The elderly woman's countenance is kind and welcoming, the light of the brazier flickering in her eyes. "Flame be with you, Lord Lando, and Lady Yvara."She smiles softly. "Yes, I have heard of the Divine Matriarch's call to aid Drakkenheim. It has been many years since the Silver Order was summoned to Westemar, but this catastrophe seems to have warranted it. The nobles of Westemar may be desperate enough to welcome the aid, but many will likely fear it will thwart their own plans." She looks deeply at Roman, and then at Lando. "I sense there is more to your tale. All is not well between your cause and that of the Silver Order, is it? An Elyrian invasion for the good of a foreign nation during a crisis, perhaps this does not sit well with you? Or perhaps you have another purpose in traveling to Drakkenheim, yourself, that you fear the Silver Order will stand in the way of? What truly brings you to Westemar? There is something special about you, Brother Roman."
She sighs. "Many travel to Drakkenheim, it is a place of great danger, and there are a lot of nobles in Westemar funding a military effort to retake it... how futile that is, I couldn't tell you. I've not seen it, but I've heard the stories, and unfortunately what has afflicted Drakkenheim has come downriver to us on the Drann. Even here at Saint Rosalind's we have not escaped its effects. There is an eldritch poison in the river, and even the resting saints cannot abide it." She shakes her head. "May the Flame have mercy on them, and on me, who am far too gone in my years to address them properly and return them to their rest!"
Irma looks up thoughtfully. "It is no longer safe to travel on the river, so you will have to take the road. Most folks take the road from here through Glothfen north to Altbruke, and from there east to Drakkenheim. As for accommodations in Todesfeld for strangers, if you need a place to stay cheaply, there is the Smoke Street Flophouse down the street from here. Otherwise, the Gavel and Gauntlet Tavern has a few rooms upstairs, and a good stable. It's in the southern part of town, past the floodzone."
" Alas and oh well, I have to reconcile that I am seeing wond'rous constructions and fortitudes erected by my fellow man, and that I am seeing what I know to be aberrant horrors of malportentious design anathemic to the natural order beyond my fellow man's ingenious constructions. I look for joy and comfort and I see many suffering on death's door. There's also mud which is curiously caked on my footwear and I suspect is normal, and yet yet there is the curious water I am seeing. Viscous, rancid water that is an affront to water. Water which many not be clean, but which can be cleaned without magics with some duress. I can only assume that incredible magic would be of the utmost necessity to make some of this water consumable. Yet here lies grand structures, and presumably, not even the grandest structures my fellow man has put together...
I have heard from some men in my village that they had gone for a sojourn outside and found that there was plenty and joy to be had. They even said it was the best time of their lives! I would that I could experience what their time had to offer."
"Perhaps yet, in this contentious period weary men have fashioned themselves stiff drink and warm firm beds to satiate our hearts and minds. Perhaps yet, even fanciful and defiantly joyful music."
Looking into the warm eyes of the High Flamekeeper, he feels them peering deep into his soul. Something inside him tells him that she can be trusted. Maybe she was the shadowy figure from his vision of St. Rosalind's? Looking about him he leans in to her " I don't know if I would call me special, your Holiness. I have had dreams, some might call them visions. One of them directed me here, I saw the Grand Pyre and shadowy figure and felt something in my soul pulling me here. M'Lord and his wife were making a pilgrimage to Westemar and I begged them to take. In his mercy Lord Lando agreed to take me with them. "
Sensing that there was more to be said, the High Flamekeeper leads Roman to a nearby pew and with a inviting pat of her hand tells him to sit. Taking a seat beside her he stares in to the dancing flames of the Grand Pyre. " There is more, I see Drakennheim and what happened to it. I see monsters and unspeakable horrors, and then a blinding light. I don't know what it means, I don't know why see it, I just know it to be the truth and that my path leads to Drakkenheim." Hanging his head in his hands " Is the Flame trying to warn me or tell me something?Why me? What can I do, I am a nobody." Sighing he raises his head "But it is because of the visions that the Silver Order concern us and we tried to deceive you, apologies your Holiness. We have heard stories on the road of some people being purified by the flame by the Silver Order" Looking into her eyes " It is said that in the light of St. Rosalind's Flame the truth of the Flame will be revealed. What should I do your Holiness? I feel something pulling me to Drakkenheim, I don't know why, but I know with every fiber of my being that it be true."
