"Concentrate Daniel.  You have already learned to make my muscles flinch.  This is different.  You must learn to make them sabatoge me.  It is not the now.  It is learning to make them fail me over and over again if they must."

Runt squints open an eye.  Norla sits across the altar from Runt, her hands held out, grasping his, her eyes closed as if leading him with her own concentration.

"And will it be so!"  Norla says with emphasis, and Runt shutters his eyes closed in a moment and focuses his everything into this new spell.

All things considered, the last two months had been very good for Runt.  In his mind, he tried to list off the things that had changed for him in this rather short period of time.  First, he wasn't sleeping outside.  Second, he had managed three square meals a day.  Third, Deng hadn't bothered him even once since he had resided in three corners, though he had to admit he missed the guards, the dock workers, and occasionally even an encounter with the Beggar Queen and the sympathy that he had engendered.

Though things were no doubt better overall, Runt had to admit there were things he missed.  Norla fed him, taught him, and provided him company... however she simply wasn't kind.  It wasn't something that Runt was used to in large doses, but he noticed that here in Three Corners there didn't seem to be anyone who really filled the void of kindness, something that at least here and there he could look forward to in Craine.

"That's something."  Norla intones, though the measure of her voice does not seem to actually be impressed.  Realizing he was already distracted, Runt puts everything he has into the spell he already knows and attempts to cast not just in the moment, but over and over again!

Before Norla has the chance to react again, the door in the small chapel opens behind Runt, and he turns quickly to get a peek.

It's Leo at the door.

Though Runt does not fear Leo, nor does he think the man has some vendetta against him, Runt has learned that the man has little patience for his presence.  With little more than a halfhearted excuse, Runt shoots up to his feet and darts towards the back of the small chapel, snapping shut the door before the soldier has even taken a few steps in the room.

"Practice."  Norla says without much conviction as Runt disappears.

"Why in the world did you take in that child?"  Runt can hear Leo ask through the flimsy doorway.

Runt sits down in the small backroom, keeping himself close enough to the doorway to hear the conversation from the other side.  Not that there is much room here to go anywhere else.  Of the two small rooms at the back of the chapel, one serves as a bedroom and living space for Norla and Celeste, the other, which Runt is sitting in now, serves a dual function as a storage closet and his own living spaces, his small bundle of blankets tucked between a wardrobe filled with religious robes and stoles and a bureau of linens and the like for decoration of the altar.

"He's clever..."  Norla's response is simple and direct.  Her words clipped and without any hint of defensiveness.  "He's moldable, he has magical talent.  In the past two months he's learned how to read and memorized near the entire bible.  Why should I have not taken him in?"

"He has not memorized the entire bible."  Leo shoots back, though he seems to be offering a counterpoint rather than arguing.  "Memorization implies some understanding.  He still doesn't know half the words, let alone what any of it means."  Leo grumbles something under his breath.

"Patience never was your strong suit."  Norla responds, and Runt can imagine the lazy, stoic smile she uses so often with him.

"I just wish he was of some use.  He seems to be draining all of your energies and offering nothing back."

"Give it time."  Norla responds.  "Have you made any progress with Broskow?"

"Not nearly enough for the effort."  Leo nearly spits the answer as if it had been a sour taste in his mouth.  "The man's obsessed with himself and he can't be made to see reason, let alone God's will.  Not to mention he keeps that damnable retainer beside him day and night now who seems to only feed his worst insecurities.  Every day he manufactures some existential crisis with the duchy or else that pittance of a fort."

"Do you think he'll fall in with Lord Magnus's plan?"

"He'll have to."  Leo responds quickly.  "Whether he wants to or not.  Our people now make up more than half of this town, and those that aren't ours seem to be leaving rather than coming.  Speaking of which, Hashmal sends word from Craine that he's made some headway with recruiting.  Not ours, but at least men of God, people who won't be tempted to take sides with that madman should he decide to start the wrong war."

"That's something."  Norla says, and Runt notices the same lack of conviction that he had recognized when she had used the words about his own spell casting.  "When did..."

But whatever Norla was going to add is interrupted by another, new voice which has suddenly cuts across everything.

"I need to pray father!  It will not wait!..  What?"

