PC Present- Guillaume De Morvan

Old Nathan swept the stairs outside of the ancient villa and noted he hadn't seen the foreigner yet this morning.  It wasn't that the old man disliked the stranger indeed the two florins he received a week to take care of the property was more than he'd earned since he was hale and hearty.

The man spoke well, and Nathan had heard that he'd had some business with the Steward and come out of it quite well received.

But the house was now well supplied with ciders, perries and meads...and if Old Nathan happened to sample some occasionally, well surely the master wouldn't mind.

......................

PC Present - Colm Cernach

Maethwon ushered the students out; there were only a dozen this year and none among them bore the divine spark. She sighed and looked across the street, she could have sworn there was a man there in the shadows earlier. And the day before as well.

Shrugging she made her way down the steep stairs towards the temple proper; she'd best help prepare with the others. There would be many people gathering within the sacred stones tonight, the new moon was a good time to have the Goddess close to ones side.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:07, Tue 07 Aug 2012.

Colm had concealed himself in the shadows beneath his hooded cloak.  As the Priestess of Brigandia crossed the quadrangle towards the Santuary, the hooded figure revealed himself quietly.  Colm loped forward live one of the man unfortunates seeking charity.
19:59, Today: Colm Cernach rolled 11 using 2d10. Stealth.

"Alms for the destitute, my lady of Brigandia." Colm drew very close, his face still cowelled by his hood.

The door to the villa opened with a bang, and a tall figure lurched inside.  "Nathan!  Bring claret!"

Guillaume shrugged off his fine cloak and let it fall to the stone floor.  With a grimace he added "Oh, the North...make that cider then".  He muttered something in Beaulangue about northerners and their lack of decent wines.

It had been a heavy night of "negotiations" and Guillaume's head was spinning.  He sat at his desk and rubbed his eyes.  "Must write the King for more funds..."

When Old Nathan appeared with the cider Guillaume was already snoring.

In reply to Colm Cernach (msg # 2):

" Of course.", she smiled.

" You've been away awile.", she smiled. It was a statement but the way she lifted her voice suggested it was also a question to anyone overhearing.

" Come inside, where its warm. I'll get you some food and maybe we can talk about your troubles."

In reply to Guillaume De Morvan (msg # 3):

The old man left the flask on the night stand and closed the door behind him. He grinned to himself, pocketed another flask and made his way home.

"Thank you Maethwon."  Colm follows the Priestess inside, keeping his head down.  When they are safe inside Colm continues,
"In truth I am not sure I should have come.  My Clan are in disgrace, our lands and titles forfeit, and I might be putting you in danger.
I must remain incognito in order to keep safe until my enemies are revealed."

In reply to Colm Cernach (msg # 6):

" Your one of us, we will always aid you.""

" But you are right that it is best you not be seen, though few would know you now."

She took his chin and tilted his head from side to side, " You are not the fresh faced boy you were."

" It is most strange, all at once the members of the Council turned against your clan.  I did make some small enquiries but all I spoke with seemed convinced that the purge was a necessary evil and well deserved."

" I cannot think what they may have thought they knew and what caused such savage measures to be taken."

She placed a pork hock and a small piece of hard cheese on the table before him.

" Eat, you'll need your strength."

" I must go soon to prepare for the ceremony."

"Thank you.  It is safe for me to attend?  I'll keep under my cloak but as the de facto Clan Cernach Leader
and Bearer of the Claidheamh Soluis I must keep the Ritual."

Colm eats his food and contemplates his fate.

In reply to GM (msg # 5):

Guillaume wakes late in the evening. He feels a bit groggy after falling asleep at such an early hour. He splashes some water on his face, and takes a swig of the cider. The villa is cold and quiet. Guillaume changes into some simple clothes, his leather armour of local design and thick woolen cloak. He straps on his sword belt and checks his appearance - another local freeman (he hopes). He grabs a heel of bread and some cheese and heads out into the street. A night before the new moon should be good for 'information gathering'.


Guillaume walks down the hill towards the Temple of Flame.

" It will be safe...I barely recognised you. None of the townsfolk will, and none of the Temple would betray one of their own......unless they fell."

" I'll see you there.  You can remain here if you like, there are no students due back for the rest of the afternoon and it affords a good view over the street."

"I am different, in mind and body for I have completed my Journeyman Training and am ready to take my place among the Priesthood.  Much as it pains me, I think I will need to assume a false identity.  See you at the Ceremony."

Grateful for the hospitality, Colm settled down in the Temple Sacristy for the afternoon and eat his food.  He watched the street as people come and go, noticing a tall red hair but paying him no heed.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:15, Tue 07 Aug 2012.

In reply to Guillaume De Morvan (msg # 9):

You have walked down the road and find yourself among a crowd gathering outside the temple gate, most of the folk appear to be rather well off and are dressed in their best clothes.

In reply to GM (msg # 12):

Guillaume stands at the edge of the crowd, watching the proceedings.  He looks around for anyone he recognises and makes sure he keeps his distance.  Lets hope this is going to be a nice pagan ritual, he thinks.