Standing and offering a hand to assist the High Flamekeeper to her feet " Perhaps we can be of some help to you. You say that the saint's rest has been disturbed, maybe we can help lay them back to rest?"
Growing up in Liberio means growing up with familiar stenches looming around. No matter what the nobles say and no matter how many bouquets they arrange around their households, there is no escaping it. So, while Elena is no stranger to foul smells, nothing could have prepared her for what emanated from the city. She managed for an hour or so before unravelling a silk handkerchief to cover her nose and mouth with. In the dwindling twilight, she spares a glance towards the ruins of the dam.
She says. “Yes, I’m sorry that this should be your first city. They don’t all look this drab. Or smell this bad.” Her nose wrinkles as a gust blows a particularly odious smell her way. "Don't get me wrong, all cities possess an odour inherent to them, but this seems to be the foulest yet. There's inns around here perhaps, but if you're looking for joys, I'm afraid you may need to search elsewhere." She looks around and the movement of worshippers towards the cathedral catches her eye. Not for her but for Moksad. “If you’re still curious about the Sacred Flame, you could watch one of their rites. Perhaps one of the Flamekeepers there could also answer your question.”
*Lando Listening Intently* Pardon my intrusion, but the Flame has granted me youth in my muscles, if there is something quick we can do to assist you, please allow us. All I ask, if you see more wayward travelers heading to Drakkenhiem, tell them of a sanctuary to be set up there for the lost. We will set up a spire of hope for those soul, tell them to look for the spire and we shall guide them there to the flame.
*Yvara looks and pulls at Lando* Excuse us for a moment your Holiness. *Yvara and Lando walk a distance away just out of earshot*
Yvara speaks: My sweet what is the meaning of this? Any further delays, keep us from reaching our destination. Maybe you do not care of the falling flame as I. This was one detour we didn't need and now you and Silverstar propose another.
And what is this Spire of Hope? Do you mean to set up another belief to contrast our teachings? explain yourself my love.
Dearest, calm yourself. There is a method to my madness I assure you, Silver Star is destined to be with us, so we must be with him. He has visions of the falling fire; although he may not realize it, I do. We will travel with him to Lucretia and allow her to see his potential. He may very well be the conduit to the flame. I will be his shield until our destinies are filled. You can tell can't you, his future is tied to the falling fire. We must be the ones to deliver him to his greatest potential!
As for the spire of hope, any other wayward souls that come this way need to seek us out, more believers for the falling fire, more eyes to witness how bright our Silver Star can shine my love. In time you will come to understand what I mean by these words. Let us rejoin them.
I am unsure of what you see in him, I trust your judgment for now, but Lucretia will be the judge of his potential, all the more reason to get him to her as soon as possible, the more we sit around, the faster the Silver Order gain on our trail. If that happens who knows how freely we will be able to move.
*grabs her hand*My love your faith is strong, might you share some of that faith in your betrothed, I will keep all of us together while we make our journey. *Intensely staring in her eyes* Let us be done with this talk my sweet, I have not forgotten why we initially began our travels.
*Yvara begrudgingly nods in agreement and the pair return to Roman's side*
Flamekeeper Irma listens compassionately to Roman, patting his hand every once in a while. "It is no easy task to do the will of the Flame," she says. "Such visions, there are those plagued by them, and, it seems, some greater force reaches out to the world through the abomination that struck Drakkenheim. Whether these visions come from the Flame, or from some malevolent force that has been unleashed that seeks to draw visionaries into its grasp, I cannot say. But I fear if we do not act, it will mean our destruction. Perhaps the Flame has chosen you to play a part in standing against this darkness. We must carry the Torch high and stand against the evil that has gripped Westemar. Without action, the darkness will only spread. Our faith is the Light that guides us, that tells us how to do what is right, even when all seems darkness around us. If you are faithful, I do not think the Silver Order will have a qualm with your quest. They travel to Drakkenheim themselves only to stand against a great evil."
