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<blockquote data-quote="Hjorimir" data-source="post: 1412719" data-attributes="member: 5745"><p><strong>2 - Choices, Choices</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>Ermione, Arlies</strong></p><p><strong>The Cathedral of St. Gilles</strong></p><p>The Most Reverend Clément Rousseau, Bishop of Ermione, sat considering the writ, his brow furrowing, as the warming sun poured through the windows of the solar upon his cathedra. Gervais, the bishop’s Vicair, stood patiently before him in a simple black cassock and holy symbol bearing the Open Hand of Æhü. Catching the Bishop’s eye, Gervais gave a friendly smile to the aged bishop whom he served.</p><p></p><p>“What news, Your Excellency?”</p><p></p><p>As always, Clément answered while adhering to proper form of address. “His Royal Highness, the Prince of Arlies, is being appealed to end trouble within Darion’s March, has pressed Archbishop Vespasien for the aid of the Mother Church. It is my see that will answer that request.”</p><p></p><p>Gervais cleared his throat before asking, “Aid? What troubles could be so great within an eastern frontier some one-thousand miles distant to be brought to the attention of Arlies?” </p><p></p><p>“The northern tribes have been marauding settlements along the Great Road,” Clément answered leaning forward in his chair. “There have been many deaths as a result, orcs knowing little in the ways of mercy.”</p><p></p><p>Gervais nodded slowly as he pondered the news. “While the Church certainly has an obligation to tend to those in suffering, it is an interesting notion that Édouard is concerned with such events. Most of his trade is freight by sea to the city-states. The impact on his economy, if any, would be positive.”</p><p></p><p>“True, though some of the Maqess nobles hold land interests within the March. Not that he is particularly worried about them. No, he has ‘requested’ a ‘conservative’ investigation into the ‘validity’ of these attacks.”</p><p></p><p>The vicair nodded in understanding. “Enough to show face but not so much as to actually resolve the issue. Which raises a question as to what the Ainurians are doing about the situation. They rely upon the security of the Great Road for their own trade and surely have a vested interest.”</p><p></p><p>“I am led to understand that clergy under the Aspect of Merlutat have left Aran’Arth to administer last rites,” Clément replied. “Undoubtedly they will proceed with their own cautious investigation. Unfortunately, that will give the time needed for Tol’Cathul to respond giving strength to the Quinterion heterodoxy, a faith that already has a growing influence in central Emoria, which disturbs me.”</p><p></p><p>“Édouard has placed us in a predicament,” Gervais said, finally understanding. “By dictating the strength of the Mother Church’s response he will make the orthodoxy appear weak in its commitment to the March. This, in turn, will strengthen the proselytization movement of the Quinterion Faith with his own nobles and subsequently weaken Æhüthian influence here in southern Rone. He has given us little time to respond. I will prepare at once and should be able to leave upon the morrow.”</p><p></p><p>“No, sending a member of the Magisterium is not the solution here…even a Prelate such as yourself. The Preceptory should be involved. Send word to the Cyrdion Motherhouse explaining the orthodoxy’s need in the March. The Preceptor should send somebody who can set a proper example of Æhüthian strength whilst maintaining all forms of propriety. Perhaps Sur Renard would be able to attend to this,” Clément suggested.</p><p></p><p>“Sur Renard is on pilgrimage to Edrion, I’m afraid.”</p><p></p><p>The bishop nodded. “A champion of the church would have been preferred. But I can hardly condemn Renard for fulfilling his duties. Sur Thierry should be able to make our presence known. He is quite capable and well mannered.”</p><p></p><p>“Unfortunately, Thierry is on mission to the Hiemalmark. Something about a troll attacking a group of Vascinian friars working there to bring enlightenment to the Fjoti barbarians,” Gervais responded with a frown.</p><p></p><p>Clément sighed and rubbed his temples. “Sur Armel will have to do. He’s a bit young…” the vicair interrupted with a shaking of the head. “Has my see been left without the service of our knights?”</p><p></p><p>“Pressing times, Your Excellency, but not quite as bad as that. Sur Étienne could be sent. He’s highly trained,” Gervais offered.</p><p></p><p>“While Étienne is indeed a favored knight, he lacks the perspective of the Church, nor is he a very capable diplomat.”</p><p></p><p>“Perhaps Sur Adrien would be appropriate,” Gervais suggested in earnest. “There is sure to be bloodshed involved and he can protect himself.”