Catalyst Quest: Wild Growth
- Thread starter Alaric
- Start date
- Original Mature Fantasy Horror
>C] Take a moment to give your thanks to Spirit. You've only correctly invoked Her a few times before, and you want to set a better precedent.
I hoped that this was the right thing to do. This is a big book of Dont's that will be priceless in remembering our history.
>A] Go explore the basement! Adventure awaits! You're probably going to keel over halfway there, but you're going to try, dammit!
Adventure on!
>B] Father Pevrel is probably going to kill you at this rate. Head out, and see what's been bothering him while you march.
Let him know the other Name of Vengeance that we have learned then we hear him out. I don't feel too bad about this though since we have made Spirit happy.
I hoped that this was the right thing to do. This is a big book of Dont's that will be priceless in remembering our history.
>A] Go explore the basement! Adventure awaits! You're probably going to keel over halfway there, but you're going to try, dammit!
Adventure on!
>B] Father Pevrel is probably going to kill you at this rate. Head out, and see what's been bothering him while you march.
Let him know the other Name of Vengeance that we have learned then we hear him out. I don't feel too bad about this though since we have made Spirit happy.
That's crazy. You can't expect people to be forced to comply through pain. Except us- because Anscham's already masochistic to begin with. Through Richard's experience, humans must temper themselves, be they through their life or that in the teachings of the Gods. One can not hope to balance all of the Gods by their opposite sibling and see if it applies for every individual- that individual must also consider their own context and life for the application.
Remember, the Gods can not help themselves to their nature, it is only through humans that must moderate themselves upon the world other than their own Sibling.
Good for laws, bad for everyday life because of the dynamics each new day brings interacting very differently to every individual.
So for vote:
>B] Father Pevrel is probably going to kill you at this rate. Head out, and see what's been bothering him while you march.
>C] Take a moment to give your thanks to Spirit. You've only correctly invoked Her a few times before, and you want to set a better precedent.
>D] You are really trying to take better care of yourself. Propose that you all leave. Go make camp somewhere safe in Sunset Hallow, and study this tome under the stars.
Appease Pevrel, Thank Spirit waifu! Another day devoted to alleviate soul ache! 🤕
>B] Father Pevrel is probably going to kill you at this rate. Head out, and see what's been bothering him while you march.
Chapter 86: Our Anchor
Alaric
⠀
Chapter 86: Our Anchor
You take a long minute to pray to Spirit, thanking Her for all that She's done. There's no way you can feel too bad about all of this, knowing that you've made your Goddess happy.
I can only hope that I've done the right thing.
"This will be priceless in remembering our history." You give an apologetic look to Father Pevrel, face still stinging. "There was another name for Vengeance in here. 'Nemescian.' Are you familiar with it?"
All the heat falls from him. His lips part. "No. I can't say that I am."
The priest gives the ground a hard look, then stares back up at you. "This doesn't make up for anything."
"Then maybe exploring the basement will." You lovingly place the holy book inside of your satchel, sling the bag over your shoulder, and set out for the hole you made in the floor. There's a skip in your step. You couldn't be more excited. "Let's goo!"
"Anscham!" He's right on your heels. Father Wilhelm is in tow, smirking to himself.
The three of you arrive at the small opening in the center of the temple. Starlight and sand barely filters into the dark and dank space below. It's almost impossible to see anything inside, so you fish out a long length of rope, and start looking for something to anchor it to.
"What do you think you're doing?" Father Pevrel snatches the rope out from your hands, just as you're readying to tie it to one of the nearby pews.
"Going down." You grin. "I've acquired knowledge, but what of skeletons—?"
You're bopped on the head with the length of rope. "You sicken me. Step aside. You're going to get us all killed." He kneels down before you can move, and starts tying the rope securely to a different set of pews, several feet down the aisle. "These are hardier. Right?"
"Right, but we'll need more rope—"
"Atticus. Get over here."
The slender leader of the Church of Dream glances over. He was staring into the opening, deep in thought. "Hmm?"
"You're the lightest out of any of us. I'll lower you down, and you can scout out for us. I'll just jump down if anything happens."
"The drop must be thirty feet," the lord of nightmares teases.
"And I can climb better than any of us."
You realize what he's getting at, but still ask, "what about me—"
"What about you?" He's finished tying the rope around Father Wilhelm's legs and waist in a makeshift harness, with several knots for him to hold on to. It looks like he's done this many times. "You're our anchor. I'm expecting you to support him so that the pew doesn't have to do any of the work." He smirks. "Unless you want to pass up on a chance to get more lifting in—"
You grab onto the rope so quickly, it burns the palms of your hands. "Say no more."
The three of you get situated near the opening. Father Pevrel kicks a few more of the surrounding floorboards away, making the opening large enough for any of you to comfortably fit through.
Lowering Father Wilhelm down right on the heels of that invocation is probably not the best idea. It strains your arms, your core, and the ache in your soul is blinding. You wind up kneeling when he's only halfway into the basement, and are sitting on the floor by the time he's lowered to the ground. Father Pevrel, of course, does nothing to help.
Bits of thread swim in your eyes (though not literally, this time).
Several minute pass by in silence. Father Wilhelm must be scoping the place out, but you still call out, "are you alright?"
"Fine! Just fine!"
You take quick stock of a few of your things while you wait for a report. Furor is miraculously undamaged from your earlier invocations of Storm, likely thanks to the gold plating it that Mercy created Herself. It's scorched along the handle and skeletal head, creating arcs of black lightning across the entire object. It looks so cool, you stop for a minute just to admire it.
The stores of food and water you all have should last well through the end of the trip, thanks to all of your fishing, hunting, and foraging.
There's no damage to any of the new items you've placed in the endless carrying space, and you're still able to fetch things out of the bag without shuffling around for more than a minute or two.
Either bored or worried, Father Pevrel calls to the priest underground, "what do you see?!"
"It's a crypt!"