Irma smiles. "What should you do? Follow the Flame. Follow the promptings of your heart. Our souls will all be laid bare in the end, and every misdeed will be answered for. Drakkenheim is a dangerous place, but it needs good people." She takes his hand and slowly rises, supporting herself on the pew with her other hand. "Go to Drakkenheim, Brother Roman. I think you will find your purpose there."
As Lando approaches to make his offer, Irma laughs gently. "Ah, noble knight! You both make a generous offer. I will show you the door to the crypts, but I have long sealed it, and I am loathe to open it again." She smiles at Yvara, who smiles back only tentatively. "Come with me, and I will show you. A sanctuary for the lost, in Drakkenheim? So many are lost there, corrupted by the desire for riches and arcane power. Desperately do they need one to be a Candle in the darkness to them." She chuckles again, endearingly. "Brother Roman, it sounds as though your companions have quite a vision for their purpose in Drakkenheim. I know you are still uncertain about yours. But it will come to you. Do not be afraid to illuminate the visions of others until yours becomes clear."
Down the length of one of the aisles of the church, passing by the columns whose long shadows dance and flicker in the light from the Pyre, Irma leads them to a set of large wooden doors. She unlocks them with a key hung around the cord at her waist, and down into the darkness a set of stone stairs descends. Irma lifts up her prayer beads and speaks a prayer, and the pendant of the Flame fastened to the end of the beads flares with a brilliant Light the spills over down across the steps. Slowly, Irma begins to descend.
The stairway winds down only a short distance before the stone steps become slick with mold. "Watch your step,"the High Flamekeeper calls. "When the dam broke, the crypts flooded, and a damp still clings here."
At the bottom of the staircase, a set of massive iron doors looms, bolted and chained to be utterly immovable. A musty, dank smell, as that of a cave, permeates the dark air. The iron doors, despite their formidable and utilitarian appearance, are engraved with holy prayers in Celestial, and elegantly carved stone fonts to either side of them hold clear water that seems to exude a purity lacked by the rest of the water in Todesfeld. "I keep these filled with holy water," Irma says, "and the floods have never risen higher than the base of these fonts." She lifts her prayer beads up, the Light dancing across the water in the fonts. She sighs. "These crypts were a holy place, a place to pray for the intercession of the deceased saints interred here, but they aren't useable anymore. I have been unable to reconsecrate them since the flood damage, and the saints... they are restless. I believe... they have seen the darkness that is coming. Perhaps much as you have, Roman."
As the trio walk towards the Crypts, Roman responds to the High Flamekeeper " Lord Lando's faith and conviction in my visions has beeen nothing sort saintly his belief in me is a constant source of strength and support to me." bowing his head towards Lando " I wouldn't be here with him, and I will always be grateful to him for it."
"Thank you for your advice and guidance your Holiness, it soothes my soul to hear it." Looking to the Grand Pyre "I wonder if the saying about the finding the truth under St. Rosalind's Flame has more to do with it's Flamekeeper of the last 50 years, than the pyre." Giving the High Flamekeeper a playful wink.
Standing straight and steadying himself "I shall put my faith and trust in the Flame, under the Flame the truth shall be revealed" As they come to the crypt doors and descend down the to the iron doors. He looks to Lando "I suppose we can take a look, what's the worse that can happen?"
Ofcourse we can lay the Saints to rest. Yvara and High flame keeper Irma, please behind me. Your holiness can direct me and Silverstar to prepare for saints for their final rites. My beloved need not get her hands dirty with with preparations.
when you say restless, you mean they move among the living? *places hand on sword, raising 1 eye brow to look at Irma*
We will be fine either way but your answer dictates how we move forward.
Startled by the the sudden appearance of the shadowy figure, Roman steps in front of the High Flamekeeper and he gently pushes her back toward the wall, giving Lando plenty of swinging room.
"It appears we are not alone. Speak stanger before my friend stirkes you down. You trespass on scared grounds."
The figure stays beyond the circle of light, but a woman’s voice comes from beneath the dark hood, “Apologies, but my curiosity got the best of me. I’ve never known the Flamekeeper to bring guests down to the crypts.”
The words are stilted, partly with nerves and partly with wariness.
"Are you a Flamekeeper? Your Holiness do you know this person?" Peering into the shadows trying to get a look at the figure. "Step into the light and reveal yourself, i do not wish to speak to shadows."
