Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

Forbidden Temple of the Great Falls

Status
Not open for further replies.
Suddenly, everyone.

Feeling a bit nervous about the missing limb thing, Alyssa's tanned face paled slightly when Korsarro started waving a severed limb in front of her. How she didn't see it before astounded her, but not anywhere near as much as Kor's grim attachment to a prize that Zato very likely didn't know he had. She was about to berate him and try to take the body part away from the tanner when an armored monk arrived, the one from earlier. Bartholomew.

When he spoke though, she realized it was a case of mistaken identity. She didn't recognize the voice at all, and his question to her he evidently did not recognize Alyssa.

“Alyssa, good sir.” She made the small bow again with her hand over her heart.

Then Vernasus came in. Delightfully clothed and in his usual smoldering persona but surprisingly apologetic.

"It's fine really, you seemed to have a handful of problems this morning."

When Zato spoke to her she felt a slight wave of unease. It was good he was in such good cheer and she didn't want to spoil it with asking about his arm, but her curiosity was raging.

"It's good to be home Zato. With all the craziness that entails. At the moment, some food would be greatly welcome and maybe some assistance with a little duty Kor is excited to help with."
 
Jacob groggily wakes up. It seems that he has been asleep for sometime. The hollow ache in his heart tells him to seek out a new master, as it has been doing for sometime.

The Hollowness echoes in him , reminding him of a task left unfinished. This is unacceptable, for you are a bound servant, a man that must fullfill requests and complete tasks.

The order echoes again, loud and clear in his mind

a wounded man weakly saying the words

"Kill the ducks"
 
"Why yes brother Vernasus, I slept well enough, your monks are quite accommodating considering my huge needs. And I do hope whatever was ailing you this morning has passed or soon shall." Arngeirr stands patiently behind Alyssa, waiting for the monks to properly greet what appears to be an old friend. He smiles pleasantly, always putting on a gentlemanly face.

Then he noticed the severed limb Korsarro was holding.

"I say old bean, how long have you had that?" he asks, unsure if he should reprimand the monk or simply be curious. Caution was best, he assumed, as there were many things about this place he did not understand. "And where did you-"

He remembered Zato's injury and a sickening realization came over him. "Is that Zato's?" he asked, fearing he already knew the answer.
 
Alyssa. Her face was marred, but she was doubtless still a maiden. And maidens should be protected! But this woman carried about an air of confidence that spoke of experience in battle. She was the type to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with, not to have cowering behind. It would probably do well to remember that. "Well met milady."
 
Quickly freshening up and straightening his suit. Jacob quickly goes back to the kitchen for a bite to eat. He must be at peak performance if he is to serve properly
 
"Well, if either of you are hungry," Zato replied to them, leaning on his cane.
"I've laid out sausages and ale in the dining hall, along with some hash browns. But is breakfast really the only thing you needed? Surely you know you're welcome to food at any time."
 
Korsarro nods "It is, I planned to take it to the Tannery and preserve it, human flesh makes for surprisingly good leather. I got side-tracked with greeting the guest and ended up here though" Korsarro shakes his head grimacing "Today is not my day it seems." He takes another large gulp, noting that there are at least 2 more in the tankard. He turns to Zato "Do you have any requests for the leather? Since it's your arm you get first rights to what it's used for after all."
 
"Hm, no.... I can't think of anything I could need of leather, at the moment." Zato replied to the not so huge monk.
 
Morr looked at the disaster unfolding before him, eyeing the unconscious man, 'Mr Rattles' and the girl. Keeping his eyes set upon the source of the ragged breathing. Sighing, still feeling nothing, not even dread of telling her that the man was on the edge of death, Morr rose from his bed again and made his way to her.

Again he knelt, mechanically forcing himself to set a hand on her shoulder, but was too weak to grant her an embrace to protect her against death's taunt.

Morr answered the child's pleading "I am sorry, child, but what... 'mister rattles' suffers is something far beyond my abilities. However, rest assured that brother Blake watched over him and was able to prevent what... 'Malfeas' suffered." He beheld the man, perhaps for the first time truly. He saw a withering corpse barely clinging to life, a release from the torment through simple dying seemingly a merciful act in and of itself.

