Fost nodded at Loran's proposal.
"I'm fine with either option. But I wonder if we can safely park the wagon at the chantry and care for the horses.
He turned back to the fellow with the bow.
"Are there any guests at the Refuge?"

"I heard a couple regular visitors returned from an overnight jaunt. A pair of dwarven warriors," the guard says. "They usually stay at the Refuge."

Fost's face crunched in a brief moment of dismay.
"Two dwarves, heh?"
He turned to Richard. The prospect of watching his friend trying to seduce the local inn maid did not hold much appeal either.
"Not too happy to meet Hawker and Higler again so soon. Let's go to the chantry."
As he nudged his horse in the direction of the chantry he nodded again to the fellow with the bow and thanked him for the information and help provided.
He hoped to learn if there were templars at the chantry. Maybe they would know about the apostate. If not they should be warned. Further, there was the matter of the darkspawn.
He turned back in his saddle.
"Sorry for my ignorance, but who rules Lothering? And how would we best go about to meet said ruler. We have some news that ought to be shared with the authorities."

Richard had remained silent, Tevinter architecture, rolling fields.. there's not exactly a lot for a man like Richard. His eyes wander from one wooden shack to another, he sighs and simply shrugs with a grin at Fost "Those two? They were so nice.." Stretching himself he adds "I could do with a comfortable bed, I don't care if the bugs are blessed or not."

"I should probably check in with the Templars at some point, but I'd rather sleep at the Inn if possible." He should look to make at least a courtesy visit for his own mind.

When they got to the chantry Brother Loran asked to see the mother superior and went to arrange beds for them all

"Arl Leonas rules South Reach, of which Lothering is part," the guard answers. "We have no bann to call our own, but the arl is generous enough to appoint a lord mayor, Elfred Carpenter. He's been mayor for as long as I can remember. You can probably find him at the tavern about this time."

The party makes its way to the chantry first. It looks like many other chantries, with the long entryway filled with small shrines and tables of prayer candles along the wall. A lay brother stands near one of the candle tables next to where the interior opens up into the neve. There, Loran recognizes that the Reverend Mother's chambers are likely to the right (as bookshelves and a small teaching area sit to the left, where a pair of sisters are engaged over something they're reading.)

In front of them, another sister is standing on the chancel, arranging and lighting candles there, preparing for an upcoming service, it seems, while a few faithful sit on benches in prayer.

The dark-skinned lay brother at the candle table clears his throat and says, "Is there something I can help you find, good brother? You and your friends have just come in from the road?"

"prays be the maker" brother Loran greeted the lay brother. " we have travelled far and ask for the hospitality of the Chantry this evening" he hands over a note of introduction from his mother superior " I only ask for a bed for the night and somewhere to clean the dirt of the road off our clothes. An area maybe one of the wild flower fields for the horses to graze as well if possible."

He looked back at his companions " I am sure my travelling companions will sup at the tavern tonight but I will vouch for then that they will not return to the chantry drunk."

" and one last personal request I have need of quiet contemplation could I sit awhile and pray to the maker to give thanks for our protection on the road and for what might lay ahead of us"

Richard stayed behind the others and seemed to try and make himself smaller. He leaned a little closer to Mikhail and whispered. "Chantries make me uncomfortable. I feel judged with each step." He straightend up when brother Loran addressed them and he simply nods "A quick meal at the tavern does wonders but I prefer not to drink my money away."

"I'm Brother Devons, and I'll be happy to arrange a couple of rooms for you and your friends," the lay brother responds. At Loran's promise, he chuckles lightly. "Well, I'm sure those already in bed will be grateful."



As if on cue, a passing sister appears to give him a disapproving glance...

"At any rate, the doors of the chantry are always open, even if you come back late. Brother, do you intend to join us for the evening and compline chants?"

" that would be an honour Brother Devons that I will of course take you up on" he replied with a gentle smile.

Turning to his friends " if you wish to sort out the horses and your gear we can head for the tavern after  which I will go to evening prayer"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:57, Wed 16 Mar 2022.

Fost was a bit at a loss. He would have liked to ask for any present templars. Probably they knew something anoit Fenwithe. But clearly his friends were eager to leave and get to the Refuge in search for food, drink and likely a more comfortable bed than they might expect at the chantry. And who knows, Richard might even chat up the local town beauty. Probably loading a heap of trouble on their heads. Then again, Fost was doing his friend a disfavour with these thoughts.
Fost shrugged.
"Thank you for your hospitality Brother Devons.", he said gratefully.
The large warrior decided that talking to templars might be better done in the morning.

Once they had stowed away most if their gear in the alloted rooms,  they headed out for the local Inn.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:26, Wed 16 Mar 2022.

Brother Devons directs the group to stable their horses and stow their cart with the farm next to the elevated highway; he describes the farmer there “beyond reproach” and “the fount of integrity,” and promises he’ll be more than fair with price.

