That Which Bleeds

Log Info

• Title: That Which Bleeds
• Emitter: Aimarra
• Characters: Aimarra, Paenitia
• Place: A10: Temple of Althea
• Time: Saturday, August 14, 2021, 8:58 PM
• Summary: Paenitia visits Aimarra in the Temple of Althea to see how she is recuperating. The ranger is demoralized, confused at what happened and discouraged from being a prisoner. The Red Knight shares the warnings she's received from Silverguard Seldan, about Eclavdran, his consort, his cult, his plans and his desire for vengence on those who have opposed him. She wants nothing to do with it, and the Dark Lucht agrees, it will be a rough slog. Aimarra says she's willing to help with routing the cultists, and Paenitia agrees that should be done as well. Conversation moves to the injury on her armm, and the strange benefits Aimarra can derive from it, although it costs blood. Paenitia makes a crude joke which still breaks the tension, and she bids the Ranger recover, and that she will send visitors.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A10: Temple of Althea *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The term 'marble temple' only holds up insofar as the temple's outer edifice is concerned. Twin statues of Althea, each of them bearing gently glowing blue staves, provide welcome either side of the entrance, a door which has never been closed in recent memory. A place of community and warmth, a sense of warmth and welcome quickly overtakes most visitors upon entry.

Serrielite and Angorite devotees guard the outside entrances, while blue star-robed Hearthguard wander just inside, performing and guiding various charitable tasks. One can even see a smaller, more discrete entrance if one looks, from whence comes and go the Mourners of Vardama, carrying their somber burdens.

Designed to be open and welcoming, the place is a bustle of family and community-centered activity. A great, central oven serves the double duties of fireplace and food preparation on a grand scale that makes the temple a favorite for gatherings. Althean worshippers and Hearthguards alike tirelessly bake and cook for the less fortunate, while younger Hearthguards sit on comfortably cushioned divans with worshippers and petitioners, dispensing advice and Althea's kind words. Wreaths of herbs hang from the ceilings, giving a pleasant scent, while a pool fed by a small artificial waterfall provides fresh water for bathing wounds or blessing of children and worshippers. A procession of doors and halls lead off to various rooms. While many lead to places such as rooms, offices, and libraries for the Hearthguard, there is also a well-known hospice, as well as the transient bunks, and even counseling rooms for when a family member nears their end. This last area is overseen by Hearthguard and Mourner alike, in respectful accordance with local customs.

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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Paenitia     3'0"     34 Lb      Halfling          Female    A Lucht knight, dark skinned in bold feathery finery.
Aimarra      5'1"     128 Lb     Half-Elf          Female    Brown hair and eyes, breastplate, leathers, pointed ears.           
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Normally, those rescued from such a fate might have been taken first to the Soldier's Defense, where the medical facilities are the finest that Alexandria has to offer. This time, though, given the nature of the incident, a bit more protection was thought prudent, and so those rescued have been taken directly to Althea's Temple. Aimarra was among them, and although her wounds have been mended thanks to Seyardu, she still has needed a few days to sort herself out in the wake of the horrors that were visited on her. She sits up now on the cot that has been her resting place since the incident, covers over her legs and a shift covering the rest of her. The bandage normally on her left forearm is noticeable for its absence, and the massive bite that extends from wrist to elbow is visible on both sides of the arm. She looks thinner than she had been, more cut, but her muscles are still strong and visible as she scrubs at her face and looks around her.

A red hat enters at waist height to a human, "Hola! You are well enough for the visiting?" A friendly and familiar voice calls. This is followed by the hat moving across the room to a chair, the chair being dragged closer to the bed, and then a woman, a halfling, in armour hopping up on it. All to the clank of her plate.

She climbs into the normal sized seat with some effort, breastplate does not bend, then seems to occupy it fully despite her size. Her peacock-feather cloak takes up space, and her gear bulks her out. She has 'stripped down' to a buckler and shield, in case some threat should arise in the holy halls. Perhaps going unarmed is against her vows.