"Perhaps a little more patience could be of some use?  Are you new here?"  Runt recognized the slight cold turn in Leo's voice and unable to restrain himself, he peers his head around the doorframe, staring as best he can through the tiny slit between the door and the jamb.

Two men have just walked in.  The first just barely a man, perhaps a boy of sixteen or seventeen, though already larger than most men.  He holds a staff in his hands, wears a blue tabard with a cross and a shield displayed over his heart.  The boys face is flush with an angry red.

The man behind him is a bear of a man.  Taller even than Leo, the man's chest, arms and torso flare out with muscles.  There's no doubt for Runt the man's biceps are larger than his whole body around.  This one seems calmer, though a sword is draped about his waist.

"Daniel!"  Norla calls.  "Come greet our guests!"

OOC:  It is 1100 on the 9th of March.

Whew!  Sorry for the length, and even sorrier for leaving everyone in a position where the initiative is on all of you.  Present in the room are Porter, Agador, Leo, and Norla.  Runt is hiding away in a backroom, but is soon to come out (if he wants to be a part of the thread).  No need to feel obligated to take any particular action, if you just wait longer then I'll keep things moving by using Agador and Leo.

The Chapel is about 50 feet long by 20 feet wide, it has a single row of pews taking up most of the space from the entrance forward, with a single altar at the back.  The decorations include a large cross hanging behind the altar, as well as some paintings and other paraphernalia that Runt will recognize from the Caves of Chaos.

Runt, Roll vs. Will.  If you succeed, you gain 1 CP in the clumsiness spell.

Porter, you just now got into town with your son and the first thing he has done is dragged you to the chapel.  You came to three corners both because of the issues you were having in Craine, as well as because you heard rumored promises that "Men of God" held power here in Three Corners.

Let me know if you have any questions.

Runt tried to concentrate on the new spell that Mistress Norla was attempting to teach him.  Magic was harder than he would have ever thought.  He didn’t have much trouble remembering the words and gestures he was shown, though he did often need to see them several times before having them down.  And it only took a bit of practice for him to say the unfamiliar words (very unfamiliar), and some were real tongue twisters.  The gestures were easy to do, with a little practice.  He figured that the ease that he played instruments might have something to do with that.  But what was hard was opening himself to take in the Mana.  It seemed to elude him much of the time.  He had to really concentrate on just that to get it to work.  He just needed to practice, practice, practice!

He thought he almost had it, he could feel the flow of mana beginning when Master Leo entered the chapel, interrupting the session.  With that as an excuse, he scampered to his room in the back of the chapel.  It wasn’t that he was afraid of Leo, but he had quickly figured out that the man had no use for him being around and didn’t seem to like the amount of time Mistress Norla spent teaching him.

He sat down in the room by the door and began to practice as instructed, though keeping one ear cocked towards the door in case the two adults talked about something interesting.  For his practice, he tried opening his Sight, as it was called, to see the magical auras.  Mistress Norla had said that practicing the Sight was the safest way for him to learn to be receptive to mana.  When he was able to use his Sight, he could actually See magic with his eyes.  He wondered if it would be possible to Hear magic as well as See it.  That would be something he might ask Mistress Norla about, or maybe he would just try it first.

His musing and listening to the adults conversation stopped abruptly when their conversation was interrupted by the sudden entrance to the chapel of two men.  Well one man and one almost a man, though younger was larger than most men and the other was even bigger, bigger than most of the champions he had seen in the arena.  He was staring at the man’s arms, big around as his waist, when he was called by Mistress Norla to come out and greet the newcomers.

He scrambled to his feet and walked out to the main room, his hands clasped in front of him.

“Greetings good sirs and welcome to this humble chapel,” he said a bit slowly, carefully pronouncing the words in what he hoped was the correct manner, another thing that Mistress Norla had been teaching him.

As they walked the great south road to the edge of Megalos itself it gave Porter time to think.  He mulled over the last six months, over and over too much he began to think.  Had he done the right thing in leaving town?  Were these not sinners?  If left alone would they not bring ill and violence to others with Porter's absence leaving a vacuum?  With calming reason the ex-soldier reminds himself he is but a tool in the service of the Lord, not the judge, jury and executioner.  But it was true that Mokal was getting more reckless, more emotional in his crazed quest for vengeance.  And emotional men with few limits are highly dangerous men.  Porter chances a stare at his son.  Agador has changed so much since back then, grown from a soft boy into a hard young man.  Almost marriage age now.  His mother wouldn't recognize him if she were alive to see him.