You loosen your grip on the rope in hand, letting it loosely slip through your palms while Father Wilhelm finally walks around.
"I was a bit worried, but my eyes have adjusted to the lighting! You were almost right about the skeletons, Richard! Hate to disappoint, but none are outside of the coffins! It's—" Father Wilhelm cuts himself off.
"Atticus?" Father Pevrel leans a little over the ledge. "What is it?!"
"There's a sculpture of two skeletons atop the largest coffin! They're laying on top of the casket, embracing one another— even in death!" It sounds like he's choking up. "Mother Prudence Layne, and Father Wilkin Ivey. The leaders of this temple must have been partners!"
Father Pevrel has to help you hoist Father Wilhelm back to the first floor. It doesn't take long, though you're ready to pass out by the time he's through the hole in the floor.
Both men help you to your feet, and pat you on your back once you're up. Father Pevrel even gives you a shoulder to lean on. "Come on. Let's get going."
You cast one final look to the temple before exiting. The stars haven't changed at all since you entered. You wonder for a moment how many ages longer that this building could have gone undiscovered, and leave with a smile on your face.
The sunset has passed, and real starlight shines outdoors. It's a slightly different array than what was inside the temple, but in equally stunning hues of aquamarine and indigo.
You and your companions pick your way through the sunflowers at a grueling pace, and before long, you're back to the treeline. Father Pevrel makes no concessions for how exhausted you are, and so while you all rush over undergrowth and below the forest canopy, you catch up to him. Father Wilhelm gladly keeps to the rear.
"Father Pevrel—"
"Not now, Anscham."
You give him a look. The look that says, 'I'm not going anywhere until you talk to me.' For emphasis, you come right alongside his brisk strides, match them, and bump up against his shoulder.
"Go away, Anscham."
"No."
"You don't want to know what's bothering me."
"I beg to differ."
He grumbles, "it's the same old shit. Alright?"
"Could you please be more specific?"
"I hate you."
"Hate is a powerful motivator." You give him a serious look. "We don't have to talk about this if you— if you really don't want to."
Letting out an exaggerated sigh, the eyeless priest stares hard up at the sky for just a moment. "Light gives me more trouble than most things. It hurts to look at, most of the time."
You instantly recall the few invocations of Mercy you've done in the man's presence, and his violent reaction to them. He wouldn't even enter the Church of Mercy during his stay in Eadric, either. "Is that why—"
"Yes, that's why." He drops his gaze back to the trunks and bushes in your path, side-stepping a nasty bush riddled with thorns. "But in there, I couldn't see anything."
"Do you want to know what there was?"
"...yes."
You give him a full description of the temple, the tapestries, the sand glass you inspected, and the holy book you recovered.
Father Pevrel's lips are tight, while he keeps his gaze dead-ahead. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"...Anscham."
"Yes?"
"I'd like to read that book with you, when you get around to it."
"You saw the letters? I thought they were illuminated by the starlight."
"No. It came from the book itself."
"I'd be happy to read it with you."
"...alright."
Everyone wants to get to Wearmoor safely and soundly, and as luck would have it, the next four days pass by peacefully and uneventfully. It gives you ample time for rest and recovery, despite Father Pevrel keeping up a faster pace. It's hard not to appreciate the man's efforts and guidance. He's doing everything he can to push you and Father Wilhelm, without breaking either of your completely down.
More importantly, your newfound respect towards rest and recovery has a skip in your step. With at least two weeks still to go before reaching Wearmoor, you know you'll make the most of your Time.
>The following options are for how you wish to spend your downtime over the next four (4) days.
>You have a total of 60 points to spend across all four days.
>Each point represents the time and effort you can expend (while still recovering from your soul ache).
>You may distribute your points however you see fit, while abiding by the guidelines listed beside each prompt.
>Due to the nature of these prompts, purely original activities will not be accepted at this time.
>You may submit ideas you have to supplement each prompt, e.g. questions you'd like to ask of Father Wilhelm, Gods you specifically want to pray to instead of Them all, etc.
>A] Study the Little King's Law. (5 points per instance. Limit once per day. You will have quality time with Father Pevrel, and this does not overlap with option D.)
>B] Get in some archery practice. (4 points per instance. Limited to twice per day, unless option C is chosen. If option C is chosen, limited to once per day.)
>C] Add additional exercise to your routine, with respect towards Flesh. (4 points per instance. Limited to twice per day, unless option B is chosen. If option B is chosen, limited to once per day.)
>D] Get to know Father Pevrel better. (4 points per instance. Limited to once every other day. Attempts to do more may make him shut down completely, but you're welcome to risk it!)
>E] Get to know Father Wilhelm better. (3 points per instance. No limit, though you might annoy your exhausted mentor if you incessantly badger him.)
>F] Formally pray to all of the Gods. (2 points per instance. No limit, aside from your available Time.)
>G] Carve your bow, with respect towards Dream. (2 points per instance. Limited to once per day, to give your hands a break.)
>H] Go fishing. (2 points per instance. Limit once per day.)
>I] Journal, with respect to Spirit. (1 point per instance. Limited to once per day.)
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I want to break down the activities like this:
24 points for time spent with allies:
>A twice, for 10 points total, days 1 and 3
>D twice, for 8 points total, days 2 and 4
>E twice, for 6 points total, days 1 and 3
36 points for actions we take alone, for our own benefit:
>B twice, for 8 points total, days 1 and 3
>C twice, for 8 points total, days 2 and 4
>F four times, for 8 points total, beginning of each day
>G twice, for 4 points total, days 2 and 4
>H twice, for 4 points total, days 1 and 3
>I four times, for 4 points total, end of each day
The points with the corresponding vote represent the order we'd execute the tasks during the day:
Day 1: 2F+5A+3E+4B+2H+1I (17pts)
Day 2: 2F+2G+4C+4D+1I (13pts)
Day 3: 2F+5A+3E+4B+2H+1I (17pts)
Day 4: 2F+2G+4C+4D+1I (13pts)
I tried to ensure everything would fit. Let me know if there are any issues.