Paenitia leans forward, her mask grinning, her voice concerned yet cheerful. "I see you are not beaten down. This is good. I am glad we get you back my friend. I have things to warn, and tell, but must ask first."

"How you feel, is you wish to talk at all?"

Aimarra looks up, a cascade of loose brown hair that looks as if it was recently freed from braids spilling around her shoulders and tumbling to the bed. Normally, the mass is tightly tucked up into braids around her head, so this is an unusual sight indeed. "Yeah. I'm all right." A shudder ripples through her. "What the hell happened? The house exploded, and next thing I know, I'm tied up in a box."

Paenitia leans, reaching out to pat Aimarra's arm, halting her guantlet as she realizes she's about to touch the strange bite wound, "So sorry, that might not be the comforting gesture."

She rocks back, armour creaking. In some ways she seems like a mini-golem, were it not for her eyes behind the mask, "It was not the good death of the spider. That was an ambush of I kind I not see before. My ears, my head, ring, the spider, she is so heavy. I am in the shock."

The Red Knight exhales slowly, "I fail you my friend. I see you borne out, taken by two humans, in the robes we see at the first warehouse. They run off."

"It is hours before we able to make pursuit. It is days before we get the tip to find you in another warehouse. It... was not what we expect when we enter." She shakes her head, "We think will be more boxes, of statue people. Instead, there is a man, a portal, a beach, a laugh and a vanishing."

Instinctively, Aimarra pulls back the hand, but shrugs, letting it fall to rest above the covers. "No, I understand if it creeps you out." She dismisses it then, and listens to the rest, eyes widening. "When I woke, I was with a bunch of others in a box, bound hand and foot. I - couldn't tell you how long it was. Just - I heard you coming. An explosion. Fighting, from above. And - they started pulling the people with me out of the box, one by one. Through the portal, and I could see a beach beyond it. I don't know what happened to them. All I saw was some kind of a tower."

"What'd the man look like?"

"Ah, that explain it then. Well, he seem the human, longish dark hair, thin and fit, the dark eyes." The Dark Lucht waves her hand about in a random motion, "Not the kind the gypsy woman promise you with the crystal ball, not so remarkable. We see the same box when you come in, the same portal. He push it through and vanish."

"I see the beach, I did not spy the tower." She taps at the 'chin' of her mask, "We make the explosion, yes. We enter fast, but not so fast it seems. It seem to me we were expected, but from what you say, perhaps not."

She nods briefly towards Aimarra's arm, "the scars do not frighten me, they tell the tales of the person. I was not sure if the sensitivity there is great, it look terrible."

Usually self-assured and confident, Aimarra looks troubled now, and bites her lip, eyes going to her lap. "It doesn't hurt, but ... I guess maybe it's as good as it's going to get." Talking about it definitely seems to make her uncomfortable, and certainly the topic at hand does. When she looks up, there's naked fear in her eyes, although why isn't clear. "I saw who you meant. Don't know him, didn't even get a name. I assume he's another Taara cultist."

The Red Knight blinks, shaking her head, the mahogany of her eyelids standing out against the white of her mask. Her eyes open, intense and fixed on Aimarra's, "No, it get worse out here my friend. I will spare you till you have the strength, but if you are strong enough now, I should tell."

She leans forward, "I give you the warning to steel yourself."

"Look, Sister Paenitia. If you know what's up with these guys, spit it out. Won't do me any good to not know. For all I know they might try to grab me again, and if they do, I'd better know." Aimarra's brown eyes blaze fierce from beneath the loose hair. -There's- the Aimarra Paenitia has worked with, for the first time tonight. "Won't do me no good to stay ignorant. Who the hell are these people?"

"The 'man' who kidnap you the cultists name as 'Erik', but he is not." Paenitia sounds a lot happier, now that the real Aimarra resurfaces. Her eyes burn, she's ready to share, "He a demon, name Eclavdran. He is the powerful one."