It had been some time since he received a visit.  Vision is what others called them, usually priests.  Or dreams.  Or drug fueled hallucinations.  Or occasionally, some called it insanity.  But they couldn't feel it as he could.  They couldn't hear his words, be in his presence.   Then about a week before reaching Three Corners he came to see Porter and warned him of an evil ahead.  The big man asked questions, as he always does and typical of his mentor he answered but the information was vague and only led to more unanswered questions.

Porter wasn't exactly certain what he was going to find upon arriving in Three Corners.  He was hoping for a church as big as the grand cathedral in Craine and a sprawling barracks and training ground.  Practice, work and prayer were in order but not necessarily in that order.  But when the sight of the small church comes into view the big man quietly contains his disappointment as his son drags him inside.

His son, still sometimes impulsive and rash bursts through the doors drawing the attention of two priests, more specifically a priestess and a, bishop perhaps?  Porter smiles, relieved that while the church is small and sparse they have not skimped on the staff.  The woman speaks inviting someone out to the meet the newcomers.  Porter thinks it impressive, the church boasts a third priest?

Then she turns to face them, and the big man freezes.  He is stunned by the woman's beauty.  While she doesn't look like his late wife there have been few over the recent years who could capture the raw femininity of being a woman such as Lasan did.  Now struck by the softness, her sensual curves, the pouting pink lips Porter is overwhelmed by a torrent of memories that flood his mind of his late wife. Memories he has worked so hard to forget lest they bring back pain.

The big man shakes off the temporary charm, grateful that the focus had been on his loud mouth son and grateful for the sense of ease which he feels at being amongst friends of the faith.  Porter continues walking towards the back of the small building.  ”Please, forgive my son's impatience.  We've been on the road for some time and grown weary.  Its silly but the lack of the hot meal, hot bath and soft bed can try a mans patience.  Yes, we've just arrived from Craine.  I'm Porter.  This is my son Agador.”

And then the boy enters the room and again the big man freezes.  His youngest son, his poor boy, would have been about this age when he met that horrific fate.  Seeing this boy is like a mule kick to the belly, it jolts him through and through and sends another flood of memories of his boy along with emotions.  However the ex-soldier pulls himself together, he wouldn't want these nice people to think him crazy.  There's plenty of time for that later once they get him talking about Agador's training he muses to himself.  Porter nods to the boy and smiles.  ”Thank you young man.  A most kind welcome.”


OOC:
Bah.  Never apologize for the length.  It creates a rich scene and background even if Porter missed half of it, and gives me plenty to react to.  I have a feeling he'll find out in time.

Edit:  When I wrote the above Runt hadn't yet posted. So I went back and edited mine to reflect his post.

This message was last edited by the player at 05:54, Mon 08 May 2023.

A smile flashed briefly across Runt's face at Master Porter's words.  That was possibly the nicest thing that had been said to him in the past two months.  He wasn't sure how he should address him, or his son Agador for that matter, so for now he would be silent unless prompted.  He did carefully study both faces to see if he could recall either of them from Craine.  He knew that was where they were from, even if Master Porter hadn't said so.  The accent gave it away.


OOC - Sorry to have been so long on my replying, Sunday turned busier than expected.  This thread has some serious potential, not even considering the possible crazed assassin that just might be after Runt!  ;-)

"From Craine?"  Leo asks, sending his eyes askew to follow Agador, who has ignored the adult conversation and walked his way towards one of the front pews, kneeling down on the small wooden bench provided.

His attention does not dwindle there, but pulls back towards Porter, appraising him with a few glances.  "Well, I suppose impatience to serve one's lord can be forgiven, especially at such a young age..."

Up front, Agador has begun to pray openly and loudly, his hands cast up in the air.

"Dear Lord, thank you for this safe travel and for choosing us to do thy bidding.  For I am but a hammer within your fist..."

Leo quirks his head around again, temporarily distracted by Agador.  However, he turns his head back again rather quickly.