24 points for time spent with allies:
>A twice, for 10 points total, days 1 and 3
>D twice, for 8 points total, days 2 and 4
>E twice, for 6 points total, days 1 and 3
36 points for actions we take alone, for our own benefit:
>B twice, for 8 points total, days 1 and 3
>C twice, for 8 points total, days 2 and 4
>F four times, for 8 points total, beginning of each day
>G twice, for 4 points total, days 2 and 4
>H twice, for 4 points total, days 1 and 3
>I four times, for 4 points total, end of each day
The points with the corresponding vote represent the order we'd execute the tasks during the day:
Day 1: 2F+5A+3E+4B+2H+1I (17pts)
Day 2: 2F+2G+4C+4D+1I (13pts)
Day 3: 2F+5A+3E+4B+2H+1I (17pts)
Day 4: 2F+2G+4C+4D+1I (13pts)
I tried to ensure everything would fit. Let me know if there are any issues.
60 point spread for 4 days…
Estimated 15 per day schedule then!
PLAN: PRAISE THE GODS BECAUSE YOU'RE LIFTING TILL YOU SLEEP
Day 1
>C] Add additional exercise to your routine, with respect towards Flesh. (4 points per instance. Limited to twice per day, unless option B is chosen. If option B is chosen, limited to once per day.)
>F] Formally pray to all of the Gods. (2 points per instance. No limit, aside from your available Time.)x2
>A] Study the Little King's Law. (5 points per instance. Limit once per day. You will have quality time with Father Pevrel, and this does not overlap with option D.)
>H] Go fishing. (2 points per instance. Limit once per day.)
-4+4+5+2=13
Law, Prayer, and Fish
Day 2
>C] Add additional exercise to your routine, with respect towards Flesh. (4 points per instance. Limited to twice per day, unless option B is chosen. If option B is chosen, limited to once per day.)
>B] Get in some archery practice. (4 points per instance. Limited to twice per day, unless option C is chosen. If option C is chosen, limited to once per day.)
>F] Formally pray to all of the Gods. (2 points per instance. No limit, aside from your available Time.)
>G] Carve your bow, with respect towards Dream. (2 points per instance. Limited to once per day, to give your hands a break.)
>E] Get to know Father Wilhelm better. (3 points per instance. No limit, though you might annoy your exhausted mentor if you incessantly badger him.)
-4+4+2+2+3=15
Archer's day. Get those back muscles worked out, and bow artfully carved. Have some time for Wilhem afterwards.
Day3
>C] Add additional exercise to your routine, with respect towards Flesh. (4 points per instance. Limited to twice per day, unless option B is chosen. If option B is chosen, limited to once per day.)x2
>F] Formally pray to all of the Gods. (2 points per instance. No limit, aside from your available Time.)x2
>G] Carve your bow, with respect towards Dream. (2 points per instance. Limited to once per day, to give your hands a break.)
>I] Journal, with respect to Spirit. (1 point per instance. Limited to once per day.)
-8+4+2+1=15
The Day of FleshBro! Strip everything! Praise the Gods for dawn devotions before going above and beyond! Those previous days of constant extra exercise? Those are the prelude to this absolute madness! Drag Pevrel to the ground if you have to! Once your entire body has thoroughly felt the burn of a thousand suns in places even Anscham is sure muscle doesn't exist is only the beginning as his very corporal endurance is tested throughly throughout the day. It is only then by sundown does Anscham relaxes with his hands in bow carving beforeshambling marching to the Morrinburn to bathe.
After that are the next hours of devotion to the Gods from the moment Richard's burning Flesh rises from the steaming river! Once Anscham deems his ordeals fit can he devote the last of the night in journaling for Spirit.
Day4
>D] Get to know Father Pevrel better. (4 points per instance. Limited to once every other day. Attempts to do more may make him shut down completely, but you're welcome to risk it!)
>B] Get in some archery practice. (4 points per instance. Limited to twice per day, unless option C is chosen. If option C is chosen, limited to once per day.)
>A] Study the Little King's Law. (5 points per instance. Limit once per day. You will have quality time with Father Pevrel, and this does not overlap with option D.
>G] Carve your bow, with respect towards Dream. (2 points per instance. Limited to once per day, to give your hands a break.)
-4+4+5+2=15
The last day. Best to keep it light enough with just archery practice, some Pevrel socialising and book reading.
Edit: Corrected! Damn, we couldn't spam the triple Flesh action!
Estimated 15 per day schedule then!
PLAN: PRAISE THE GODS BECAUSE YOU'RE LIFTING TILL YOU SLEEP
Day 1
>C] Add additional exercise to your routine, with respect towards Flesh. (4 points per instance. Limited to twice per day, unless option B is chosen. If option B is chosen, limited to once per day.)
>F] Formally pray to all of the Gods. (2 points per instance. No limit, aside from your available Time.)x2
>A] Study the Little King's Law. (5 points per instance. Limit once per day. You will have quality time with Father Pevrel, and this does not overlap with option D.)
>H] Go fishing. (2 points per instance. Limit once per day.)
-4+4+5+2=13
Law, Prayer, and Fish
Day 2
>C] Add additional exercise to your routine, with respect towards Flesh. (4 points per instance. Limited to twice per day, unless option B is chosen. If option B is chosen, limited to once per day.)
>B] Get in some archery practice. (4 points per instance. Limited to twice per day, unless option C is chosen. If option C is chosen, limited to once per day.)
>F] Formally pray to all of the Gods. (2 points per instance. No limit, aside from your available Time.)
>G] Carve your bow, with respect towards Dream. (2 points per instance. Limited to once per day, to give your hands a break.)
>E] Get to know Father Wilhelm better. (3 points per instance. No limit, though you might annoy your exhausted mentor if you incessantly badger him.)
-4+4+2+2+3=15
Archer's day. Get those back muscles worked out, and bow artfully carved. Have some time for Wilhem afterwards.