Guillaume recognises a number of people but they pay him no more than a second glance, a stranger, possibly a man of means in some provincial Reaver-threatened estate but one of them nonetheless.

The temple gate is a simple gap in the surrounding wall and people are beginning to file through it. A man and a woman stood a little way inside the gate; the man was dressed in white woolen robes and the woman dressed in black robes of the same type.

Two fires burned in pits on either side of the path beside the man and woman and the people funneled between them, some of the worshippers tossed small sprigs of some herb or another into the flames as they passed.

In reply to GM (msg # 14):

This should be interesting... i'd better come up with a good cover story.

Guillaume tries to think of some far flung clan that he has heard of in case someone asks him to identify himself.  This place is so in-bred they'll probably be someone here's cousin!  Not so different to court after all.

He checks that his crucifix is safely tucked inside his shirt and follows the crowd into the temple.

Finan ate his meal, carefully hid his pack in the sacristy, then borrowed some acolyte robes from the vestry.  He mingled with the crowd and remained as innocuous as possible during the Ceremony, observing those around him as a hawk observe his prey.

10:30, Today: Finan McRoach rolled 5 using 2d10. Perception.

The inner temple was a strange and unsettling place, though the locals did not seem to note it.

Within the walls was a slightly raised earthern mound surrounded by eight large roughly rectangular stones thrusting some 3m up out of the earth. A large thatched and daubed roof had been vaulted over the circle and Guillame had the feeling that the stones had been here much longer than any of the surrounding structures.

Guillame noted a familiar face almost immediately; the 'bishop' he had met with in the castle.  Though the man was dressed most differently.

The Arch-Druid gazed over the worshippers and seemed satisfied, he stood before another stone slab supported on two thick beams of oak. His dress was white though a short cloak of raven feathers covered his shoulders and a large brass pectoral inscribed with the image of a flame covered his chest.

An old man moved out of the crowd and stood before the holy man across the table. The elderly man was pale and sickly to look upon, a large growth jutted from his throat like some grotesque wattle. Slowly and painfully the old man knelt at the circles centre.

Suddenly, the stones became limed with flickering flames that danced upon their surface and the crowd bowed their heads; many of them cut locks from their hair and beards with small knives and cast the hair into the flames that limned the stones.

The Arch-Druid began to speak and Guillarme had trouble following what he was saying, it was certainly Visic but the sentence structures were strange and offputting.

He welcomed the people, he invited the Goddess into her temple and called upon her to watch over her children.

Two other men dressed in white robes carried two objects into the circle and placed them on the table. One was a Selentine era bronze statue of a woman carrying a lamp and a spear. The other was a black basalt statue, also of a woman but of fierce aspect and hunched with a stylized flame in her cupped hands. It was weathered and seemed ancient.
.............

'Finan' watched the ceremony from within the crowd, it was as it always had been but old Bodhmall had a theatrical bent that seemed to be to the peoples liking.

He noted only worship and wonder on most of the faces, resignation on some and on a couple brief flashes of consternation and confusion. A couple of these were short sandy haired men who stood at the rear of the crowd, another was the man he had seen walking downhill earlier. It was likely they were simply country folk who had not visited the Temple before.

Finan cut a lock from his own hair and sent it into the fire with a silent prayer.
Like the Pheonix, I will rise up from the ashes of my clan and wreak great conflagration upon mine enemies.  This my vow...

Finan avoided the dignitaries and moved closer to the man he had seen earlier who looked a bit confused.
"You're from outside the kingdom?  I can explain what all this means if you would like?"
He acted like a helpful tour guide, here to explain the proceedings to the ignorant.

Guillaume silently said a prayer.  He watched the ceremony with interest.  Where were the blood sacrifices?  The crazed naked dancing?  The flaming rock was a nice touch, but nothing he hadn't seen done by court sorcerors back home.  Well it would all go in his next report.  No doubt the King would be horrified by such paganism but it didn't really bother Guillaume that much.  It might be a good idea to talk more with the druids later.

Guillaume used his mastery of Visic to put on the thickest accent he could.
"From the North... but i've been away for some time." 
He eyed the man, certainly a face to remember.  And those eyes felt like they could see all the way into his soul.  Still though, an ally in the Cult of Brigandia could be useful.
"Our worship is different, i'd be glad for you to explain the ceremony to me.  Perhaps we could get a drink - there should be some taverns open down by the docks."
Guillaume puts out his hand.
"Fingal McInnes, pleased to meet you"

OOC not sure if i need to make a disguise roll but here's one anyway
10:23, Today: Guillaume De Morvan rolled 13 using 2d10. Stealth.

"Finan McRoach.  I'd be happy to explain things to you over a mead." Finan smiles without warmth.
"What brings you this far South Fingal?"

01:30, Today: Finan McRoach rolled 4 using 1d20. Opposed Perception?
Finan is ready for the unexpected, and wonders what he is missing here about this big country bumpkin...