Flamekeeper Irma chuckles. "The wisdom of the old is only as valuable as those young and strong who take it up... so we all pass the torch. But the Flame has a purpose for bringing us together, as it has a purpose that we were born to see these dark days. As the Flame illuminates the world through the holiness of its followers, there are many dark shadows to dispell." She smiles warmly at Roman and Lando, and even at Yvara, although the latter hangs back a little reluctantly. "You may understand that I am reluctant to unseal the doors, but something within tells me that this may be the time."
As Roman steps in front of her to address someone in the shadows, and the someone replies, Irma laughs lightly. "Oh, what a fright you gave me! But now I recognize your voice. My friends, this is Hannah, an afflicted soul who came to me for shelter. And, dear Hannah, you are correct, these crypts are sealed for good reason, for I do not wish any harm to come to my acolytes or my guests. But today I have felt led to make an exception. This is Lando and Yvara of House Spire, and Roman Silverstar of the Order of the Scribes. They come from Elyria, and I believe they may be able to speak to the torments of our saints in a way I have been unable to."
Holding out her holy symbol still shining with Light, Irma gestures to the woman in the dark hood skulking in the shadows. "Don't be shy, my dear, come into the light and introduce yourself to our friends."
Hannah descends the rest of the stairs, but does not remove her hood. She makes an awkward curtsy to the noble and his companions.
”I apologize for my behavior, my lord and lady. It is an honor to meet you.”
Her gaze turns to the Flamekeeper. “If you are bringing these good folks into the crypt, I will affirm my offer of protection, Mother. Although perhaps that is too boastful in the presence of a capable knight such as my lord.”
Hannah verbally blushes and bows her hooded face even further as she seems to recognize her social blunder.
Relaxing at the High Flamekeeper's recognition of Hannah, watching the Hannah step out of the shadows Roman hears for a moment the sound of a pair of great wings. Looking around for a moment he gives his head shake.
Roman steps forward extending his hand "Greetings Lady Hannah, may the Flame light your way." As he extends his hand he tries to get a peek within the hood. " If the High Flamekeeper allows it i don't see why you don't join us. M'lord Lando is skilled warrior but I am afraid i am not skilled myself, I am sure he would like to have someone watching his back." Looking to Lando "what say you M'lord?"
Lando still with hand on sword hilt. “Unveil thyself. Ill travel with no one who hides their face. As a sign of trust, I show you mine and you show me yours.
also, Flame Keeper Irma said you were a girl, afflicted and taken in. Yet you call her mother. Surely there is an explanation to be had?
We need some knowledge from you, or we shall move forward without. How can I trust your capabilities if I cannot trust you.” *Leaning forward slightly looking over his glasses toward Hannah*
Elena leads Moksad to the Cathedral of Saint Rosiland. A grand building compared to the rest of the city, but modest compared to the Cathedral of Saint Fiona in Liberio. She follows the worshippers inside and gives a perfunctory amount of alms for both her and Moksad. She finds them a spot in the outer circles and whispers the basic rituals in hushed whispers. As she speaks, she realises that perhaps Moksad could benefit from someone who actually held faith.
After another moment of hesitation and another glance towards Irma, Hannah reaches up and pulls her hood back. She has pale skin with strange patches of what appear to be bruises in various stages of fading. She has no hair on her head, nor eyebrows. It's hard to judge given her strange appearance, but you would call her features rather plain. She looks at Lando with gray eyes.
"I must apologize again, my lord," she says in a voice barely above a whisper. "''Mother' is a term of endearment given to the Flamekeeper by those of us who know best her qualities of mercy and kindness, but you judge truly that it is a presumption on my part to address such a holy person with such familiarity. My true mother would be red-faced with shame at my behavior here, were she still alive to witness it."
Hannah's eyes find a spot on the floor and stay there, and her hands seem to twitch and flex, as if she is battling with them to keep them from snatching her hood back over her face.