Day3
>C] Add additional exercise to your routine, with respect towards Flesh. (4 points per instance. Limited to twice per day, unless option B is chosen. If option B is chosen, limited to once per day.)x2
>F] Formally pray to all of the Gods. (2 points per instance. No limit, aside from your available Time.)x2
>G] Carve your bow, with respect towards Dream. (2 points per instance. Limited to once per day, to give your hands a break.)
>I] Journal, with respect to Spirit. (1 point per instance. Limited to once per day.)
-8+4+2+1=15
The Day of FleshBro! Strip everything! Praise the Gods for dawn devotions before going above and beyond! Those previous days of constant extra exercise? Those are the prelude to this absolute madness! Drag Pevrel to the ground if you have to! Once your entire body has thoroughly felt the burn of a thousand suns in places even Anscham is sure muscle doesn't exist is only the beginning as his very corporal endurance is tested throughly throughout the day. It is only then by sundown does Anscham relaxes with his hands in bow carving before
After that are the next hours of devotion to the Gods from the moment Richard's burning Flesh rises from the steaming river! Once Anscham deems his ordeals fit can he devote the last of the night in journaling for Spirit.
Day4
>D] Get to know Father Pevrel better. (4 points per instance. Limited to once every other day. Attempts to do more may make him shut down completely, but you're welcome to risk it!)
>B] Get in some archery practice. (4 points per instance. Limited to twice per day, unless option C is chosen. If option C is chosen, limited to once per day.)
>A] Study the Little King's Law. (5 points per instance. Limit once per day. You will have quality time with Father Pevrel, and this does not overlap with option D.
>G] Carve your bow, with respect towards Dream. (2 points per instance. Limited to once per day, to give your hands a break.)
-4+4+5+2=15
The last day. Best to keep it light enough with just archery practice, some Pevrel socialising and book reading.
Edit: Corrected! Damn, we couldn't spam the triple Flesh action!
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Alaric
⠀
(Minor problem, C is limited to twice per day.)
I'll Third on salemon's schedule.
Chapter 87: Quality Time
Alaric
⠀
Chapter 87: Quality Time
Time flies by. Every morning is spent in some new clearing, under some new bough, praying to and doing your part for all of the Gods.
Waking up to see the sunrise for Mercy.
Fires burned in the name of Storm.
Breakfast cooked for Agriculture.
Words penned for Spirit.
Exercise in the name of Flesh.
Observance of the hour for Time.
Rest for Dream.
Even ritual blood sacrifices for Vengeance.
Normalcy.
The first day (coming back to camp with a bandage over your hand from slicing it open with a ceremonial dagger), you beseech Father Pevrel to read with you before setting out on the day's march. The two of you make ready to study The Little King's Law, and gather with Father Wilhelm around the campfire.
What's immediately apparent about the holy book is that Spirit did not repair it in full. The pages are more delicate than a butterfly's wings, and many of them are too damaged to be read. You have to supplement the information listed with the knowledge Spirit bestowed upon you for many of the pages, but luckily, Father Pevrel takes your word at face value.
"You couldn't lie to my face if your life depended on it, Anscham."
"That's— you're not wrong, but—"
"Save it for the road. What's this here?
Starting from the front cover and working your way back works out just fine. You delicately mind the book's repaired binding and pages, while Father Pevrel harasses you with the differences between King Vaughn's reign and Father Pevrel's own form of rule.
"You mean to tell me that the Church of Vengeance— today, I mean— pardons some criminals?"
"We did for you." He stares at you in an odd way. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he felt sorry for you. "How the Church of Mercy interfered was meant to only be carried out if you had actually turned into a demon, you know."
"...you knew about my case?"
"I pieced things together after you were appointed to your station. The name 'Richard Anscham' meant nothing to me fifteen years ago. Neither did a lone report of someone being accused of becoming a demon halfway across the country."
"Fourteen years ago— but yes."
"I was just a little older than you are now." Father Pevrel strokes his stubble for a moment, looking you over. "I wasn't the leader of the Church of Vengeance, then. Was in the best shape of my life, though."
"I don't see what that has to do with the law." You shove him with your shoulder hard enough to knock him off the log he's sitting on, and fight not to laugh too hard.
"Everything—!" He hoists himself back up, sits next to you, and shoves you just as hard. You stay seated, however. "Should get to shove you twice to knock you over. The point that I've been getting at is that while we seek out those deserving of punishment, punishment is not the end goal. Proper retribution is. The Church of Vengeance exists to deliver justice on behalf of the people's of Corcaea. If a crime can be dealt with through the hands of Mercy, then that is just as valid a sentence as being tied up in the dungeons by one's thumbs."
You squirm a little, red in the face. "That's ridiculous. The Church of Mercy isn't exactly impartial to either method—"
"That's it. Come here—!"
"Mercy! Wait!"
You wrangle a good deal more information out from Father Pevrel over the rest of the morning. It's mostly mundane. Torture methods are listed in detail in The Little King's Law— most of which Father Pevrel extensively uses— constitutes the majority of it. All the rest of the discussion is how your fellow Church leader governs the local populace in Mauseburg, versus his more lackadaisical attitude while in your home territory. There's thinly veiled threat of how hard the gloves are going to come off when you reach civilization, though you are hardly opposed, and don't bother talking him down from his stance on violent retribution for now.
You've had more than enough talk of crime and punishment by the time that the afternoon rolls around. You all hike straight through lunch, eating on the go. Your need to stay on schedule feels heightened by each passing moment.
Falling back enough to stride alongside Father Wilhelm nets a smile out of the exhausted priest. Not only is he unused to so much exertion— he's been relying on invoking Dream through many nights to keep you all safe. You're not one to criticize other people's indulgences, so you don't make any mention of how his chronic smoking may have to do with how easily winded he gets, too.
"Father Wilhelm!"
"Richard. What's the matter?"