"Forgive me if I presume you are looking for work?  And perhaps a bed?  As for the latter, I believe there is an inn that has just begun service, they should be able to accomodate.  For the former, there is always room for more strong men in service of the Lord.  , though I'm afraid the governor has first right of refusal on all the newcomers, perhaps you should see him first?"

"...Bless you oh Lord, and bless the Saint Michael who has chosen us.  May his strength be ours, to smite down your enemies as Israel did to the Canaanites...  Amen."

For a moment, Agador stretches his arms and chin higher, as if basking the whole of his upper body in some imaginary sunlight.  Norla now has turned her whole body to watch the young man.

"If you wish to do so, there is no time like the present."  Leo says in the new quiet.  "The boy can show you if you wish."  He gestures his hand towards Runt.  "Come and see us again afterword though?"

"Father."  Agador stands and turns, both his hands gripped now on his staff like a walking stick.  "What shall we do then?"

Runt stood quietly as Leo spoke to Master Porter's about his intents.  He was a bit surprised when Agador strode to the front of the chapel, knelt, and began to pray, loudly.  From the content and volume, he was pretty sure that the teen wasn't going to be much fun to be around.

He was happy that Leo volunteered him to guide the newcomers around the settlement, such as it was.  "I am at your service good sirs," he said carefully.

Growing up Porter wasn't much on subtlety.  He didn't look for it and didn't pay it much attention.  Women he knew would say phrases like, 'Its the little things'.  He had no idea what that meant.

But that all changed the night his wife died.  Grief has a funny way of changing a man.  Porter has asked himself about a million times, 'Am I the reason my wife, my beloved, is dead?  If I had done different things would she still be alive?'  What would he have done differently?  He still isn't exactly sure but over the last five years his mind sees things, little things that he didn't notice when they happened but after the fact he came to understand they were important.  It was life nudging him, saying, 'Hey, pay attention.'  Maybe it was Saint Michael.  Naturally he's asked Michael but that damned old billy goat wont give a straight answer.

There were a whole handful of these clues that Porter ignored.  Like how Mokal's gang were hanging out too close to the gates.  He should have shoo'ed them away.  Or like how after he broke Mokal's nose the man was too calm.  He should have known that asshole was coming back for payback.  And so many more.

Sometimes Agador calls him paranoid.  Lasan would have definitely called him paranoid.  But once your mind fixes on seeing these hidden, almost intangible clues you can never go back to not seeing them.  Most of the time the clues, the observations are harmless.  These oddities lead to nothing.  But once in a while, there is a reason why half the room refuses to drink the wine or no one will fuck the girl down the street.

And so as Porter navigates the seemingly innocuous meet and greet at the tiny outpost chapel his mind cannot help tell him something is off.  Its subtle.  Almost imperceptible.  If he hadn't suffered the loss he had he doubts he would even notice it, he would explain it away as something else.  First there is the introductions.  Porter gave their names and got none in return, save for the boy.  Then there was the odd interest in Agador.  And suddenly, they suggested that the newcomers leave the chapel for just long enough.  Quite odd, though he has no idea what it means.  If there is something nefarious going on here surely Michael has sent them here for a reason.

As Leo inquires about their want for work and room and board Porter chuckles.  ”Right on both counts.  It's as if you've done this before.”  Porter chuckles again at his own joke trying to lighten the mood.  ”The governor then.  We'll return as soon as we've got his blessing and the two penny tour of the town.”

The big man waves to his son and gestures to the boy waving a had towards the chapel doorway.  ”Daniel is it?  If you'd be so kind...”

Once they put a reasonable distance between themselves and the church Porter looks down at the youth.  ”Daniel, what can you tell me of this governor?  And the priestess, and bishop?  Names would be helpful.  We've quite literally just arrived not an hour ago and know nothing of the fort or town.”  The thick soldiery looking man smiles down while waiting to be informed.


OOC:
Porter isn't sure what to make of this encounter.  Its weird but barely so.  Maybe these people are having a bad day, or they suck at social skills.  Or maybe its something deeper but he has clue what.  At this point Porter is doing his best to note the odd occurrences but pretend he doesn't notice them.

Porter would like Daniel to explain what the governors first right of refusal means, if he knows.  Then escort him to the governor so he can get that out of the way, and then the inn, and finally any other notable people or structures here.

This message was last edited by the player at 05:47, Thu 11 May 2023.