlet and wanted to pay our respects to the Eternals.”</p><p> </p><p> “Ah yes, well met, Redstar.” The man returned. “It has been long since this hall welcomed one of Celradorn’s chosen.” He looked the other two over. His eyes rested on Haelan for a bit. “And longer still since a Hilltender of the hairfoot-folk, as I recall.” He smiled a good-natured smile to the halfling. “You are most welcome here, gentle sir.”</p><p> </p><p> Haelan returned the smile with a deep bow. “Thank you, ehm, Father…?”</p><p> </p><p> “It’s ‘Prior’, actually. Prior Korin, at your service. Priest of Sylari and administrator of Welford’s Gods Hall.” He paused a moment, “And you, my lady, may be the longest absent of all. A mage of R’Hath is a rare sight indeed in Welford. You are searching for our Green Witch, no doubt? I here she’s flown away again.”</p><p> </p><p> “Thank you, Prior Korin.” Alaria answered. “We have already met with her. I am Alaria Staver of Ablidon. This is Hilltender Haelan Spurthistle and Goldshield Coerraine.” Alaria paused for a moment realizing she could not recall Coerraine’s surname. Something for later, she thought.</p><p></p><p></p><p>“We are simply passing through. We have been on a long journey. I had not even considered that the festival of Bysdan would be so close.” she said.</p><p></p><p> </p><p> “Ah yes, my dear.” Prior Korin answered. “Only two days time and so much to do. If there is not anything specific I can help you with, I invite you to use whatever altars you require. Each has a bowl for offerings and donations as you, good folk, see fit.” He smiled kindly. “I should get back to instructing my young hands, here.”</p><p> </p><p> “If I may, Prior,” Haelan jumped in politely, “I thought the priests of Sylari did not worship indoors?”</p><p> </p><p> The old man chuckled and nodded, “And you would be correct, friend Hilltender. I do not conduct rituals here, but as the senior priest and administrator of the Hall, it is one of my thankful duties to see it made ready for those who will.” Korin leaned towards Haelan and added a hushed aside, “We are not forbidden to <em>be</em> indoors, merely to practice our rites.” He gave the starry-eyed halfling a wink. </p><p> </p><p> “Prior Korin,” Coerraine now injected, “I am sorry to keep you, but how many priests do you oversee?” The paladin wished to make no insult but was very much hoping there was more than the old man and three youths in town.</p><p> </p><p> Korin thought for a moment before responding. “Well, that’s an odd question. You can see there is myself. Bern and Shek, ” he gestured to the to young men in brown robes, “aid me in the service of Sylari though they are not near priests yet, themselves.” He raised his staff toward the young man in the green tunic, “Tortham, here, is a devotee of the Minstrel. His mentor is the ranking priest of Bysdan in these parts, Harper Cressden. It is he who shall host the festival and necessary rites.” The old man stopped again and thought. “There’s Brother Berk of Sorilorr, Protectress Kaylie, their attendants…others come and go as their gods see fit...I suppose we are twelve of us, all told. Though only we four seniors are initiated for rites. Why do you ask?”</p><p> </p><p> Coerraine seemed unsure how to answer, “How many of you are of spellcasting rank?” he said bluntly.</p><p> </p><p> The Prior seemed taken aback by this inquiry. Alaria quickly interjected, “If we may, Prior, might we have a private word?”</p><p> </p><p> The Prior’s face turned grave, but he nodded and with a few instructions to the young men to continue their work led the three party members through a door to the side of the dais which led to a small room.</p><p></p><p></p><p>It held a table and some shelves filled with candlesticks, incense burners and various other items that could be used in religious rites. Haelan was particularly enamored of a rack on which hung an array of robes, mantles, cowls and cloaks. They were, to Haelan’s mind, all of the colors of the rainbow, aligned in descending order, reds to oranges to yellows and so on.</p><p> </p><p> Alaria explained the possible impending situation. Prior Korin listened, little shock was bretrayed on his face. He stroked his beard nervously as they finished their tale.</p><p> </p><p> “Hmm. Grave news indeed. I am certain Brethel would be sending me word of this shortly.” The prior frowned a bit then continued, “To answer your question, Goldshield, it sounds as though only myself, Harper Cressden and Protectress Kaylie might be of use. Kaylie’s attendants might prove useful for healing,” he raised a hand, palm outward, fingers outstretched, and placed it to his forehead, “gods forbid it be necessary.” He lowered his hand back to grasp his staff. “But as you well know, the Daughters of Gilea will not fight. Only their chosen Protectresses are permitted to bare arms or do harm to others.”</p><p> </p><p> Coerraine nodded his knowing agreement. The Daughters of Gilea were prevalent in his homeland of Mostrial. The skills of the Daughters’ healing, both natural and magical, were well known to him. He was also familiar with the ferocity and devotion of Gilea’s chosen ones for the sacred position of ‘Protectress.’ He thought back to his youth and the Protectress who had tutored him in various forms of non-lethal battle at his father’s keep. It was before he had felt the calling of Celradorn, but she had been an amazingly skilled instructor.</p><p> </p><p> “And what of Brother…Berk, was it?” Haelan asked.</p><p> </p><p> “Ah, well. Berk is a skilled scribe and wise priest. Very knowledgeable, as the servants of Sorilorr are want to be. He and the Green Witch are good friends, actually, and often philosophize for hours. Oh my yes.” The prior chuckled a bit before recalling what he had originally been starting to say. “But I fear his spellcraft would not serve our cause if war were to come to Welford.</p><p> </p><p> “And I confess, I am a bit old to be very useful, myself. ” the Prior voice trailed off, “The stag only rules til the next, after all.” <Sylarian proverb, basically meaning he was past his prime. The younger more vigorous males replace the old or feeble.></p><p> </p><p> Alaria thought on this for a moment. “Prior, where might we find Brother Berk at this time?”</p><p> </p><p> “I suppose he is back at the rectory. Right behind us here, across the park. He spends almost all of his time in the library there in his writing and study.” Prior Korin answered.</p><p> </p><p> “Our thanks, Prior. Let us hope that none need use their divine power in the coming days for anything but fun and frolic as the Minstrel of Autumn would wish. We’ll keep you no longer from your tasks.” Alaria answered.</p><p> </p><p> “The Golden Leaf bless us you are right, my dear.” The Prior replied. “My tasks now include meeting with the other senior priests and informing them of this news.” He bade them good day and showed them back to the main hall and went back to his decorating.</p><p></p><p></p><p>“No, no, Shek. The acorn boughs should be used to strew the chandeliers. Bring them down, and replace the candles while we’re at it. Tortham! Should I tell Harper Cressden that he need be here to ensure your participation?”</p><p> </p><p> The young man in the green tunic leapt up from where he had been lounging, absently plucking notes on his harp to help the brown-robed Shek lower the large chandeliers.</p><p> </p><p> The three adventurers returned through the Gods Hall. Coerraine stopped for some prayer in Celradorn’s alcove. Alaria, to Haelan’s surprise, entered the alcove of Manat, threw a few coins into the charity dish and bowed her head.</p><p></p><p></p><p>The magess, Alaria, said a silent prayer of thanks to the goddess of magic for the safe completion of her errand, the completion of her apprenticeship and the fulfillment of becoming her own woman.</p><p> </p><p> Haelan watched as the acolytes continued about their decorating, smiling to himself. When the paladin and wizard returned from their alcoves, the three went around the back of the Gods Hall and across a rectangular nicely manicured lawn lined with silverleaf trees, now plumed in violet leaves, some beginning to fall and scatter across the grass.</p><p> </p><p> Across the lawn stood another stone building, this one two stories, long and narrow with narrow tall windows on both levels. The shale tiling on the roof a mixture of cool greys and blues. An arched double doorway of reddish wood with black iron fittings faced “the park.” </p><p> </p><p> Alaria headed for the rectory with Coerraine and Haelan in questioning tow.</p><p></p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next up, "Brothers, Baubles and Black Skies"</strong></em></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="steeldragons, post: 5595161, member: 92511"] [b]A mage, a paladin and a halfling walk into a bar...[/b] They checked in with the Constable’s office and met the mayor, Brethel Oakenshield. Duor found this humorous since the lord of the dwarves on the southern kingdom of Daegun was named "Oakshield." He supposed, quietly to his fellows after the meeting, that the mayor must be an honorable man to have dwarf blood. The Constable reported that he had doubled the watch and sent scouts to “the lea” which was the way the party had entered the valley. The men of the guard, all 10 of them (the mention of which Braddok and Coerraine shuddered in their armor), were put on alert and other men of the militia were being gathered and armed. The mayor nodded his approval, but, he added, he would like to alleviate any hysteria among "the commonfolk... should the strangers’ claims be false." To this, Coerraine stepped up and gave witness, “I have seen their atrocities with my own eyes, Lord Mayor. I have fought one of their foraging parties. They are very much, I am sorry to say, a real threat to all in this area.” The Redstar Knight’s testimony was taken quite seriously and the mayor made the added proclamation that messengers be sent (via boat) to Welford’s “neighboring” towns on the south side of the lake. The mayor was also greatly relieved to hear the Green Witch was in her cottage. Braddok inquired about the size of a fully rallied force of Welford. “We have the Constable, Deputy Skot, the 10 trained men of the guards and the milita…which would number, fully rallied, at 120.” The mayor answered. “More than enough to