Lando and Roman
The elderly woman's countenance is kind and welcoming, the light of the brazier flickering in her eyes. "Flame be with you, Lord Lando, and Lady Yvara." She smiles softly. "Yes, I have heard of the Divine Matriarch's call to aid Drakkenheim. It has been many years since the Silver Order was summoned to Westemar, but this catastrophe seems to have warranted it. The nobles of Westemar may be desperate enough to welcome the aid, but many will likely fear it will thwart their own plans." She looks deeply at Roman, and then at Lando. "I sense there is more to your tale. All is not well between your cause and that of the Silver Order, is it? An Elyrian invasion for the good of a foreign nation during a crisis, perhaps this does not sit well with you? Or perhaps you have another purpose in traveling to Drakkenheim, yourself, that you fear the Silver Order will stand in the way of? What truly brings you to Westemar? There is something special about you, Brother Roman."
She sighs. "Many travel to Drakkenheim, it is a place of great danger, and there are a lot of nobles in Westemar funding a military effort to retake it... how futile that is, I couldn't tell you. I've not seen it, but I've heard the stories, and unfortunately what has afflicted Drakkenheim has come downriver to us on the Drann. Even here at Saint Rosalind's we have not escaped its effects. There is an eldritch poison in the river, and even the resting saints cannot abide it." She shakes her head. "May the Flame have mercy on them, and on me, who am far too gone in my years to address them properly and return them to their rest!"
Irma looks up thoughtfully. "It is no longer safe to travel on the river, so you will have to take the road. Most folks take the road from here through Glothfen north to Altbruke, and from there east to Drakkenheim. As for accommodations in Todesfeld for strangers, if you need a place to stay cheaply, there is the Smoke Street Flophouse down the street from here. Otherwise, the Gavel and Gauntlet Tavern has a few rooms upstairs, and a good stable. It's in the southern part of town, past the floodzone."
Irma's Insight: 17
Moksad thinks aloud to himself
" Alas and oh well, I have to reconcile that I am seeing wond'rous constructions and fortitudes erected by my fellow man, and that I am seeing what I know to be aberrant horrors of malportentious design anathemic to the natural order beyond my fellow man's ingenious constructions. I look for joy and comfort and I see many suffering on death's door. There's also mud which is curiously caked on my footwear and I suspect is normal, and yet yet there is the curious water I am seeing. Viscous, rancid water that is an affront to water. Water which many not be clean, but which can be cleaned without magics with some duress. I can only assume that incredible magic would be of the utmost necessity to make some of this water consumable. Yet here lies grand structures, and presumably, not even the grandest structures my fellow man has put together...
I have heard from some men in my village that they had gone for a sojourn outside and found that there was plenty and joy to be had. They even said it was the best time of their lives! I would that I could experience what their time had to offer."
"Perhaps yet, in this contentious period weary men have fashioned themselves stiff drink and warm firm beds to satiate our hearts and minds. Perhaps yet, even fanciful and defiantly joyful music."
Roman Silverstar
Looking into the warm eyes of the High Flamekeeper, he feels them peering deep into his soul. Something inside him tells him that she can be trusted. Maybe she was the shadowy figure from his vision of St. Rosalind's? Looking about him he leans in to her " I don't know if I would call me special, your Holiness. I have had dreams, some might call them visions. One of them directed me here, I saw the Grand Pyre and shadowy figure and felt something in my soul pulling me here. M'Lord and his wife were making a pilgrimage to Westemar and I begged them to take. In his mercy Lord Lando agreed to take me with them. "
Sensing that there was more to be said, the High Flamekeeper leads Roman to a nearby pew and with a inviting pat of her hand tells him to sit. Taking a seat beside her he stares in to the dancing flames of the Grand Pyre. " There is more, I see Drakennheim and what happened to it. I see monsters and unspeakable horrors, and then a blinding light. I don't know what it means, I don't know why see it, I just know it to be the truth and that my path leads to Drakkenheim." Hanging his head in his hands " Is the Flame trying to warn me or tell me something? Why me? What can I do, I am a nobody." Sighing he raises his head "But it is because of the visions that the Silver Order concern us and we tried to deceive you, apologies your Holiness. We have heard stories on the road of some people being purified by the flame by the Silver Order" Looking into her eyes " It is said that in the light of St. Rosalind's Flame the truth of the Flame will be revealed. What should I do your Holiness? I feel something pulling me to Drakkenheim, I don't know why, but I know with every fiber of my being that it be true."
