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Forbidden Temple of the Great Falls

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The small girl hurries into the room, easily flowing past the crowd and managing to only bump against a couple of them, completely ignoring the gathering she makes her way over to the cupboard in the corner where she kneels down and stares at it's feathered occupants.

her hands on her thighs she leans forwards, head inside the cupboard, to look at them

they seemed ok, and they were in here when the alarms rang, but if something happened and the Master Monk was worried about the ducks, then maybe something was wrong with them...
 
Giving a smile and a cheerful wave as Mary departs, Wolfram nods to himself as he turns to the bedfallen knight. "She will grow to be a fine young lass if that girl listens to but a tenth of the things she has heard here. Thank goodness she's taken every word to heart, no?" With a smile that is perhaps a bit more grim than he planned, and with a smoothness of motion that likely shows exactly as much of the combat-acquired balance Wolfram developed in his 'youth', as it were, the so called librarian pulls up a chair across from where Morr rests, taking a seat.

"Now then, I have my own part to say, but first it would be impolite not to address your own concerns before my own. I hear you have been looking for me to speak to?"
 
Ah, you are Sir Zato, I believe? The highest ranking monk in the monastary?
"Splendid! I am here to seek assistance on my quest, but before that a certain disabled man from yesterday asked me to kill the ducks. Im afraid as a bound servant, it is my duty to carry out any orders given to me, unless of course someone of higher rank orders otherwise."
"Does that answer your question?"
 
"Well, I don't exactly run the place, and I don't go on journeys as often as I used to." Zato replied.
"But I still can't allow you to take these Quacks. They're our pets."
 
Everyone seemed particularly protective of the ducks, it was possible they were somehow tied to the artifacts. Which doubly made the butler's quest to end their lives alarming. Cautiously Alyssa set the bowl of stew and wooden case down, her frame tensing up in anticipation. It seemed a silly thing to get in a fight over ducks, but she'd seen the horrors innocuous trinkets could wreck.

"Who gave you this order, Butler Jacob?"
 
>"But I still can't allow you to take these Quacks. They're our pets."
Thats what he said.
The Hollowness is torn, in cannot decide. Two conflicting orders, bothe need to be fulfilled.
But this Zato is of higher rank. And he will help us find the Little One.
Very well.

"Well madam, it was the injured janitor that ordered me. Valetni I believe"

"Ah I see, Sir Zato, is that a direct command? Im afraid as a bound servant, I must be sure of what orders to follow."
 
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Morr turned to the man in response "By all respect, sir, it was not you specifically I sought when I travelled for this temple, but rather anyone who could answer this question for me, although I may have to elaborate a little: I have been a knight for as long as I care to remember, my purpose and desire only to follow the path of righteousness, standing for those who cannot stand for themselves. I may have made mistakes, certainly, but I always followed the purpose and did my best to never stray.

But, I have also lived a long time, not as long as some of your monks, but enough to have seen so many die, some following the same purpose as I, some being those I should have been able to save. I can not change the past, but over these many years I have grown weary. I have lost all my hope for a future, I have grown what could be best described as apathetic.

I have continued in my purpose, despite all, always defending those who would be swept away if villains had their way, but I no longer feel even the most remote emotion demanding that I do. Whenever I look at someone, I see nothing but an object that will soon wither and die, one whose existence serves only to further its own existence, not someone whose need for help should justify my own existence. I fear I have come to look at them the same way I do myself.

I have lost faith in the purpose and thus myself, but I still continue to follow. I am beginning to be afraid of what I might have become.

My question is: Can I regain faith in my purpose?
 
Arngeirr remains silent, simply folding his huge arms over his big burly chest. He eyes Mary warily, making sure this odd butler doesn't try anything rash. Not that he would, would he? His loyalties seemed to be in flux, wanting to follow everyone's orders at once. A strange one this... perhaps an attempt to be a gentleman, but to have no will or heart of one's own? Servitude was not the path of the gentleman; it was the path of a slave. The huge gentleman was not sure he liked this Laplace. But nonetheless, he would refrain from speaking or acting until it was needed, and there was no reason to doubt or suspect this man. He may not be a true gentleman, but he was certainly polite.
 
Half of Alyssa's mouth sneered at the mention of Valetni. The morbid monk had his hands in the deathly arts more than a proper soldier did it seemed.