hold the lea…besides, we have the Green Witch...and yeh lot! Looks like ye could tousle a few goblins, eh?” the mayor guffawed. “Well,” Alaria felt compelled to mention, “we will not be resting long here. In fact we will likely make our way at dawn to carry word to Miralosta.” Brethel frowned. “As you will.” He grumbled. “Yeh’ve done us a great service by bring us word. But yer welcome to stay long as yeh like.” With that, the meeting was closed and the group went about their day. Haelan was happy to return to the inn for “lunch” though it had been only a couple of hours since their morning meal. Alaria suggested he and Coerraine venture to the “Gods Hall” to pay respects and surmise what help, if any, the local clergy might be if a fight came to Welford. Fen excused himself to wander the surrounding lands. He promised to rejoin the group in the evening if Alaria wouldn’t mind him joining her to return to the Green Witch’s cottage (even though he, specifically, had not received an invitation to return). Coerraine grumbled some objection that the druid would “abandon” them in this time of possible need. Braddok pointed out to the paladin that there were watches in place and the goblin horde was easily still a day behind them. Coerraine was forced to see the swordsman’s reason. Erevan politely asked Alaria’s leave to continue to Evandrial alone and meet them there. Alaria was reticent, but conceded, wishing the elf safe journey and gods’ speed. Erevan thank her with a deep bow and a kiss on the hand. [I]"Felin sa elati, Alaria Arkanis."[/I] he said to her. <literally translated from High Elvin: 'Dance in your joy, Magus Alaria"> Alaria smiled and blushed, despite herself. She felt herself fall into the elf's violet eyes and thought for a moment she might swoon from the happiness of her newfound freedom...not to mention Erevan's good looks. He instructed them to the quickest route to Evandrial. She promised they would follow the next day. With another quick kiss to her hand, he walked away with Braddok heading toward where they'd been told by Constable Bertram the weapons- and blacksmith shop would be found. Alaria, still floating in the joy of being her own mage, assumed they were safe for the day and invited everyone else to do as they would for the afternoon and regroup at six bells at the inn for dinner before they were to return to Rhea’s abode. The party divided up the remnants of the treasure they had from the harpies’ hoard and went their separate ways to shop and explore the hamlet. Erevan replenished some arrows before he left, including one claimed to have been enchanted by the Dragonmage, himself. “Fire it at a giant and the creature will fall,” asserted the weaponsmith with a large smile. Braddok left his swallow-tailed hawk emblazoned shield with the smith to have the dents of their previous encounters knocked out. The elf and swordsman exhanged glances. "We'll be there," said Braddok. Erevan nodded, his face dispassionate as ever. The two grasped arms and parted ways. "Be careful", Braddok said wuietly to himself when the elf had gone. The dark-haired westerner turned and went to find deputy Skot to survey the arms being doled out to the militia, figuring he might lend some expertise. No one noticed where Duor had wandered off to. He was gone before the party parted ways outside of the meeting hall. Coerraine agreed with Alaria’s suggestion but felt it a neglecting of his duty to leave her alone in an “unknown” town. Alaria assented to join the halfling cleric and Redstar Knight to the Gods Hall. Then, she insisted, she be allowed to do some shopping of her own. The paladin had no complaint about this. The Gods Hall of Welford was a simple stone building with a high-peaked roof. Engraved in the stones of the arched entryway were the symbols of several deities, including the waves of Tyris, the 8-pointed star on a shield of Celradorn and the budding rose of Gilea, among others. It was common in communities in the Laklans and Freelands, that had no specific or dominantly popular temple, to erect a "Gods Hall" so that travelers and priests of many faiths might have a place to offer sacrifice. The presence of one in Welford interested Alaria as she assumed such a rural community would be (primarily) devoted to Sylari, goddess of the harvest and weather as well as “nature” in general. When she mentioned this to Haelan who was eagerly trying to name the symbols on the arch, it was Coerraine who answered. “As I understand it, milady, the nature priests of Sylari do not worship within any man-made structure. Their rites are all conducted out of doors, on hilltops usually. At least that is how I have been told.” Said the paladin. “That is so.” Haelan was happy to chime in. “The worship of Sylari is very similar to Faerantha, though we are not so stubborn as to brave the elements when they are inhospitable.” The halfling smiled. The magess, Hilltender and Goldshield entered the long narrow structure. Set into each side of the building was a series of alcoves, four to each side. Within each was a small altar and either a statue or other symbolic representation of an individual deity. Between them, they were able to pick out alcoves