</p><p></p><p>“While I’m sure that Adrien would be sure to protect himself, it is the protection of the March I’m concerned with,” The bishop responded with the noticeable lack of honorific for the knight. “I’m not entirely convinced he is the right kind of man for the Preceptory as it is. No, I don’t want him out of my sight.”</p><p></p><p>Gervais clasped his hands behind his back and strolled a bit as he thought on the matter. “I think I know a knight who can achieve our goals.”</p><p></p><p>The bishop looked up in anticipation, “Yes?”</p><p></p><p>“Sur Trevier.”</p><p></p><p>“Who?”</p><p></p><p>“Sur Trevier,” Gervais repeated as if the words would hold more meaning the second time. “The one with a pleasant voice.”</p><p></p><p>Clément nodded remembering the man, “Trevier has at least a year’s study left if I recall correctly. He is still a novitiate, Gervais.”</p><p></p><p>“Actually his catechesis was completed during this past High Fading. I understand that Preceptor Bastien considers him an exemplar within their order.”</p><p></p><p>“May I remind you the importance of this task? We must evince to the March the strength and benefits of the Mother Church.”</p><p></p><p>The vicair nodded in agreement, “Sur Trevier, while very young, shows amazing promise. Not only is he quite capable in a martial capacity, he is well spoken and shows remarkable empathy for a knight.”</p><p></p><p>Clément leaned back in his chair and considered the vicair’s proposition. “Convey my blessings on his impending success in the March.”</p><p></p><p>“At once, Your Excellency.” Gervais kissed the bishop’s seal and turned to depart.</p><p></p><p>“And, Gervais, keep in contact with him via ‘sending’ to keep me appraised of his progress.”</p><p></p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p></p><p><strong>The Soulwells</strong></p><p>Melhaer prepared the conduit as he considered the Orders of the Prince he now served. The devil was well versed in the skills of deception. But the machinations of his master reached to denouements beyond his own considerable prescience. Not wishing to bring the wrath of his master, he quickly slipped into the transitive reality of the Vacuum and proceeded to translocate to the X’tromgaht.</p><p></p><p>The X’tromgaht was the single known point of ingression to the Umbra of the axial reality cluster. It lay within the skull cavity of a long, forgotten body of a dead god left floating amid the emptiness of the nether. Five umbral sentinels of significant power guarded access to the portal. Melhaer was underwhelmed.</p><p></p><p>In a manner that dared confrontation from the guardians, the pit fiend dropped five soulmotes upon the calcified floor (the price for access) as he strode towards the whirling darkness of the portal. As the soulmotes hit the floor, the sentinels moved with a blur to greedily collect their sustenance.</p><p></p><p>With practiced evasion, dark fey scurried away as the fiend manifested within the umbra. Melhaer looked to the sacrificial cages the fey kept hanging nearby and recouped his expenses by reducing six of the inhabitants to ash and collecting their soulmotes. Melhaer grinned. Profit.</p><p></p><p>Melhaer tossed his newfound profit at a navigator mage that stood nearby waiting to serve. “The Ermione border,” the devil said simply.</p><p></p><p>It didn’t take long to find a suitably tainted soul to use as an intermediary, as a particularly vile sneak thief presented himself, unknowingly, into his view. With proficiency honed from eons of practice, Melhaer gleefully slid into the man’s body and laughed as the he regurgitate his evening meal and begin to shake with cold sweat.</p><p></p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p></p><p>Twenty minutes later, the thief was standing in the bedroom of his target. “Awaken.”</p><p></p><p>The man in bed sat up with a start. He trembled as he peered into the shadows beyond the light of Merlutat’s moon at the dark silhouette.</p><p></p><p>“It is time for your master’s recompense,” the shadow said with a sneer.</p><p></p><p>“Master?” Slowly, a look of realization took over, “Who…wait…no…it is too soon!”</p><p></p><p>The thief stepped into the sickly, yellow moonlight, giving his face a deathly countenance. Yet his eyes showed the reflections of softly glowing flame as he leaned towards the man, “The Asperser stirs. He Commands thus…”</p><p></p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p></p><p>Melhaer awakened the thief’s perceptions enough to look upon the bodies of the freshly slain. Faint screams echoed through the fog of his mind.</p><p></p><p>[Why have you killed them?]</p><p></p><p>The devil chortled, [Me? You.]</p><p></p><p>[I don’t understand.]</p><p></p><p>[Because suffering is pleasing.]</p><p></p><p>[My suffering?]</p><p></p><p>[All suffering.]