"Nothing. I— I just thought we could talk."
The smile he gives you lifts at least half the weariness off his features. "What's on your mind, then?"
"Honestly?" You're sheepishly looking towards the forest opposite your mentor.
He raises his eyebrows at you expectantly, puffing at his cigar.
"I'd just like to get to know you better."
Father Wilhelm's light laughter gets muffled by the sheer density of the forest all around. It's as if the moss and canopy could swallow you all whole. You take some comfort in the fact, as it means that much less sound traveling through the woods.
"Really." You glance back to the priest of Dream. "I've hardly heard anything about you."
"Where to start...?" He's grinning harder. "You know I have five sons."
"Yes." You traveled with them all, straight after you escaped from the ruins of Ostedholm. "I still owe you all my life."
"I didn't have to talk any of them into going to rescue you, you know. Didn't have to encourage any of them growing up to serve the Church of Dream in any way, either!" His grin falters almost imperceptibly. "Their mother did."
"You were married...?"
"Oh, goodness, no!" He laughs harder. "Didn't mean to say it like that. Brianne was an outstanding mother. She raised my first four boys almost entirely on her own."
You've heard of this custom. Plenty of Corcaeans believe that the ability to invoke comes from one's blood. This misconception— combined with how most families bring their partners and children into the Church for greater quality of life— has led to many demands that church leaders such as Father Pevrel take a concubine. It eliminates any stigma that would otherwise come from being unwilling or unable to bear children. And in a world where the last of humanity is dying...
You quietly walk, nod, and remain respectful. It's honestly none of your business if Father Wilhelm prefers to bed men or women, and you're not one to pry into matters like this, anyways.
"She died giving birth to Teddy."
You stop walking. "I'm so sorry."
He keeps walking, encouraging you to follow him. Smiling a little more sweetly to himself, Father Wilhelm murmurs, "it's alright. We had many long and happy years together, and she left me with the greatest reminder of her life that I could have asked for."
Father Pevrel finally calls for a break just before nightfall. Archery practice is grueling as always. You're on fire from the arch of your back to the tips of your fingers by the time you have to wrap things up. There's been a little progress every day, though, and you're confident that you'll be able to do wonders once your bow is in better order. That, or when you can get your hands on a properly made weapon.
In the dead of night, you talk your friends into some moonlit fishing. It's simply too pretty outside to refuse, and you all are infinitely too tired to not get off your feet.
Thousands of stars swim overhead, and the fish swimming below hardly knows what hits them. The contest between you and Father Wilhelm rages to see who can get the bigger haul, and Father Pevrel is made to carry it all back to shore, of course.
You all travel through the night, like usual.
At the crack of dawn, you fall asleep at a hastily made camp with a smile on your face. The ache in you has been dying down by the hour, and you're feeling much better already.
Having slept like shit, you redouble your prayer the following morning to all of the Gods.
Carving your bow with respect to Dream comes for a good, long hour afterwards. The artistry that you're capable of is nothing like what Adwin or Father Wilhelm can produce, but you know you're coming along as a creator, and try to give yourself some credit. Father Pevrel has to drag you away from the campfire halfway through the process, and you use your ability from the green dahlia for the rest of the venture. Only when your hands and soul are stinging do you find a way to stop.
Instead, you set about exacerbating the sting in the rest of you! It's not enough that you're shedding weight like a madman. You need to do so like a God. Additional exercise is added to the day's routine, incorporated throughout the hike. You even give Father Wilhelm a ride on your back through most of it, resulting in his immense gratitude, and a burn in your legs and core unlike anything you could have achieved on your own.
You're pretty sure that you're feeling the burn in places that don't even have muscle, by the time you're through. It's probably just your joints screaming at you again, as you've tested the upper limits of human endurance over three solid hours of intense exercise. It doesn't come as a shock to anyone that you have to shamble half-dead to the Morinburn to get washed up.
Collapsing on the shore for a few blessed minutes does the job of luring Father Pevrel out from the shadows.
"We can do this the easy way, Anscham—"
You grin to yourself, and lift an arm for him to drag you away (if he so pleases).
The sound of the priest rolling back his sleeves and hawking phlegm onto his hands registers. He swiftly rubs his palms together. "The hard way, then. Up and AT—!"
Just as he's about to grab at your arm, you lower the limb, roll to the side, and hop to your feet. It gets you positively covered in dirt right after you just washed off.
"Dammit." You stare wistfully back to the river.
"Don't even think about it."
You pout, and place a hand to your robes. "Clean, please."
The garment instantly cleans itself, which does nothing for the dirt now sticking your hair up. You ruffle the short crop out (you remembered to trim it this morning), then throw an arm around Father Pevrel for support anyways.
The two of you make your way back to where Father Wilhelm is resting. The second you let your guard down, Father Pevrel makes a point to smear the spit in his palms on your robes.
"That's disgusting—"
"Ha. It's not like you can't clean it instantly, anyways."
"That's beside the point. This was a gift."
"And?"
"The lord of honor can't appreciate gifts?" You pull your arm off from his shoulder, almost unable to comprehend such a thing. You're a priest of generosity, after all.
"Just what are you implying?"
"You've surely had a present before? Something that you treasure...?"
"We'll get back to you dodging that blow against my title and honor, Anscham." It seems that he doesn't have to think about it. An instant gesture is made with the hilt of his sword towards you. "My sword was a gift, I'll have you know."
"Who gave it to you?"
"The last leader of the Church of Vengeance, Father Albrecht. Remorse has been passed down from his family line, and now to me."
Your expression wilts. You're about to express your condolences, when Father Pevrel scowls at you.
"Remorse is the name of the sword."
"Ah."
"It is a tremendous honor to carry it."
You lean a little around the man as you both walk, and get a better look at every bit of the weapon protruding from its scabbard. The grip is covered by several bands of black leather. Judging by the pommel, the basinglass that the sword is made of not only comprises the blade, but runs through its entire hilt as well. Despite its glassy surface, though...