for (along the left from the door): Celradorn, the Golden Defender, god of battleskill and guardianship; Manat, the Blue Star, goddess of magic; Jasralne, the Maiden, goddess of Spring and Love; and Tyris. On the right were alcoves dedicated to Gilea, the Merciful Mother, goddess of healing, motherhood and fortitude; Dunric, Smith of the gods, patron of smiths and craftsmen of all types; and Irion, the Crusader, god of the sun and protector of travelers. An acolyte in simple brown robes was adorning the last alcove on the right in swathes of fabric of bright green and orange. A large copper disc with a green quarter moon enameled within it sat on the small alter. This one Alaria recognized, easily, as being devoted to Sorilorr, the All-knowing, god of knowledge, the mind and the lesser moon. At the far end of the single long room was a small dais and a larger alter. An elderly man in robes of harvest gold was instructing another two acolytes, one in a simple forest green tunic and brown breeches and the other in brown robes, in the adornment of the altar area. A large bard’s harp sat behind the alter on a long table and branches full of golden bronzewood leaves and dark violet leaves of the silverleaf trees were being arranged around the dais. Several sprigs of oak with acorns still attached were piled on the floor, yet to be placed. Noting the gaze of his helpers, the hunched old man in gold robes turned to see the three adventurers. The man was almost totally bald with a beard of wiry grey, not the flowing silver white of Tidemaster Kama, but trimmed to chest level. A simple disc of bronzewood inscribed with the gold aspen leaf of Sylari hung around his neck, dipping just below his beard. On his belt hung a large ring with a number of keys. He leaned upon a staff of lacquered bronzewood that seemed to give off a golden glow in the sun that streamed through the large round window above the dais. “Hail and well met, travelers. How may we serve you this day?” he said with a smile. “If you are come for the festival of Bysdan, I’m afraid you are a tad early.” He added. “Not at all, Father.” Offered Coerraine. “We are simply new to your charming hamlet and wanted to pay our respects to the Eternals.” “Ah yes, well met, Redstar.” The man returned. “It has been long since this hall welcomed one of Celradorn’s chosen.” He looked the other two over. His eyes rested on Haelan for a bit. “And longer still since a Hilltender of the hairfoot-folk, as I recall.” He smiled a good-natured smile to the halfling. “You are most welcome here, gentle sir.” Haelan returned the smile with a deep bow. “Thank you, ehm, Father…?” “It’s ‘Prior’, actually. Prior Korin, at your service. Priest of Sylari and administrator of Welford’s Gods Hall.” He paused a moment, “And you, my lady, may be the longest absent of all. A mage of R’Hath is a rare sight indeed in Welford. You are searching for our Green Witch, no doubt? I here she’s flown away again.” “Thank you, Prior Korin.” Alaria answered. “We have already met with her. I am Alaria Staver of Ablidon. This is Hilltender Haelan Spurthistle and Goldshield Coerraine.” Alaria paused for a moment realizing she could not recall Coerraine’s surname. Something for later, she thought. “We are simply passing through. We have been on a long journey. I had not even considered that the festival of Bysdan would be so close.” she said. “Ah yes, my dear.” Prior Korin answered. “Only two days time and so much to do. If there is not anything specific I can help you with, I invite you to use whatever altars you require. Each has a bowl for offerings and donations as you, good folk, see fit.” He smiled kindly. “I should get back to instructing my young hands, here.” “If I may, Prior,” Haelan jumped in politely, “I thought the priests of Sylari did not worship indoors?” The old man chuckled and nodded, “And you would be correct, friend Hilltender. I do not conduct rituals here, but as the senior priest and administrator of the Hall, it is one of my thankful duties to see it made ready for those who will.” Korin leaned towards Haelan and added a hushed aside, “We are not forbidden to [I]be[/I] indoors, merely to practice our rites.” He gave the starry-eyed halfling a wink. “Prior Korin,” Coerraine now injected, “I am sorry to keep you, but how many priests do you oversee?” The paladin wished to make no insult but was very much hoping there was more than the old man and three youths in town. Korin thought for a moment before responding. “Well, that’s an odd question. You can see there is myself. Bern and Shek, ” he gestured to the to young men in brown robes, “aid me in the service of Sylari though they are not near priests yet, themselves.” He raised his staff toward the young man in the green tunic, “Tortham, here, is a devotee of the Minstrel. His mentor is the ranking priest of Bysdan in these parts, Harper Cressden. It is he who shall host the festival and necessary rites.” The old man stopped again and thought. “There’s Brother Berk of Sorilorr, Protectress Kaylie, their attendants…others come and go as their gods see fit...I suppose we are twelve of us, all told. Though only we four seniors are initiated for rites. Why