“Er, sorry about the introduction. It's Alyssa, and I personally think in the future you should clear any 'orders' from Valetni with another Monk before enacting on them.”
 
Korsarro rubs his temples with his free hand. That damned Valetni. He recalled a time when the janitor was subtle. A time when he would bring Korsarro the corpses in the night so that he could dispose of the evidence. He shook his head, frowning at what the blasted janitor had come to. "By the Beesiah. Has the fool finally gone completely insane?" he says to nobody in particular, mumbling into his own hand.
 
As Zato utters the words, the Hollowness growws appeased. Finally, a clear and concise order to follow. Yes, this will do.

"Very well, Sir Zato. Rest assured, this ducks will not be harmed by my hands."
"Miss Alyssa, I thank you for your advice. I shall take heed of it. Dont worry."
 
As things became clear, Jacob notice another person in the vicinity. Another brother, it seems. Ashamed at this lack of courtesy, Jacob quickly acknowledges the man.

"Do forgive me for my rudeness, kind sir. I was preoccupied with other pending orders. Greetings, I am Jacob Laplace. What is your name sirrah? And how may I serve you?"
 
Wolfram's eyes don't waver as the man before him speaks. Rather, they are the same calm, composed eyes that Brother Vernasus was faced with earlier that morning. After letting Morr's last words ring out into silence for a few thoughtful seconds, Wolfram slowly sighs to himself. "This... is a very difficult question to answer. You ask if you can regain faith in your purpose, and yet you have traveled hundreds of miles for a single glimmer of hope about your cause.

You wonder if you have become inhuman, staring into the void of death so often and knowing it stares back, and feel as though you can no longer consider anything human. And yet you feel ashamed, terrified, even, by these thoughts and feelings. You view yourself a mindless tool, yet seek independently to free yourself of this condition.

Tell me, if you are afraid you have lost all reason to have hope, why have you come here hoping for an answer?" Wolfram sighs, lifting up his sleeve and undoing the cloth bindings covering his 'penance' for the impatience and overzealousness of his youth. The thing is twisted, a grotesque mockery of what an arm should be, the three fingered hand large enough to crush a man's skull in its grip an even darker shade of red than the dried-blood color that paints the rest of the arm. With a rather cringing smile, Wolfram shifts it about before lowering it, talking as much to himself as to the injured man before him. "...We all have our demons to face... our sins to bear. Some are less... metaphorical, than others. But so long as we have a shred of hope somewhere inside us, so long as at the end of it all we can say we at least tried to make the world better, I think no one and nothing is beyond redemption."

The last words come perhaps a bit sheepishly, and Wolfram smoothly starts to wrap his arm once done. As if on cue, a bowl of cut sausage and vegetables with a small cup of stew is brought in on a platter for Morr, along with a pitcher of fruit punch. Wolfram relaxes a bit, giving the man a respectful time to let both food and words digest as he eats.
 
Arngeirr's arms are folded tightly across his. The crisis seems to have been averted, and little Mary and the Quacks are safe. The huge man's gentlemanly eyes are locked on the butler, who has somehow found a way to completely avoid the giant's presence. Odd, to say the least.

Arngeirr's stomach makes it impossible for him to go unnoticed, however, in the rudest fashion possible. Though he refuses to move, his face begins to glow a bright red.
 
"Ah, are you hungry? Breakfast is in the dining hall. It's not good to starve yourself, you know." Zato said as he heard the rumbling.
 
Brother Vernasus finished off the bottle of wine and devoured the last remnants of his breakfast before quietly getting up from his seat and wandering off out into the gardens.

The air was cool as the sun shone down on the grass. Vernasus slipped off his shoes and approached the clearing in the middle of the hives.

He stood for a moment, the air still and silent as he inhaled deeply through his nose, pulling his arms into his body and curling his fingers tight into his hands with only his index fingers and thumbs left extended. His arms moved slowly outwards as he exhaled loudly through his mouth.

And then... his battle meditation began. An incredibly loud buzzing filled the air of the garden as the bee's swarmed out of their hives and surrounded Vernasuses heavily muscled form, completely covering his arms and legs.