She keeps her gazed fixed, "He may well come for you. He hunt bigger foes, the Silverguard Seldan, the man name Merek, others with big names in this city. This Eclavdran, is a Duke of the Iron Hells. He seek to make himself a body and a power base, to take over Ea and rule it as his territory."

She holds a cautionary hand up, "Do not go to face him alone. It is the way of death. Seek allies and strength. The Cultists, they worship his pregnant demon wife, I think. That is the little statue they bear."

"Her voice, might have been the one that make me try kill Ramirez."

Aimarra listens, all color draining from her features. "A Duke of the Iron Hells?" she repeats incredulously, unconsciously backing up an inch or two on the cot. "I have no idea who any of those people are. What would he want with me?" she asks in a very small voice. "That ... son of a jackdaw." Suddenly, the naked fear in her eyes mingles with anger. "I'm nobody here. I can't stop something like that. I've got no intention of going after something like that alone, Paenitia, I'm not a fool and I don't have a death wish. What in the name of all the Hells are we going to do against something like that?"

Paenitia bobs her head slowly to each of the things Aimarra says, the threat assessment is quite accurate. Her impassive, unchanging, metal mask of that Man with the Wide Grin, makes everything a little disconcerting. Is the small Lucht crazy, or crazy like a fox?

She offers advice from her perspective and experience, "Everything look large at the start out. The Evil Man so huge, so powerful, with his cities and castles and armies. It is too much for one person to take on. It is too much for a small group. It cannot be met directly."

"Yet you do not falter. You find the first stone with a crack, and you chip away. The first loose nut, and unscrew free. The bent nail, pull out. It seem little, but you do not stand alone. The small dismantlings build up."

Her voice grows more impassioned, "You do not stop, because your cause is just. They are full of greed and arrogance. You, are one with the people who want this bloated leech gone. You chip away, and chip away, and the movement grow, until they are eaten to death by ten thousand little ants, held down by the few strongest to directly challenge them, who have grown up out of the movement."

"The silverguard, he meeting today to find the forces. I seek allies who know what they will face. I help overthrow the Iron Baron of Isobar. A Duke that wish to lay his weight on the countryside is the next thing I should prick to pop. We gather strength, intelligence, and plan, and look for the cracks to hammer on."

At first, Aimarra hesitates, sucking in a deep breath and holding it. Slowly, so slowly, she turns over her forearm, to examine the raised bite marks in the light. Eyes widen, nostrils flare, and fear wars in her eyes with something - primal. "If you want to win," she whispers near-soundlessly, "be the predator, not the prey. The prey will flee. A predator who hunts by opportunity is no less a predator than the king of the sands."

She bares her teeth then, a gesture remarkably reminiscent of a vicious beast. "Very well. I do not know how to be the prey, and I do not wish to run forever. I shall then be the hunter."

"Yes, it much better to come at them than show the tail and get a lance in it." Paenitia laughs. She seems to have a lot of dog-related metaphors. "Oh! The Demon consort, her name is Mariela."

"I am not sure why people would ask a demoness for the babies, instead of the All Mother. I think the result be a good way to get one full of colic." The Red Knight shakes her head, "I am all for the big, boisterous family, but think some must have their heads on wrong. One of the cultists that was holding you prisoner, seem to be the bored noble."

Her voice gets an edge, "The guards in this city proving to be either the idiots or corrupt too. They wil not hear the advice we find, even though it seem the Adventurers are the only ones who solve the problem in this city bigger than finding a sticky bun."

A short snort of laughter from Aimarra. "Try bribing them. They're corrupt as anything, I saw one that paid a bunch of kobolds to go be brigands on the bridges." She folds her arms across herself and examines the new skin on her wrists, where the rope burns had been just a few short days ago. "The guards in this city are worthless, and there's a few adventurers who ain't worth much either." A quick shake of the head, and a snort. "Where'd you find all this out?"