The man, a middle aged fellow named Eldred, comes as advertised, and, when told the quartet is recommended to him by Brother Devons, says the costs for housing the animals will be a silver per night. They pay out of the funds given them by Arl Eamon and, after a brief inspection of the mows and stables, are soon on their way.

A sturdy stone bridge arcs over the stream, and the friends turn onto it to make their way to the Refuge. Even though they’re a group of well-armed and armored men walking about, rough from the road, local folks seem to pay them little mind, like these sorts of travelers are not an uncommon sight in Lothering.

As they crest a bridge, a pair of women with a familial connection step onto the bridge from the other side; both are small and slight, with red hair and pale eyes. One is in a long dress of common design, covered by an apron that appears to have been recently stained reddish by berries; the other, clearly athletic by her toned physique, is in heavy leathers and well-armed, walking with a glaive.

As he locks eyes with the athletic one, something clicks in the depths of Loran’s mind. A hint of familiarity. Wild red hair. Giggles. Skinned knees. Flashes of childhood shenanigans.

Erin!

*~*~*~*~*~*

Erin and her cousin, Sally, are heading to the loganberry bushes that grow along the knolls on the south edge of the village when the young warrior spots an entourage of mercenaries crossing the bridge ahead of them. It’s not unusual to see armed warriors and their friends running about, and she’s about to return her attention to their conversation about Sally’s sister’s disastrous romantic life when she catches the eye of the chantry brother.

For some reason, he looks like he fits his attire, like she knows he was destined for clerical robes. And those eyes. Kind eyes, and gentle. As they had always been, for as long as she knew him, since…since…

Loran!

OOC: Take it away, Loran and Erin!

As they crested the bridge idly chatting amongst themselves Brother Loran noticed two women coming towards them. the bridge was not wide enough for them all to pass at once so Loran stepped to one side.

He looked over towards the women about to wish them a good evening when he stopped in his tracks and stared. His mouth slightly open, for a number of seconds he stared at the one dressed in leather and armed .....then he realised what he was doing and turned bright red hoping his companions could not see his blushes in the darkness it was not right for a brother to look at a woman in such a way but she reminded him of someone.

As she came level with one of the lit torches on the bridge.... the angle of her neck, the setting of her eyes and the red hair suddenly a name from the past crossed his lips at the same moment an image of a young girl came to mind....Erin!!

He said the name again Erin but this time he said it out loud

There was something to be said about seeing someone resembling a person thought to be long gone, lost or worse even, dead. Had the man been alone she would had found it unsettling but as part of a group it couldn't be some unheard of apparition bound to the bridge during the late hours. Eyeing the suspect and his peers on the approach, it became clear in her head that it had to be some coincidence or some very distant relative of his... Or was he? In the seemingly seconds that took them to cross over to their side, Sally's chatter was white noise in the background of her racing mind.

Even if he likely was a stranger, the idea would be gnawing at her mind for a week. Just when she was about to shamelessly abuse her presumed powers and interrogate the small group, he spoke. "Loran?" She inquired looking a bit dumbfounded but not really waiting for an answer to continue. "Loran! Look Sally It's really Loran!" Tugging on her cousin with the one free hand she had she stopped there unknowingly blocking the bridge.

"Look at you! Where have you been? Why didn't you tell anyone that you were coming? Are you coming back or just visiting? Who are these? Are you his friends? If you are friends of Loran then you ought to be alright. How come you are here now? We got to tell everyone, nobody is going to believe me back home. How long are you staying?" When she miraculously finished that one long chain of words, that if nothing else betrayed her good lungs, Erin stared at Loran, beaming on the spot and seemingly bursting with energy.

Energy that found a temporary outlet when she suddenly let go of Sally and swung her now free fist at upper arm of her childhood friend. "Look at you!"

Fost stopped right there in his tracks, utterly baffled at the uncanny meeting.
Then he found himself grinning despite himself, almost watching stupidly.
It was... amazing... to see someone knowing Loran from the past.

Brother Loran suddenly smiled from ear to ear realising it was indeed Erin.

He took the punch without wincing, just. " you still hit like a girl little one" he said using the name he used to call her.

Suddenly the brother did something totally unpriest like and wrapped his arms round the girl and gave her a big hug before pushing her back slightly and giving her a gently kissed her on the forehead.

" I thought you would be married and giving one of the village boys a hard time by now but look at you armour and weapons but then look at me  robes and the maker it is funny how lifes turns and twists take us in unexpected directions."

Realising his friends were watching he blushed again then introduced Erin to them and them to her " We have just arrived, I'm not sure how long we will be staying but please come with us to the tavern if you have time I would love to hear news of home and the priests .....Did you know sister Hannah too me with her when she left I've been with her ever sinces shes a mother superior now with her own chantry ....listen to me all that can wait "

"What? No way! I would never cause trouble for anyone in here, quite the contrary! That is, unless they are troublemakers themselves." Erin reached back for her cousin. "Of course we would be delighted to, we have to tell everyone there who decided to show up after all these years."