"It doesn't glint in the light."
"It takes in the light. It takes in blood, too." The priest of shadow glances down to his weapon, then back to you with a scowl. "Legend has it that this sword was once blessed by the leaders of the Church of Vengeance and Mercy. They imbued this blade with balance unlike any other. This was to be a symbol not of destruction, but of contrition."
You return the man's smile. "Salvation through repentance."
"Be it in life or in death."
Later that night, you find yourself journaling as much as you did when you last studied under a priest of Vengeance. There's a lot to think about. Plenty of regret, and ample subjects that weigh heavily on your conscience— and just as many reasons to be kinder to yourself.
You'd say it's a marked improvement, and sleep well for the first time in many long nights.
You fall into something of a routine, first with prayer, followed by study. It takes you back to how quickly the days flew by during your years spent in the Church of Mercy, but you're determined to make the most of every second now.
Studying The Little King's Law is slow going, as Father Pevrel seems capable of talking about the subject endlessly. At times, you have to encourage the priest of retribution to simply quiet down and read, rather than to share another anecdote about his own church's practices.
Once he's piped down, the two of you plow through the holy book at a reasonable pace, making concessions only for how dilapidated the remaining pages are. It doesn't take much effort to focus. You're not a scholar only because you were made to study. You've devoured knowledge for as long as you've been able to read.
The heavy tome continues to dive into excessive detail on torture methods. There are diagrams on several pages for only the most convoluted and sinister of them.
You and Father Pevrel are blushing so heavily, you really have to say something. "This is crazy."
He's startled so hard when you speak, he nearly falls off the log. Just before he shouts at you, you whisper, "you're going to wake up Father Wilhelm."
The two of you look to the sleeping priest across from the campfire. His nightcap is over his face to keep the sun out from his eyes.
It's impossible to tell if he was roused or not, so Father Pevrel whispers, "of course this is crazy. This 'King' was delusional."
"You can't expect people to be forced to comply through pain." The sadist beside you has a sick glint in his eye. You are quick to add, "excluding me— but I'm already a masochist to begin with."
Father Pevrel's eyebrows raise. "You're just going to come out and admit it, then?"
You don't bat an eye. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."
His eyebrows stay raised. He's still blushing. Father Wilhelm's presence must be what's keeping him from teasing you any further.
You press on. "From what I've experienced, I— I've come to understand that one cannot hope to balance the Gods by Their opposite. They cannot help Themselves or Their nature."
Remembering himself, your mentor's eyebrows come down, and a little heat leaves his face. "A wise enough observation."
"Thank you. Moreover, while the strictness of this law serves itself quite well, it's abysmal at understanding anything about the human condition. We must consider the context of every person's situation. The dynamics of their lives, and— and even the changes that each new day brings—"
"Don't get carried away, Anscham." The Justiciar of Corcaea crosses his arms, and nods to the book. "These may be the ramblings of a madman, but society does need rules if we want it to stand a chance at surviving."
"You can't argue that even the Gods need humans to moderate Them."
"Yes, but—"
"You can't argue that it's impossible to do so with anything like rules and regulations."
"Yes, BUT—"
"Sshh."
"Sorry."
"Thank you."
"Not for interrupting you—"
"Listen, all I'm— all I am saying is that humans must temper themselves, too. We are capable of it. All of us are."
The priest of wrath actually bursts out laughing. "Look who's talking!"
A sudden, sharp breath from Father Wilhelm causes the man to nearly inhale his hat as he wakes up.
You smirk, and laugh at Father Pevrel as he scrambles to hide behind you. "Now you've done it—"
"Don't think I haven't forgotten about the jab you made about my integrity—!"
Late that night, walking among the stars, you and Father Wilhelm are hanging back once more. You detected that an incredibly large animal is nearby. Regardless of whether it's a demon or something natural, you're all whispering again.
"Do you have any hobbies?" You can't hide your grin.
"This again?" The brunette snuffs out his cigar quickly, drenching his face in shadow. You can still see him smiling at you through your hooded lantern's light.
You give him an expectant stare.
"You know I like painting and fishing." He pauses. "Have you ever heard of skiing?"
"What's that?"
"You remember those odd shoes I used to walk on the snow with, the last Time you visited?"
"I do. If I'm not mistaken, you called them... snow shoes?"
"That's right. Well, imagine that, but with two loooong blades of wood strapped to one's shoes, instead. A stick is held in either hand to steer. You can travel swiftly down slopes—" He laughs a little to himself. "I didn't think to mention it at first because— well— it's generally done for practicality's sake."
"You travel along the mountains frequently?"
"I do! I like to keep an eye on things."
"But you enjoy skiing for the sport of it, too...?"
"That I do." He gets a mad grin. "I bet you'd like it, speed demon. Why, if you thought running was a thrill!"
Your imagination runs wild for the rest of the night.
A few illustrations of what you imagine a skier to look like gets added to your journal at dawn.
The sunrise is spent asleep. You Dream of living up to your old nickname. Ray is alongside you on four smaller skis, while you both zip down the Folorast mountains.
The following afternoon, your routine is cemented. Formal prayer is mandatory before you all set out, no matter how much it irks Father Pevrel.
Carving your bow carries on well into the night, along with the last of your killer exercise routine. You're still aching from the prior workout you had earlier this week, but no corners are skipped.
Only in the dead of night do you move ahead from Father Wilhelm's side, and stride up along Father Pevrel.
"Father Pevrel?"
"What do you want."
You shut up, and stride alongside the man for the better part of two hours.
He finally cracks by the third. "What the fuck do you want."
"Nothing."
Four hours.
"Fine, Anscham. You want to talk so badly?"
"Yes."
He practically foams at the mouth with anger. It's a mystery how he manages to stay so quiet while being so mad. "FINE."
Several minutes pass by.
The rage on his stubble-speckled, grime-caked, blood-flecked face fades.
"How would you like to know about my childhood?"