Standing and offering a hand to assist the High Flamekeeper to her feet " Perhaps we can be of some help to you. You say that the saint's rest has been disturbed, maybe we can help lay them back to rest?"
Elena Firavanti
Growing up in Liberio means growing up with familiar stenches looming around. No matter what the nobles say and no matter how many bouquets they arrange around their households, there is no escaping it. So, while Elena is no stranger to foul smells, nothing could have prepared her for what emanated from the city. She managed for an hour or so before unravelling a silk handkerchief to cover her nose and mouth with. In the dwindling twilight, she spares a glance towards the ruins of the dam.
She says. “Yes, I’m sorry that this should be your first city. They don’t all look this drab. Or smell this bad.” Her nose wrinkles as a gust blows a particularly odious smell her way. "Don't get me wrong, all cities possess an odour inherent to them, but this seems to be the foulest yet. There's inns around here perhaps, but if you're looking for joys, I'm afraid you may need to search elsewhere." She looks around and the movement of worshippers towards the cathedral catches her eye. Not for her but for Moksad. “If you’re still curious about the Sacred Flame, you could watch one of their rites. Perhaps one of the Flamekeepers there could also answer your question.”
*Lando Listening Intently* Pardon my intrusion, but the Flame has granted me youth in my muscles, if there is something quick we can do to assist you, please allow us. All I ask, if you see more wayward travelers heading to Drakkenhiem, tell them of a sanctuary to be set up there for the lost. We will set up a spire of hope for those soul, tell them to look for the spire and we shall guide them there to the flame.
*Yvara looks and pulls at Lando* Excuse us for a moment your Holiness. *Yvara and Lando walk a distance away just out of earshot*
Yvara speaks: My sweet what is the meaning of this? Any further delays, keep us from reaching our destination. Maybe you do not care of the falling flame as I. This was one detour we didn't need and now you and Silverstar propose another.
And what is this Spire of Hope? Do you mean to set up another belief to contrast our teachings? explain yourself my love.
Dearest, calm yourself. There is a method to my madness I assure you, Silver Star is destined to be with us, so we must be with him. He has visions of the falling fire; although he may not realize it, I do. We will travel with him to Lucretia and allow her to see his potential. He may very well be the conduit to the flame. I will be his shield until our destinies are filled. You can tell can't you, his future is tied to the falling fire. We must be the ones to deliver him to his greatest potential!
As for the spire of hope, any other wayward souls that come this way need to seek us out, more believers for the falling fire, more eyes to witness how bright our Silver Star can shine my love. In time you will come to understand what I mean by these words. Let us rejoin them.
I am unsure of what you see in him, I trust your judgment for now, but Lucretia will be the judge of his potential, all the more reason to get him to her as soon as possible, the more we sit around, the faster the Silver Order gain on our trail. If that happens who knows how freely we will be able to move.
*grabs her hand* My love your faith is strong, might you share some of that faith in your betrothed, I will keep all of us together while we make our journey. *Intensely staring in her eyes* Let us be done with this talk my sweet, I have not forgotten why we initially began our travels.
*Yvara begrudgingly nods in agreement and the pair return to Roman's side*
Lando and Roman
Flamekeeper Irma listens compassionately to Roman, patting his hand every once in a while. "It is no easy task to do the will of the Flame," she says. "Such visions, there are those plagued by them, and, it seems, some greater force reaches out to the world through the abomination that struck Drakkenheim. Whether these visions come from the Flame, or from some malevolent force that has been unleashed that seeks to draw visionaries into its grasp, I cannot say. But I fear if we do not act, it will mean our destruction. Perhaps the Flame has chosen you to play a part in standing against this darkness. We must carry the Torch high and stand against the evil that has gripped Westemar. Without action, the darkness will only spread. Our faith is the Light that guides us, that tells us how to do what is right, even when all seems darkness around us. If you are faithful, I do not think the Silver Order will have a qualm with your quest. They travel to Drakkenheim themselves only to stand against a great evil."
Irma smiles. "What should you do? Follow the Flame. Follow the promptings of your heart. Our souls will all be laid bare in the end, and every misdeed will be answered for. Drakkenheim is a dangerous place, but it needs good people." She takes his hand and slowly rises, supporting herself on the pew with her other hand. "Go to Drakkenheim, Brother Roman. I think you will find your purpose there."