She pointed back across the bridge and led the way. "I wouldn't know about that, all I knew is that one day I came to town and you were no more, suppose I was too little to really know anyway. But back to the present, what are you doing here in those robes and with these fine fellows in tow? Don't tell me you are someone important now, breaking bread with Nobility, coming here to take a high post in the big city."

Waiting his turn Richard steps forward towards Erin and approaches her with his warmest smile "The name's Richard and I'm glad to make your acquaintance." He gives her a slight bow "Am I correct to assume that you're Erin? I've heard tales of your beauty yet I was not prepared for what I can see clearly in front of me."

Fost was still too startled to mumble more than just his name, and he did not say Fost, but only Longstrider at that, which in hindsight was a bit awkward.
Then again, Erin and her cousin might be cunning enough to realize that he followed the Avvar tradition of bynames and legend-marks. Which, given his inner turmoil about his heritage, was actually even more awkward.
All said and done it did not help at all that his charming friend was all glib-tongued about making his own introduction and so the cause of Fost's ensuing eye-rolling was indeterminable.
As for ever hearing Loran speak of Erin, Fost drew a blank. To imagine Loran actually speaking of any female without reference to 'Mother' and thus to some highplaced Chantry member was just as unusual as Richard not making a fuss about anyone wearing skirts. He did notice that Richard seemingly discarded the other woman who, at first glance, seemed to be easier 'prey' for his friend'a libidinous endeavours.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:38, Fri 18 Mar 2022.

"Family, I take it. Good to meet you. I'm Mikhail." The robes as staff would give away more of his identity than his name ever could, but he hoped that this would at least be a good enough introduction for now. While he was certain he would be hearing all sorts of embarrassing stories about the good brother, he wondered just how much she actually knew of his... proclivities to magic. How much of this part of Loran was hidden from his family just as he was hiding it from himself.

Ah, but today was a day for new beginnings and reunions, not a more dour conversation. There would be time enough for that discussion when they returned to Redcliffe. If they even wanted to have that discussion in any case.

" yes family or as close to family as a foundling will ever have" he smiled at Erin again his heart feeling light knowing she was still alive and well.

"When I was a child Erin was one of the village children I played with. We looked out for each other....well as I recall I did the looking out for as I was a little older than her" a far away look came across his face for a moment, with a sad edge to it.

He cleared his through realising he'd talked too much about his passed after all he was a brother of the Chantry and he had forsaken his past to take up the word of the maker. but still it was good to see a face from his past

"Tales is what they are, and quite dishonest too Richard. I am not know beyond this great town and Sally here is much more charming." She glanced at Loran, unsure if his apparent profession was conductive to those things or not. "Did you heard those things as well?" Shaking her head she continued. "No no no, no, No. Absolutely no, this just won't do. Imagine, someone spreading rumors about me Maker knows how far and wide!" There was a pause to her worrying and then she turned yet another shade of white. "If rumors are circulating, it is only a matter of time until they reach Lothering, it is a big town and lots of travelers come through here... I'll never hear the end of it. And just wait till my family hears about them."

Wide eyes she inched closer to Mikhail and Longstrider. "You two, you are foreigners. Have you heard any of this before? Back in your homeland perhaps?" Somehow the troubling news had rained in the parade that meeting her childhood friend was meant to be.

"Homeland? I was born in the Bannorn. Oh... wait, right. The Circle Robes. I'm the son of Bann Loren. Confusing since we have Brother Loran, I'm sure." He waved his hand over his whole outfit and smiled in the situation. Oh the irony when you are considered a foreigner in your own land.

Actually... maybe she was more in tune with the day-to-day. "Actually, my sister... Well, have you ever met Kelsie? Kelsie Loren? She should work at my father's horse fields."

The loganberry expedition all but forgotten as they stride to the Refuge, Sally glances at her cousin at the mention of Kelsie; she shrugged and shook her head negatively. Erin herself has heard of Bann Loren, but only because a knight of his passed through Lothering on business for Ostagar a couple years back. She only remembers the name because she was watching the north entrance to the village when he arrived, and ended up escorting him around to the tavern, mayor's shop, and the chantry after her shift ended.

Reaching the tavern door, they enter, and the proprietor waves a friendly greeting to Erin and Sally.

Ahead in the corner, a pair of broad faces familiar to the travelers converse over their meals. Hawker glances in their direction, recognition in his eyes. He offers a single nod and returns his attention to his brother.

There are a couple tables on the other side of the tavern that would fit the party of seven, and Sally starts to steer her cousin towards one of them. As they sit, only then does it become apparent to Sally and Erin a child is among the group.

"Who's this one, then? He with you boys?" she asks, eying Alistair.