You wish you had a seat to pull up closer. Instead, you keep walking at the man's demonic pace, and nod once to the affirmative.
Father Pevrel lowers his voice even further. His growling is almost incoherent, so you have to lean in and strain to totally understand what's being said.
"I'm not just saying this out of the blue. I mention it because if I acted the way you do around anyone at home— child or no— I would have had my teeth kicked in."
Now is not the time to get into how badly you were bullied as a child (or as an adult, for that matter). You keep quiet.
"I was a runt of a kid, but my mother and father were both clergy of the Church of Vengeance. They instilled the value of honor in me from a terribly young age. Some of my earliest memories are of being punished for wrongs I couldn't perceive the meaning of— but they made me stronger for it." The hard look that he's keeping to the woods dead-ahead grows even sterner. "I learned quickly. Faster than any of my peers."
He suddenly turns to you. "I've always hated animals."
You're not going to let on how uncomfortable you feel. This is likely the only opportunity you'll get to hear this from Father Pevrel. It's fine to keep quiet for a few minutes, and to let him get this off his chest.
"I know you love them, but you should know. I took out much of the aggression I had towards my peers on them. It wasn't right of me, even as a child. No matter what my grievances are, they did not deserve it."
"That is—"
"I'm not done."
You quiet down.
"I practiced on them only so that I would know what I was doing with my enemies. With those who did deserve such treatment. I hid the animals— but I did nothing to hide what I did to other children. I knew that what I did was right."
Father Pevrel stops staring you down, and resumes looking to where you both are walking.
"They deserved it. I was bullied, though for entirely the wrong reasons. Most other kids thought that I was a freak. Most of them had never touched me. They knew better than to tip off my parents to their sin. But that didn't mean that I couldn't hurt them in other ways, too. It taught us all a valuable lesson."
He doesn't elaborate for many minutes. Just when you start thinking that he isn't going to resume speaking at all, Father Pevrel interjects the silence with a small laugh.
"Every single one of them repented, in the end. I have a knack for what I do, Anscham. So, rather than punish me when my work was found out, my parents fought to have me taken formally into the clergy. I was one of the youngest priests to ever serve the Church of Vengeance. My career was watched closely."
A long, relieved, and genuinely happy sigh escapes from your friend and brother in arms. "I didn't have to hide the way that I felt. My urges were rewarded. I was ten when I killed for the first time." His breath hitches slightly. You're given a broad smile. "Do you know what Father Albrecht did with me?"
"...what?"
"He asked me why I did it. I told him why: the young man was a heretic, and openly decried the Church of Vengeance in a public space. When confronted, he not only failed to renounce his ways— he realized my identity, and made an attempt on my life." Father Pevrel has reverted to scowling already. "Death was too good for him, but I could only do so much. I apologized to my Father, but he told me I had nothing to repent for. On the contrary. He took care of my family, and ensured that we were safe in the days that came thereafter."
The man's rough voice softens just slightly.
"My service has helped illuminate why I love violence in the way that I do. Why I love to kill the way that I do. It's about so much more than even retribution or honor."
You recognize the look in his eye. He hasn't been looking to the woods. He's been looking to the shadow within them, and the reminder of Vengeance.
"Causing pain brings me closer to God."
>A] You really should say something. It's not that you're judging Father Pevrel, but... you're kind of judging, and have sworn to the very Goddess of Mercy that you'd help this man. Try to offer a healthier point of view.
>B] It's not that you're pitying him, but... this is actually really sad. Try to be supportive.
>C] You don't really see anything wrong here, but you know that this all has brought Father Pevrel no end of distress in the past. Bring up the fact that following his proclivities has brought him great unhappiness in the most sensitive way that you can.
>D] Don't be an asshole. The man is sharing his life with you. Show him some respect, and let him talk more if he wants. If he doesn't, that's okay, too.
>E] Write-in.
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Florin
Priest of Yech
>D] Don't be an asshole. The man is sharing his life with you. Show him some respect, and let him talk more if he wants. If he doesn't, that's okay, too.
This is intensely fucked up but let's not challenge him when he decides to be honest with us. Keep everything he says in mind for when we have other conversations.
This is intensely fucked up but let's not challenge him when he decides to be honest with us. Keep everything he says in mind for when we have other conversations.
>D] Don't be an asshole. The man is sharing his life with you. Show him some respect, and let him talk more if he wants. If he doesn't, that's okay, too.
100% agree with florin here
100% agree with florin here
>D] Don't be an asshole. The man is sharing his life with you. Show him some respect, and let him talk more if he wants. If he doesn't, that's okay, too.
People don't like being shut down immediately after they express their values and their reasons for following them, so let's wait until he opens the floor for questions or debate before trying to convince him of anything. If we challenge him at such a sensitive time he may resent the fact that he tried to open up at all.
People don't like being shut down immediately after they express their values and their reasons for following them, so let's wait until he opens the floor for questions or debate before trying to convince him of anything. If we challenge him at such a sensitive time he may resent the fact that he tried to open up at all.
Chapter 88: Where the Heart Lies
Alaric
⠀
Chapter 88: Where the Heart Lies
This is intensely fucked up.
Respectful silence hangs in the air between you. The occasional beam of moonlight passes over both your faces as you walk. You keep a neutral expression, while Father Pevrel hasn't stopped looking to the shadow beyond for an instant.
This man is sharing his life with me. Overstepping myself now is the worst thing I could possibly do.
"You are being much quieter than usual." He teases the hilt of his sword. An old nervous habit.
I can save my thoughts for when he's ready to hear them.
"I'm here to listen." It isn't lost on you how big of a step up this is from your behavior even a few months ago. You smile a little to yourself, and invite your friend to continue.
He matches your expression, and glances to you. "You feel it too, don't you?"
Your thoughts on violence are complicated. You're an unstoppable force on the field of battle, but your love of the fight scares you half to death. Memories of decapitating three men in a single swing flashes through your mind's eye. Shoving peasants during a human stampede. Eviscerating fifty men and women in a single attack. Cutting a cultist in half from neck to crotch. Coating your hands in the blood of men and demons alike.