do you ask?” Coerraine seemed unsure how to answer, “How many of you are of spellcasting rank?” he said bluntly. The Prior seemed taken aback by this inquiry. Alaria quickly interjected, “If we may, Prior, might we have a private word?” The Prior’s face turned grave, but he nodded and with a few instructions to the young men to continue their work led the three party members through a door to the side of the dais which led to a small room. It held a table and some shelves filled with candlesticks, incense burners and various other items that could be used in religious rites. Haelan was particularly enamored of a rack on which hung an array of robes, mantles, cowls and cloaks. They were, to Haelan’s mind, all of the colors of the rainbow, aligned in descending order, reds to oranges to yellows and so on. Alaria explained the possible impending situation. Prior Korin listened, little shock was bretrayed on his face. He stroked his beard nervously as they finished their tale. “Hmm. Grave news indeed. I am certain Brethel would be sending me word of this shortly.” The prior frowned a bit then continued, “To answer your question, Goldshield, it sounds as though only myself, Harper Cressden and Protectress Kaylie might be of use. Kaylie’s attendants might prove useful for healing,” he raised a hand, palm outward, fingers outstretched, and placed it to his forehead, “gods forbid it be necessary.” He lowered his hand back to grasp his staff. “But as you well know, the Daughters of Gilea will not fight. Only their chosen Protectresses are permitted to bare arms or do harm to others.” Coerraine nodded his knowing agreement. The Daughters of Gilea were prevalent in his homeland of Mostrial. The skills of the Daughters’ healing, both natural and magical, were well known to him. He was also familiar with the ferocity and devotion of Gilea’s chosen ones for the sacred position of ‘Protectress.’ He thought back to his youth and the Protectress who had tutored him in various forms of non-lethal battle at his father’s keep. It was before he had felt the calling of Celradorn, but she had been an amazingly skilled instructor. “And what of Brother…Berk, was it?” Haelan asked. “Ah, well. Berk is a skilled scribe and wise priest. Very knowledgeable, as the servants of Sorilorr are want to be. He and the Green Witch are good friends, actually, and often philosophize for hours. Oh my yes.” The prior chuckled a bit before recalling what he had originally been starting to say. “But I fear his spellcraft would not serve our cause if war were to come to Welford. “And I confess, I am a bit old to be very useful, myself. ” the Prior voice trailed off, “The stag only rules til the next, after all.” <Sylarian proverb, basically meaning he was past his prime. The younger more vigorous males replace the old or feeble.> Alaria thought on this for a moment. “Prior, where might we find Brother Berk at this time?” “I suppose he is back at the rectory. Right behind us here, across the park. He spends almost all of his time in the library there in his writing and study.” Prior Korin answered. “Our thanks, Prior. Let us hope that none need use their divine power in the coming days for anything but fun and frolic as the Minstrel of Autumn would wish. We’ll keep you no longer from your tasks.” Alaria answered. “The Golden Leaf bless us you are right, my dear.” The Prior replied. “My tasks now include meeting with the other senior priests and informing them of this news.” He bade them good day and showed them back to the main hall and went back to his decorating. “No, no, Shek. The acorn boughs should be used to strew the chandeliers. Bring them down, and replace the candles while we’re at it. Tortham! Should I tell Harper Cressden that he need be here to ensure your participation?” The young man in the green tunic leapt up from where he had been lounging, absently plucking notes on his harp to help the brown-robed Shek lower the large chandeliers. The three adventurers returned through the Gods Hall. Coerraine stopped for some prayer in Celradorn’s alcove. Alaria, to Haelan’s surprise, entered the alcove of Manat, threw a few coins into the charity dish and bowed her head. The magess, Alaria, said a silent prayer of thanks to the goddess of magic for the safe completion of her errand, the completion of her apprenticeship and the fulfillment of becoming her own woman. Haelan watched as the acolytes continued about their decorating, smiling to himself. When the paladin and wizard returned from their alcoves, the three went around the back of the Gods Hall and across a rectangular nicely manicured lawn lined with silverleaf trees, now plumed in violet leaves, some beginning to fall and scatter across the grass. Across the lawn stood another stone building, this one two stories, long and narrow with narrow tall windows on both levels. The shale tiling on the roof a mixture of cool greys and blues. An arched double doorway of reddish wood with black iron fittings faced “the park.” Alaria headed for the rectory with Coerraine and Haelan in questioning tow. [I][B]Next up, "Brothers, Baubles and Black Skies"[/B][/I] [/QUOTE]
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