As Lando approaches to make his offer, Irma laughs gently. "Ah, noble knight! You both make a generous offer. I will show you the door to the crypts, but I have long sealed it, and I am loathe to open it again." She smiles at Yvara, who smiles back only tentatively. "Come with me, and I will show you. A sanctuary for the lost, in Drakkenheim? So many are lost there, corrupted by the desire for riches and arcane power. Desperately do they need one to be a Candle in the darkness to them." She chuckles again, endearingly. "Brother Roman, it sounds as though your companions have quite a vision for their purpose in Drakkenheim. I know you are still uncertain about yours. But it will come to you. Do not be afraid to illuminate the visions of others until yours becomes clear."
Down the length of one of the aisles of the church, passing by the columns whose long shadows dance and flicker in the light from the Pyre, Irma leads them to a set of large wooden doors. She unlocks them with a key hung around the cord at her waist, and down into the darkness a set of stone stairs descends. Irma lifts up her prayer beads and speaks a prayer, and the pendant of the Flame fastened to the end of the beads flares with a brilliant Light the spills over down across the steps. Slowly, Irma begins to descend.
The stairway winds down only a short distance before the stone steps become slick with mold. "Watch your step," the High Flamekeeper calls. "When the dam broke, the crypts flooded, and a damp still clings here."
At the bottom of the staircase, a set of massive iron doors looms, bolted and chained to be utterly immovable. A musty, dank smell, as that of a cave, permeates the dark air. The iron doors, despite their formidable and utilitarian appearance, are engraved with holy prayers in Celestial, and elegantly carved stone fonts to either side of them hold clear water that seems to exude a purity lacked by the rest of the water in Todesfeld. "I keep these filled with holy water," Irma says, "and the floods have never risen higher than the base of these fonts." She lifts her prayer beads up, the Light dancing across the water in the fonts. She sighs. "These crypts were a holy place, a place to pray for the intercession of the deceased saints interred here, but they aren't useable anymore. I have been unable to reconsecrate them since the flood damage, and the saints... they are restless. I believe... they have seen the darkness that is coming. Perhaps much as you have, Roman."
Roman Silverstar
As the trio walk towards the Crypts, Roman responds to the High Flamekeeper " Lord Lando's faith and conviction in my visions has beeen nothing sort saintly his belief in me is a constant source of strength and support to me." bowing his head towards Lando " I wouldn't be here with him, and I will always be grateful to him for it."
"Thank you for your advice and guidance your Holiness, it soothes my soul to hear it." Looking to the Grand Pyre "I wonder if the saying about the finding the truth under St. Rosalind's Flame has more to do with it's Flamekeeper of the last 50 years, than the pyre." Giving the High Flamekeeper a playful wink.
Standing straight and steadying himself "I shall put my faith and trust in the Flame, under the Flame the truth shall be revealed" As they come to the crypt doors and descend down the to the iron doors. He looks to Lando "I suppose we can take a look, what's the worse that can happen?"
A dark figure peers down the stairs, just beyond the circle of Irma’s Light.
Stealth: 11 (10+1)
Ofcourse we can lay the Saints to rest. Yvara and High flame keeper Irma, please behind me. Your holiness can direct me and Silverstar to prepare for saints for their final rites. My beloved need not get her hands dirty with with preparations.
when you say restless, you mean they move among the living? *places hand on sword, raising 1 eye brow to look at Irma*
We will be fine either way but your answer dictates how we move forward.
Roman Silverstar
Startled by the the sudden appearance of the shadowy figure, Roman steps in front of the High Flamekeeper and he gently pushes her back toward the wall, giving Lando plenty of swinging room.
"It appears we are not alone. Speak stanger before my friend stirkes you down. You trespass on scared grounds."
(Passive Perception is 11)
The figure stays beyond the circle of light, but a woman’s voice comes from beneath the dark hood, “Apologies, but my curiosity got the best of me. I’ve never known the Flamekeeper to bring guests down to the crypts.”
The words are stilted, partly with nerves and partly with wariness.