"Know this, milady, that if this man would yet suffer what Malfeas suffered, then it would not be unwelcome for him." ignoring the weariness he felt whenever he saw dying men, Morr continued "Know that not always do we have to think that they are gone, but rather that they have gone to a different place, a place from whence they look down on us, while- while-" he swallowed "- while being happy at our accomplishments, cheering for us whenever we think of them, urging for us to go on, for them."

Closing his eyes, ignoring all the apathy and self-loathing he felt, he took Mary in his arms, hugging her "And even if they would not, we can be happy to have known them, to keep their memory always within us, living on to honor what they passed onto us."
 
Brother Vernasus grabs himself a bottle of wine from the kitchen counter and wanders back through into the dining hall. He sits down at the empty table once more, sipping at the wine as he finally gets around to eating breakfast.


Must keep calm, He thinks to himself. No point letting that little fool get me in trouble with Master Wolfram. His time will come, oh yes... and I can't wait to see the look on his ugly little face, when it does.

Vernasus sat sipping at the wine, quietly plotting to himself.
 
As Jacob enters the kitchen, he is greeted by the faces of what seems to be almost everyone he met when he entered here. Besides the monks, the huge man, the knight and the little girl that tears at his heart in a way he does not know, there seems to be a newcomer to the crowd, a woman with an air of a warrior.

"Greetings, everyone. I am Jacob Laplace, wandering bound butler. I am afraid I have been asleep for sometime, and am now quite famished, does anyone have any sort of nourishment? I can prepare some if you want."
 
Mary buries her head into the Knight's chest, tears still flowing, although slower than before

her red, puffy eyes look up into the Knight's face

"B-but I-I don't want him to leave..."

"H-He's m-my f-f-f-friend" again the tears flow, dampening the knights clothing.

her tiny arms grasped around him she pulls herself tight against his chest.
 
Alyssa helped herself to a bowl and started ladeling out some of the stew.

"Zato, good Arngeirr here was also looking for you earlier. You seem to be getting quite popular these days."

She started looking around for a spoon while keeping out of everyone's hustling and bustling.
 
"Ah, so many new voices!" Zato exclaimed.
"I was just telling them, I made breakfast, it's in the dining room."
"Now, what exactly did you need, Mister Arngeirr?"
 
This scene, is not what Jacob expected when he entered the kitchen, but at the corner of his eye he spots something that he has been looking for.

A family of ducks

The Hollowness rings louder, demanding the order be carried out.
'but, that is the little ones-'
The Hollowness remains adamant. Orders must be carried out. Favors completed. Request fulfilled. We are butler. WE MUST SERVE

Finally deciding, Jacob takes out his knives and cutlery and begins approaching the ducks
 
At that moment, Wolfram gently taps on the open door of the hospice with a thick book, slipping in as he slips the tome into his robes. He gives a bit of a start at Mary, clutching his covered arm to himself before realizing he's doing so and merely shifting it behind his back. Still, no need to have the child be told this a second time. "Ah, Miss Mary, how glad I am to see you here. You see, I've been a bit worried about whether or not the ducks that wander the grounds have recently been getting enough mat in their diet. They're often in the gardens and I would hate to think any harm might befall them from overeating plants. If you wouldn't mind, could you take them some sausage from the kitchens?" Turning with a smile, he nods to Mary. "And I'm certain you'd know better than anyone if anything was wrong about our feathered friends, right Mary? Not to mention with how they like to wander, if anyone could find them it would be you."
 
"I say, venerable Zato. I assume you remember the story I told of my dear father Anvindr, who was huge, and my family's relic. I was hoping that you, being a senior monk, would allow me access to the reliquary today, so that I may see if the key to my father's shame is there."

"Well met, honored Laplace," Arngeirr says as the buttler walks in. Upon seeing him approach the Quacks - whom Arngeirr has sworn to protect - he eye the butler wearily. "I say old bean, I hope you do not intend to continue this pursuit! Mary would be most displeased if you did this!"

He rolls neck and shoulders, slapping one meaty fist into the other. His eyes narrow once more as the might of Anvindr family begins to burn in his huge breast. "And I should say, old bean... so would I."
 
Allowing the child to use him as her anchor, Morr forced his eyes to focus on hers "Do not think that you would never see him again, child. Keep going, always keep going and then, even if he would vanish now, you will some day meet him again, some day when you will be able to tell him all that you- " he had to swallow again, blinking behind his helmet, his hands trembling "- you have done, all the deeds that you did for him, all that you had to suffer and how- how-" a single tear escaped his eyes "-how thinking of them always kept you going. Never stopping. Never- " he had to pause "- never forgetting any of them, no matter how much you may suffer for it, you will always emerge victorious if you keep their memory true."