Reaching salvation through violence.
Father Pevrel mercifully keeps talking. "Not everyone is comfortable with the way that it makes them feel. The world is better off for it." Strands of greasy, filthy hair wave as he shakes his head. "I'm not trying to preach, if you can believe it. Nor am I attempting to pretend that everything I have told you before is false. This is something that I've struggled with all of my life. I know that it's not normal. There has been no life for me, outside of serving Vengeance."
He looks heartbroken. "I've felt like a slave to my urges. Nothing has ever come close to satisfying me in the way that killing does. And I've tried it all."
The man's expression suddenly becomes deathly serious. "I wanted a saner life." The past tense isn't lost on you. "A better life. One where I wasn't hated for what I love. For Who I love. Yet I thought if I found another thrill— even a sin— anything else, that I could live with the replacement." He stares hard at you. "I started drinking the same year that I joined the Church of Vengeance. It's one of the only things that's ever 'helped.' It wasn't much longer after that when I took up traveling across the country— going out on every mission that Father Albrecht would permit me to— and getting away with things worse than murder."
Turning back to face the woods ahead, Father Pevrel sighs. "None of that did the trick, either. Do you understand what I'm getting at, Anscham? I have spent a LIFETIME trying to find alternatives. I've also tried to love women. Men, too. I couldn't bring myself to care for any of them. My one saving grace has been that I've sired many children— and take responsibility now for all of the Church of Vengeance as my own. I do love them. That is where my heart lies. My home. My family. Nothing else has EVER mattered. Nothing. Nothing except for—"
He's clenching his teeth so hard, you can hear it. "I'm nothing like you. I've never tried to take my life."
How long has he thought about it for?
An almost imperceptible waver comes into Father Pevrel's voice. "I am grateful above all other things for what God has done for me. You're right about one thing, Anscham. One thing. The Gods are Merciful."
A mixture of bitterness, love, and abject devotion twists his next words into something terrible.
"Vengeance has seen fit for me to serve Him in all ways. I have lived and breathed in His name. And I have been rewarded in turn."
Several long minutes creep by in silence.
Father Pevrel is fighting as hard as he can not to cry. His teeth are grit, he's refusing to look at you, and he seems completely fixated on the darkness ahead.
"I need a drink."
It's been two weeks since you had the chance to resupply in Archenstead. The drunkard has been filling his flask with your own while on the road. But before he can do so much as proposition you for liquor, Father Pevrel quickly rubs at the side of one eye socket with the back of his hand, and takes a deep breath in.
"I wouldn't mind if you had something to say. You don't have to sugar-coat anything. I can take it."
"Father Pevrel—"
"You think I don't hear what they say about me? It wouldn't be anything I haven't heard before. 'I've crawled around in the dirt with the worms and filth of my victims.' 'Old Rot-eye.' 'The Persecutor.' 'The Father of Pain.' 'Murderer.'"
He scowls. "It's all true, too. Though in my case, it's intentional. You may have made enemies in all the wrong places, Anscham, but I have chosen mine carefully. The kind of life I have led has netted me the respect and devotion of countless families who have my Church to thank for JUSTICE. I don't care if I garner equal measures of respect and hatred. At the end of the day, if someone kicks in my teeth, I'll take the blow happily— knowing that my attacker will soon feel the same pain."
He mutters to himself. You can't make it out, and ask as apologetically as you can, "I'm sorry. What was that...?"
"None of this means that I'm infallible." He lifts his gaze to you. Though his voice has leveled out, Father Pevrel looks at you desperately. "You didn't hear me?"
"No."
"You're not just wanting to hear it twice."
"No."
"...I said: We cannot lord over our friends."
>A] Give Father Pevrel a hug, thank him for being so open with you, and let him know that you want to be here for him like this any time. Leave it at that.
>1] You'll try talking to him more often during the trip.
>2] Give him the space he likely needs. You trust that he'll be more receptive if you space out when you try talking to him.
>B] Share some of your thoughts on violence. It's a complicated matter, but you're certain you can handle it.
>C] Share some of your thoughts on temperance. The man's drinking habit is driving him into an early grave.
>D] Honestly, you have way more in common with Father Pevrel than you could have imagined. Illustrate some ways that you're similar (without preaching), but do so only to talk about how you've lived with those issues.
>E] Write-in.
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>B] Share some of your thoughts on violence. It's a complicated matter, but you're certain you can handle it.
Florin
Priest of Yech
>B] Share some of your thoughts on violence. It's a complicated matter, but you're certain you can handle it.
Considering that we are the only man alive to have weaponized Mercy, I think it is safe to assume that violence does have a place. It is a difficult thing to balance, but Pevrel said that he doesn't do violence for the sake of violence but rather for justice. I think the problem here is that he is so accustomed to using violence as his only tool for justice that he never tries to find other avenues for it. When you have a hammer everything looks like a nail.
Ask him how he would do his best to deliver justice if he couldn't EVER hurt someone. Get his noggin joggin a bit.
Considering that we are the only man alive to have weaponized Mercy, I think it is safe to assume that violence does have a place. It is a difficult thing to balance, but Pevrel said that he doesn't do violence for the sake of violence but rather for justice. I think the problem here is that he is so accustomed to using violence as his only tool for justice that he never tries to find other avenues for it. When you have a hammer everything looks like a nail.
Ask him how he would do his best to deliver justice if he couldn't EVER hurt someone. Get his noggin joggin a bit.
Florin
Priest of Yech
I would also like to bring up the fact that we have heard/seen of something that resembles a desert twice now. The first time was when we mind called Astrid via Cardew and saw her in an endless expanse of sand and the second time was when we found the telescope with an etching on it of a "beach without an ocean." I think we should keep this sort of imagery in mind and ask about it the first chance we get to talk to any clergy of Time.