"The guards I hear from their very mouthes, but this information I get from the Silverguard." Paenitia says, laying her hand on Aimarra's disfigured arm, "do not let it trouble you."

The metal gauntlet is removed. "You, were the 'present' for the Silverguard. He say there a second, that the Holy Warrior must search for. This Demon, he is the big ego, think he the source of all gravity, but still makes the things to taunt his rivals with."

"This is why I think it was planned, we find you, although maybe you were to be spirit away too, as stone statue, and we quick enough. Sir Seldan, he has meet this Eclavdran before."

GAME: Aimarra rolls intelligence: (11)+2: 13
GAME: Aimarra rolls knowledge/local: (9)+5: 14

The spark has by now returned to Aimarra's eyes, and she frowns at this. "Don't know the name. So, you are telling me that I spent days tied up in a box starving, because of a tiff between an archdemon and someone from the Orders? Thanks, I'll stay as far from him as possible. It sounds like a trouble magnet that I don't need a repeat of, thanks." She flinches at the touch on the disfigured arm, although the reaction is more startlement than true pain. "In fact, look. I can go hunting cultists. I know how to do that. Leave me out of dealing with a demon."

"Yes, we are much the pawns on the chessboard, even if I am the knight. The demon's ire is great. To stay away is the wise choice." The red knight laughs wildly, her voice matching her mask's grin, "I am not the wise one, I am the mad dog. I will help you with the cultists, that is the good plan, weaken his base, strike the route."

Her eyes linger on Aimarra's arm, "Plus, I think there already something pursuing you."

The last statement makes Aimarra stiffen and freeze cold beneath Paenitia's hand, a rush of fear flooding the woman's face. She looks away and down, her shoulders suddenly knots, but the look, and the rush, is answer enough. "I ... have been the hunter, and the hunted," she whispers. "I don't know what it wants, but ... I'm bound to it, somehow. I - guess I can call on its speed, to help me? I give my strength, and get in return? I've never been much of a one for this magic stuff."

Paenitia squeezes her hand, hopefully a comforting gesture. "I have less knowledge of Magic. It seems it not entirely one way, but remember, it will come back to make you pay for all it have given you."

A shudder ripples through Aimarra. "I do pay for it," she explains in a small, scared voice. "It weakens me, a little, and the scar bleeds when I do it. I ... don't do it unless I have to."

"Well, we are women, bleeding is not unknown." Paenitia says cheerfully, patting at Aimarra's arm, "keep it less than once the month, you might not even notice."

She laughs, "I am sorry you have this curse, but we all have the little things to bear. You are strong, you will endure. If you need assistance, or it come, know I am the ally for you."

Aimarra blinks in shock at the crass joke, but the terror and worry melt away, along with a little of her tension, to be replaced by confusion, and perhaps a tinge of disgust. "Um, if you bleed from your arm during your womanly cycles, you really ought to see the Hearthguards about that. That doesn't sound right." Is that a hint of a smile? Maybe just a hint, still wreathed in confusion. "Thanks. I think."

"I shall go terrorize them, that sound amusing." Paenitia says, her voice happy and light, "I am glad you back, and that it not a worse fate. Rest, there are things to pursue further and your help will be needed, but not the right now."

She leans a little, staring into Aimarra's eyes, "You will be fine?"

That gaze, in the grinning mask, is most disconcerting, and it shows in Aimarra's lean back as Paenitia stares straight into her eyes. "Yes, I'll be fine. Thanks ... um, thanks for visiting." She swallows.

"Okay!" Paenitia says, having taken a measure of Aimarra's soul. Perhaps. She hops off the chair and lands with a heavy clank of her armour, "I go to join the others, I tell them you are well, and the visitors will be appreciated."

She marches to the door, tapping at her hat as she mimes ducking through the doorway, with a glance up at the lintel, "They make those so low."

Then she's gone, the sound of her armour fading in the distance.