</p><p></p><p>[Mercy, I beg of you!]</p><p></p><p>[That is not within my purview. Witness.]</p><p></p><p>Melhaer released his grip on the soul of the thief as the wrathful husband attacked, tears of rage and pain in his eyes. The attack was fierce, extremely proficient and took a long time to complete. </p><p></p><p>The outcome was never in doubt.</p><p></p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p></p><p><strong>Outside Ermione, Arlies</strong></p><p><strong>The Cyrdion Motherhouse</strong></p><p>Sur Trevier was kneeling and quietly whispering prayers within the Oratory when Chaplain Gaétan came in kneeled beside the young knight and joined in prayer.</p><p></p><p>When they were finished, they exchanged knowing smiles. “You were ‘praying aloud’ again, Brother Trevier,” the chaplain stated.</p><p></p><p>Trevier nodded in admission of guilt, “What shall my penance be, Brother Gaétan”</p><p></p><p>“You’re too quick to accept penance,” the elder laughed. “Of all our brotherhood, you spend more time in here.”</p><p></p><p>“Except you,” Trevier countered.</p><p></p><p>Gaétan smiled. “Well, it comes with the job…call it an occupational hazard.”</p><p></p><p>Trevier frowned, “Hazard?”</p><p></p><p>“Oh, come now, don’t read anything into it. I was only going to comment on what a beautiful day it was outside. Æhü went to all the trouble of making such a magnificent sun for us to enjoy. We’d be lacking in our duties to not appreciate it from time to time, no?”</p><p></p><p>The two friends shared a laugh as they made their way out into the bailey.</p><p></p><p>“Preceptor Bastien wishes to speak with you, Trevier.”</p><p></p><p>“Have I done something wrong?”</p><p></p><p>“Of course not. No, I think that Bishop Clément has requested a knight for something important.”</p><p></p><p>Trevier’s tongue rolled around the words slowly, “A knight?” His anointment having just taken place the month prior he was still in the process of accepting his new status within the Preceptory arm of the Mother Church.</p><p></p><p>“Well, you, to be specific. Vicair Gervais is here as we speak. Let’s not keep them waiting any longer than we already have,” Gaétan gestured towards the direction of the hall.</p><p></p><p>The two entered the hall amid an ongoing discussion between the Preceptor and Vicair. “…as his confessor I shall be the one to dictate castigation in this case. Ah, Sur Trevier,” Gervais turned. “Let me say the Mother Church is most pleased with your rapid ascent into the Cyrdion Order. We expect great things from you.”</p><p></p><p>Trevier bowed to the vicair, “Thank you, Father Aiton.”</p><p></p><p>“The Mother Church has need of you. Will you answer?”</p><p></p><p>“With all my being.”</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p><strong>Pronunciation Guide</strong></p><p>Adrien, Sur (ad-ree-AWN)</p><p>Clément Rousseau, Bishop of Ermione (klay-MAWN)</p><p>Édouard, Prince (ay-DWAR)</p><p>Étienne, Sur (ay-TYEN)</p><p>Gervais Aiton, Vicair (zher-VAY)</p><p>Melhaer (mel-HAYR)</p><p>Renard, Sur (re-NAR)</p><p>Thierry, Sur (tye-REE)</p><p>Trevier, Sur (TREV-ee-ae)</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Hjorimir, post: 1412719, member: 5745"] [b]2 - Choices, Choices Ermione, Arlies The Cathedral of St. Gilles[/b] The Most Reverend Clément Rousseau, Bishop of Ermione, sat considering the writ, his brow furrowing, as the warming sun poured through the windows of the solar upon his cathedra. Gervais, the bishop’s Vicair, stood patiently before him in a simple black cassock and holy symbol bearing the Open Hand of Æhü. Catching the Bishop’s eye, Gervais gave a friendly smile to the aged bishop whom he served. “What news, Your Excellency?” As always, Clément answered while adhering to proper form of address. “His Royal Highness, the Prince of Arlies, is being appealed to end trouble within Darion’s March, has pressed Archbishop Vespasien for the aid of the Mother Church. It is my see that will answer that request.” Gervais cleared his throat before asking, “Aid? What troubles could be so great within an eastern frontier some one-thousand miles distant to be brought to the attention of Arlies?” “The northern tribes have been marauding settlements along the Great Road,” Clément answered leaning forward in his chair. “There have been many deaths as a result, orcs knowing little in the ways of mercy.” Gervais nodded slowly as he pondered the news. “While the Church certainly has an obligation to tend to those in suffering, it is an interesting notion that Édouard is concerned with such events. Most of his trade is freight by sea to the city-states. The impact on his economy, if any, would be positive.” “True, though some of the Maqess nobles hold land interests within the March. Not that he is particularly worried about them. No, he has ‘requested’ a ‘conservative’ investigation into the ‘validity’ of these attacks.” The vicair nodded in understanding. “Enough to show face but not so much as to actually resolve the issue. Which raises a question as to what the Ainurians are doing about the situation. They rely upon the security of the Great Road for their own trade and surely have a vested interest.” “I am led to understand that clergy under the Aspect of Merlutat have left Aran’Arth to administer last rites,” Clément replied. “Undoubtedly they will proceed with their own cautious investigation. Unfortunately, that will give the time needed for Tol’Cathul to respond giving strength to the Quinterion heterodoxy, a faith that already has a growing influence in central Emoria, which disturbs me.” “Édouard has placed us in a predicament,” Gervais said, finally understanding. “By dictating the strength of the Mother Church’s response he will make the orthodoxy appear weak in its commitment to the March. This, in turn, will strengthen the proselytization movement of the Quinterion Faith with his own nobles and subsequently weaken Æhüthian influence here in southern Rone. He has given us little time to respond. I will prepare at once and should be able to leave upon the morrow.” “No, sending a member of the Magisterium is not the solution here…even a Prelate such as yourself. The Preceptory should be involved. Send word to the Cyrdion Motherhouse explaining the orthodoxy’s need in the March. The Preceptor should send somebody who can set a proper example of Æhüthian strength whilst maintaining all forms of propriety. Perhaps Sur Renard would be able to attend to this,” Clément suggested. “Sur Renard is on pilgrimage to Edrion, I’m afraid.” The bishop nodded. “A champion of the church would have been preferred. But I can hardly condemn Renard for fulfilling his duties. Sur Thierry should be able to make our presence known. He is quite capable and well mannered.” “Unfortunately, Thierry is on mission to the Hiemalmark. Something about a troll attacking a group of Vascinian friars working there to bring enlightenment to the Fjoti barbarians,” Gervais responded with a frown. Clément sighed and rubbed his temples. “Sur Armel will have to do. He’s a bit young…” the vicair interrupted with a shaking of the head. “Has my see been left without the service of our knights?” “Pressing times, Your Excellency, but not quite as bad as that. Sur Étienne could be sent. He’s highly trained,” Gervais offered. “While Étienne is indeed a favored knight, he lacks the perspective of the Church, nor is he a very capable diplomat.” “Perhaps Sur Adrien would be appropriate,” Gervais suggested in earnest. “There is sure to be bloodshed involved and he can protect himself.” “While I’m sure that Adrien would be sure to protect himself, it is the protection of the March I’m concerned with,” The bishop responded with the noticeable lack of honorific for the knight. “I’m not entirely convinced he is the right kind of man for the Preceptory as it is. No, I don’t want him out of my sight.” Gervais clasped his hands behind his back and strolled a bit as he thought on the matter. “I think I know a knight who can achieve our goals.” The bishop looked up in anticipation, “Yes?” “Sur Trevier.” “Who?” “Sur Trevier,” Gervais repeated as if the words would hold more meaning the second time. “The one with a pleasant voice.” Clément nodded remembering the man, “Trevier has at least a year’s study left if I recall correctly. He is still a novitiate, Gervais.” “Actually his catechesis was completed during this past High Fading. I understand that Preceptor Bastien considers him an exemplar within their order.” “May I remind you the importance of this task? We must evince to the March the strength and benefits of the Mother Church.” The vicair nodded in agreement, “Sur Trevier, while very young, shows amazing promise. Not only is he quite capable in a martial capacity, he is well spoken and shows remarkable empathy for a knight.” Clément leaned back in his chair and considered the vicair’s proposition. “Convey my blessings on his impending success in the March.” “At once, Your Excellency.” Gervais kissed the bishop’s seal and turned to depart. “And, Gervais, keep in contact with him via ‘sending’ to keep me appraised of his progress.” *** [b]The Soulwells[/b] Melhaer prepared the conduit as he considered the Orders of the Prince he now served. The devil was well versed in the skills of deception. But the machinations of his master reached to denouements beyond his own considerable prescience. Not wishing to bring the wrath of his master, he quickly slipped into the transitive reality of the Vacuum and proceeded to translocate to the X’tromgaht. The X’tromgaht was the single known point of ingression to the Umbra of the axial reality cluster. It lay within