Occasionally Vernasus lets out a loud animalistic grunt as his body ebbs and flows through the air like water trickling down a mountain. He strikes out at nothing over and over again, lashing out with a different attack each time... first with his arms, then his fists, then his knees, legs and feet. His body remains ever in motion as he fights off his invisible assailants, with the bee's following his every move, constantly surrounding him as if attached.
 
Ah, a brother of another monastery. Perhaps they would be of assistance if this monastery could not help him in his quest.
"Very well, sir Al. If you ever need anything, at all, give me a call. "

But then, as the butler finishes talking, he hears the grumbling of a poor, unfed stomach. this will not do, no sir. Jacob turns to the huge man from earlier, which seem to be the source of the sound.

"you seem to be famished great sir. Perhaps you would like some tea while i prepare something form the kitchen?"
 
Staring at the man's oversized arm, rather a viscious claw than anything human, until Wolfram wrapped it anew, Morr had to answer, with some relent "Perhaps, I have not lost all faith in my cause, perhaps it is indeed that small remnant that made me seek you out in the faint hope you might be able to help me. Perhaps, I am incapable of viewing myself as anything else but a tool to my cause, I myself empowered in the faith I can have in it.

My question has been answered; it seems I can yet regain the faith in my purpose, my apathy non-withstanding.

If I may ask a second question, thus: Can you help me with this?"

He was ignoring the food for now.
 
"I say old bean," begins Arngeirr, "I don't think tea would do much to slake my hunger, but thank you nonetheless. Though I do believe venerable Zato has set out sausage and other odds and ends for us to eat..."

Arngeirr is a huge man. Not only that, but even among his own people, his physique is mighty and requires a great deal for him to function normally. The supplies he had brought with him had run out just before reaching the Forbidden Temple, and the stew from last night, while hugely flavorful, had not been huge enough to fill him. The huge gentleman spied the food strewn across the tables... it was time to feed.

Ponderously, as if driven by some otherworldly force, the giant begins to move. He plods over to the food, his eyes gone glossy, and begins to gather everything he can into any empty plate or bowl. A mountain of food befitting only a huge man such as himself is soon prepared, held in his arms, and he moves a safe distance from the others. Setting his mighty meal down, the the huge man sets down in an empty area, the table sagging beneath the weight of so much food gathered in once place. He bows his head, fists held together at his chest as he offers a pray unto the gentlemanly gods of the Hugelands.

As soon as his prayers are finished, the huge man's eyes snap open, and with a vigor bordering on insanity... it begins.
 
Al stares in stupefied, jaw-flapping wonder at the huge man and his meal. It is truly a sight beyond imagination. Were it not for his proven huge-gentlemanliness he might be mistaken for a demon of gluttony. "Arngeirr, remind me to never get between you and that which you wish to consume."
 
With a bit of a chuckle, Wolfram goes back to a shy smile. "I can do what any man can. I can try. Oh, but I shouldn't laugh. It is just... let us say memories of days long past, and leave it at that. Though I was in that bed over there, if I recall." Wolfram points across the room to an empty bed with his wrapped arm, his smile fading as he realizes it and pulls it back to his side.

His face now absent of mirth, though by no means anything but neutral, he turns back to Morr. "Now then. I said at the start that I had my own reason to come talk to you, and I see now that our purposes coincide. You were present throughout the events of yesterday, among others. That incident has been invesigated and on the surface the explanation is simply that a Brother was studying an artifact when things got out of hand. It is not an impossibility, and is in the end entirely true. What has not been told to those not directly involved in those events however, is that upon further questioning the monk who had the artifact brought up for investgation does not clearly remember the Whys of his inquiry, or how he even came to such a trail of thought.

What this means is that there is very likely something within the Temple's walls exerting some influence on events, if you understand my meaning. Such a presence is not to be tolerated. Not here. Not in this sacred place. But likewise if it has managed to hide here for at the very least a full day, likely longer, than an open search would merely drive it to ground or give it suspicions to twist to its own ends. You yourself likely have experience with situations such as these, and I would informally like to recruit you to this cause."

Taking a breath after his longwindedness got the better of him once again, Wolfram's smile returns. "Come now, I was never much of a gambler, but perhaps providence does provide what is needed when it is needed, hmm? And I would have to be a fool to pass up the dice rolling my way."
 
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