Deception: 2
Roman Silverstar
"Are you a Flamekeeper? Your Holiness do you know this person?" Peering into the shadows trying to get a look at the figure. "Step into the light and reveal yourself, i do not wish to speak to shadows."
Flamekeeper Irma chuckles. "The wisdom of the old is only as valuable as those young and strong who take it up... so we all pass the torch. But the Flame has a purpose for bringing us together, as it has a purpose that we were born to see these dark days. As the Flame illuminates the world through the holiness of its followers, there are many dark shadows to dispell." She smiles warmly at Roman and Lando, and even at Yvara, although the latter hangs back a little reluctantly. "You may understand that I am reluctant to unseal the doors, but something within tells me that this may be the time."
As Roman steps in front of her to address someone in the shadows, and the someone replies, Irma laughs lightly. "Oh, what a fright you gave me! But now I recognize your voice. My friends, this is Hannah, an afflicted soul who came to me for shelter. And, dear Hannah, you are correct, these crypts are sealed for good reason, for I do not wish any harm to come to my acolytes or my guests. But today I have felt led to make an exception. This is Lando and Yvara of House Spire, and Roman Silverstar of the Order of the Scribes. They come from Elyria, and I believe they may be able to speak to the torments of our saints in a way I have been unable to."
Holding out her holy symbol still shining with Light, Irma gestures to the woman in the dark hood skulking in the shadows. "Don't be shy, my dear, come into the light and introduce yourself to our friends."
Hannah descends the rest of the stairs, but does not remove her hood. She makes an awkward curtsy to the noble and his companions.
”I apologize for my behavior, my lord and lady. It is an honor to meet you.”
Her gaze turns to the Flamekeeper. “If you are bringing these good folks into the crypt, I will affirm my offer of protection, Mother. Although perhaps that is too boastful in the presence of a capable knight such as my lord.”
Hannah verbally blushes and bows her hooded face even further as she seems to recognize her social blunder.
Moksad
" I see no reason why we should not. I am curious to see what they think about the changes all around us."
Roman Silverstar
Relaxing at the High Flamekeeper's recognition of Hannah, watching the Hannah step out of the shadows Roman hears for a moment the sound of a pair of great wings. Looking around for a moment he gives his head shake.
Roman steps forward extending his hand "Greetings Lady Hannah, may the Flame light your way." As he extends his hand he tries to get a peek within the hood. " If the High Flamekeeper allows it i don't see why you don't join us. M'lord Lando is skilled warrior but I am afraid i am not skilled myself, I am sure he would like to have someone watching his back." Looking to Lando "what say you M'lord?"
Lando still with hand on sword hilt. “Unveil thyself. Ill travel with no one who hides their face. As a sign of trust, I show you mine and you show me yours.
also, Flame Keeper Irma said you were a girl, afflicted and taken in. Yet you call her mother. Surely there is an explanation to be had?
We need some knowledge from you, or we shall move forward without. How can I trust your capabilities if I cannot trust you.” *Leaning forward slightly looking over his glasses toward Hannah*
"let's head inside Elena!"
Elena Firavanti
Elena leads Moksad to the Cathedral of Saint Rosiland. A grand building compared to the rest of the city, but modest compared to the Cathedral of Saint Fiona in Liberio. She follows the worshippers inside and gives a perfunctory amount of alms for both her and Moksad. She finds them a spot in the outer circles and whispers the basic rituals in hushed whispers. As she speaks, she realises that perhaps Moksad could benefit from someone who actually held faith.
After another moment of hesitation and another glance towards Irma, Hannah reaches up and pulls her hood back. She has pale skin with strange patches of what appear to be bruises in various stages of fading. She has no hair on her head, nor eyebrows. It's hard to judge given her strange appearance, but you would call her features rather plain. She looks at Lando with gray eyes.
"I must apologize again, my lord," she says in a voice barely above a whisper. "''Mother' is a term of endearment given to the Flamekeeper by those of us who know best her qualities of mercy and kindness, but you judge truly that it is a presumption on my part to address such a holy person with such familiarity. My true mother would be red-faced with shame at my behavior here, were she still alive to witness it."
Hannah's eyes find a spot on the floor and stay there, and her hands seem to twitch and flex, as if she is battling with them to keep them from snatching her hood back over her face.