the skull cavity of a long, forgotten body of a dead god left floating amid the emptiness of the nether. Five umbral sentinels of significant power guarded access to the portal. Melhaer was underwhelmed. In a manner that dared confrontation from the guardians, the pit fiend dropped five soulmotes upon the calcified floor (the price for access) as he strode towards the whirling darkness of the portal. As the soulmotes hit the floor, the sentinels moved with a blur to greedily collect their sustenance. With practiced evasion, dark fey scurried away as the fiend manifested within the umbra. Melhaer looked to the sacrificial cages the fey kept hanging nearby and recouped his expenses by reducing six of the inhabitants to ash and collecting their soulmotes. Melhaer grinned. Profit. Melhaer tossed his newfound profit at a navigator mage that stood nearby waiting to serve. “The Ermione border,” the devil said simply. It didn’t take long to find a suitably tainted soul to use as an intermediary, as a particularly vile sneak thief presented himself, unknowingly, into his view. With proficiency honed from eons of practice, Melhaer gleefully slid into the man’s body and laughed as the he regurgitate his evening meal and begin to shake with cold sweat. *** Twenty minutes later, the thief was standing in the bedroom of his target. “Awaken.” The man in bed sat up with a start. He trembled as he peered into the shadows beyond the light of Merlutat’s moon at the dark silhouette. “It is time for your master’s recompense,” the shadow said with a sneer. “Master?” Slowly, a look of realization took over, “Who…wait…no…it is too soon!” The thief stepped into the sickly, yellow moonlight, giving his face a deathly countenance. Yet his eyes showed the reflections of softly glowing flame as he leaned towards the man, “The Asperser stirs. He Commands thus…” *** Melhaer awakened the thief’s perceptions enough to look upon the bodies of the freshly slain. Faint screams echoed through the fog of his mind. [Why have you killed them?] The devil chortled, [Me? You.] [I don’t understand.] [Because suffering is pleasing.] [My suffering?] [All suffering.] [Mercy, I beg of you!] [That is not within my purview. Witness.] Melhaer released his grip on the soul of the thief as the wrathful husband attacked, tears of rage and pain in his eyes. The attack was fierce, extremely proficient and took a long time to complete. The outcome was never in doubt. *** [b]Outside Ermione, Arlies The Cyrdion Motherhouse[/b] Sur Trevier was kneeling and quietly whispering prayers within the Oratory when Chaplain Gaétan came in kneeled beside the young knight and joined in prayer. When they were finished, they exchanged knowing smiles. “You were ‘praying aloud’ again, Brother Trevier,” the chaplain stated. Trevier nodded in admission of guilt, “What shall my penance be, Brother Gaétan” “You’re too quick to accept penance,” the elder laughed. “Of all our brotherhood, you spend more time in here.” “Except you,” Trevier countered. Gaétan smiled. “Well, it comes with the job…call it an occupational hazard.” Trevier frowned, “Hazard?” “Oh, come now, don’t read anything into it. I was only going to comment on what a beautiful day it was outside. Æhü went to all the trouble of making such a magnificent sun for us to enjoy. We’d be lacking in our duties to not appreciate it from time to time, no?” The two friends shared a laugh as they made their way out into the bailey. “Preceptor Bastien wishes to speak with you, Trevier.” “Have I done something wrong?” “Of course not. No, I think that Bishop Clément has requested a knight for something important.” Trevier’s tongue rolled around the words slowly, “A knight?” His anointment having just taken place the month prior he was still in the process of accepting his new status within the Preceptory arm of the Mother Church. “Well, you, to be specific. Vicair Gervais is here as we speak. Let’s not keep them waiting any longer than we already have,” Gaétan gestured towards the direction of the hall. The two entered the hall amid an ongoing discussion between the Preceptor and Vicair. “…as his confessor I shall be the one to dictate castigation in this case. Ah, Sur Trevier,” Gervais turned. “Let me say the Mother Church is most pleased with your rapid ascent into the Cyrdion Order. We expect great things from you.” Trevier bowed to the vicair, “Thank you, Father Aiton.” “The Mother Church has need of you. Will you answer?” “With all my being.” *** [b]Pronunciation Guide[/b] Adrien, Sur (ad-ree-AWN) Clément Rousseau, Bishop of Ermione (klay-MAWN) Édouard, Prince (ay-DWAR) Étienne, Sur (ay-TYEN) Gervais Aiton, Vicair (zher-VAY) Melhaer (mel-HAYR) Renard, Sur (re-NAR) Thierry, Sur (tye-REE) Trevier, Sur (TREV-ee-ae) [/QUOTE]
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