He closed his eyes, another tear "Your flesh may rend, your bones may sunder, you may be mocked, you may be abused, you may be hated, but those who you remember, every single one of them, every act of kindness, will keep you strong, no matter what may stand before you."

It was then that the librarian he had seen at his arrival approached them, asking for Mary and Devlin.

Taking a deep breath, Morr let his right lightly stroke the child's hair, careful not to let the rough edges of his gauntlet hurt her "You must go now, child. But, I promise you this: As long as I stand guard here, this man shall not be felled by any mortal nor immortal foe."
 
Zato took a minute to ponder the request. Arngeirr was quite a gentleman, and certainly eager to help others. If he had intended to steal something, he would have done it last night and left....
"Of course you may, Arngeirr. On the condition that you do not touch anything else. There are some dangerous objects in that room. Though, I was considering taking a look for something myself...."
 
Yet another new face showed up in the kitchen. It was good to see the temple was full of fresh individuals, especially a butler. Valetni more than likely appreciated the extra help in keeping the place clean what with a family of ducks and the monks running about.

Alyssa kept up her search for eating ware of any kind when she noticed Laplace produced some and was approaching some ducks despite their evident agitation.

"Ah, Laplace was it? I can't find anything to eat with if you wouldn't mind helping me."
 
"So, Brothers that have been here for sometime, I quite enjoyed a bit of exertion in the presence of beehives. But I was wondering if there might be some area or facility where such activities are more commonplace?" Al turns and greets yet another new arrival, this one being of quite proper stature. He sames to be quite intent on something quacking softly in the corner. "Why hello sir, and who might you be?"
 
she removes herself from the knight

"T-Thank you Mister Morr, please look after him"

she turns to the Master Monk

"I'll go check on the Quacks" she suggests and her bare feet pitter-patter as she runs out of the room.
 
Korsarro took another gulp, pondering what he could make with the leather before noticing Laplaces movement towards the ducks. He shook his head "It's not worth it. You'll have the whole of the Temple at your throat before you can even leave the room Butler. Put the cutlery down. And step away." He raised the tankard once more, draining it of its contents and drawing the same cleaver from the day before from the sash across his chest. "More leather is always welcome if you still wish to continue this course of action. As I said that you clearly missed. Human flesh makes for good leather." He places the tankard down and focuses on the butler. He would not allow this. He may have been slightly unhinged. QUIET YOU. But he was still a monk. And monks stood for something, last he had checked.
 
Two hours later, with his task in the crypt completed, Valetni gently places the body of brother Malfeas back into his resting place, sealing it once more. He begins his slow walk back through the crypts, pausing to have a short conversation with brother Quolly, dead for three hundred years next Wednesday, if the runes on his grave were to be believed (Quolly himself insisted that he was only two hundred three next Wednesday, but he also addressed Valetni as 'Dumount')

Emerging once again into his library, Valetni quietly takes his place at his desk, shuffling through faded yellowed notebook after faded yellow notebook, dozens of them. Twenty-eight years of research, fifty six volumes, and he was going to have to acquire volume fifty seven soon enough. He quietly wrote down his observations while they were still fresh in his head, forcing himself to. Who knows, maybe when all this dreadful business was done he could have them published. He gave a sad smile as a bittersweet memory was tugged from his mind, he had used to write poetry for Valerie, her joke has always been that he could be a quite accomplished poet, if only he would submit them for publishing. A single tear fell upon the open page.

Angrily he snapped the journal closed, roughly shoving it into the desk, slamming the draw and locking it with the key that hung around his neck. Breathing heavily, he stood, making for the trap door.

He could still remember the night he burned the poems.

The same way she had burned.
 
He was about to fulfill the order, and finish it all. He was close, it can feel it. But suddenly the womanly warrior inquired him about something. Another brother monk joins her in the inquiry

New people, new chances to serve.

"Good day, sirrah and madam. I believe we have not been introduced. Im Jacob Laplace, bound butler. May I ask what is your name?"
 
Status
Not open for further replies.
Back
Top Bottom