The Temple (private thread for Ismael's Legacy)

[Stik]

The garrison town follows the imperial model, and the temple is situated near the north wall, requiring only a brief walk uptown to get there. The temple is large, with walls of stone separate from the town wall, and a large courtyard out front. The doors into the temple are twice the height of a man and made of bronze, carved with a design of spears and shields. The doorway is surmounted by a marble statue of Aerdus, and flanked by granite statues of Emdalus and Mechanus.

Bastian taps on the doors with large stick hanging from the doorframe. Just as Bastian it trying to decide whether to knock again, the left-hand door is opened by an elderly priest wearing a leather apron over his tunic. The man is not of large stature, but his arms are quite well-muscled for a man his age, and his rough hands, like his apron, are dusty. He takes one look at Bastian and says, warmly: "Welcome, Brother. Come in, come in.

"I am Thesidus. I had heard a pair of priests came into town early this morning. I thought it would be just a matter of time before you arrived here. Are you thirsty? Hungry?" the man speaks kindly as he walks, leaving Bastian no choice but to follow him. Instead of heading deeper into the temple, though, he takes a side corridor into a courtyard with large loading doors on either side. The area is set up as a mason's yard. Thesidus lifts a towel off a small table, revealing a pitcher, a mug and a plate of bread and cheese beneath. He dumps the contents of the mug onto the ground and refills it, then hands it to Bastian.

[Ismaels-Legacy]

Bastian drinks deeply before speaking. "Thank you, Brother. Travel tends to make a man appreciate drink when it's available. Water or otherwise." For the first time Bastian lets his bemused facade drop and a look of tension and worry crosses his face. "I have much that I need to discuss and a need to convey a message to my home cloister. The message can wait since I don't expect messengers to leave until daybreak on the morrow, though I would greatly appreciate council if you have the time and inclination to listen." Bastian knows that one of the primary duties of a priest of any religion is to offer counseling to those who seek it, though he also knows from experience that it is greatly appreciated if you make it a request rather than a demand of urgent need.

[Stik]

The drink is momentarily shocking in its flavor - them Bastian's body remembers having tasted it before - malumrufa, a concoction consumed by the legions on the trail, consisting of water, salts, honey and a bit of wine. The drink has a unique flavor – generally unpleasant, but when one is terribly thirsty, from hard work or marching in full kit in the hot sun, it is somehow more thirst-quenching than plain water. The saying in the legions is that you should drink malumrufa until you notice it's stopped tasting good, at which point you’ve had enough.

Since most civilians wouldn’t tolerate the stuff, it would appear that the priest is a former legionnaire.

Seeing Bastian’s expression change as he tastes the beverage, the old priest says: “Apologies, Brother. It's a hot day, and stone carving is thirsty work. One must replenish.” He returns to his bench, where a head-sized block of stone awaits. It has been roughly shaped into a ball, and Thesidus is working to refine the shape. Off to one side of the bench there is a small mound of finished stone spheres, each one head-sized.

“I can arrange for a message to be carried for you in the next scheduled pouch, to the capital or wherever else they go, but it may take some time to arrive, and likely longer for a response. We’re sort of a backwater here, now that the north has quieted.

“I am but a humble artillerist. You want advice on taking down a wall, I’m your man. But I suppose I could hear you out on other matters. Or would you like to speak to the Defender? I could fetch him for you.”

[Ismaels-Legacy]

"I'm not exactly looking for a response from my superiors. I just need to inform them of my progress." Bastian stares into his cup for a moment and his brow creases with mental strain as he tries to recall his theology lessons only to be stymied in his attempt. "I hate to confess my ignorance, but who exactly is the Defender?"

[Stik]

"Sorry, inside joke. The Defender is Defender Vecchio. My little brother's son.
"This temple is chiefly dedicated to Emdalus, which grants a Defender precedence, even though I have considerable seniority. That my own nephew outranks me has been a running joke in the family since he mustered out of the Ninth and moved his family here. I like to tease him about his inexperience, but he is surprisingly adept at giving good advice."

[Ismaels-Legacy]

Chuckling, Bastian continues, "Not to step on anyone's toes, but if he's the senior clergy here, perhaps he should hear of this. It is happening in his own back yard, so to speak. That said, I would like you to hear it at the same time so your experience and wisdom can weigh in on the matter as well." Bastian thinks to himself momentarily and says, "Perhaps I should write my missive, first, though. That would reduce some of my workload and allow me to gather my thoughts prior to explaining things to you."

[Stik]

"As you like. You may work out here, or inside if the noise here is a problem. I expect my nephew will show up at some point during the day, when he has finished with his day job. He's a stonemason these days."

[Ismaels-Legacy]

"I don't mind the noise at all. Despite my appearance I was in the Legion, so I know how to ignore a ruckus." Bastian chuckles at a memory from his time in service and tucks it away in his memory again. Sometimes it's the small things that you keep just for yourself. "I do hate to ask, but is it possible to get some writing implements and something to write upon? I shouldn't take much more than a sheet, so something that's used will work. I'm even willing to re-scrape if necessary."

[Stik]

"That is no bother at all," the priest says, then whistles loudly through his fingers.
Moments later a boy of about ten comes out into the yard, plodding as if his feet weigh a hundred pounds each. "Yes, Uncle?"
"Go and fetch pen, ink, and charta and bring them here. And an empty cup. Quickly."
"Yes, Uncle," the boy replies, and heads back into the temple, as if he feet only weigh twenty pounds each.

"The son of my nephew. Not exactly an overachiever," Thesidus says, and goes back to his hammer and chisel. He sets to work smoothing the stone into a sphere. "They fly better when they are perfectly round," he says by way of explanation, "It is the same whether using an onager or a tormenta. The smooth stones are better."

The boy returns a short time later, but probably a longer time than was necessary, and places the requested materials on the side table, then heads back inside without a word.

[Ismaels-Legacy]

Bastian makes sure to thank the boy directly since his chore was so laborious! In an effort to make small talk, he continues with Thesidius. "Do you make them on consignment for the Legions or do you craft them as a means of religious meditation? I could certainly see this being done as a means of contemplation while trying to achieve a 'perfect sphere'! "

Bastian starts to scratch some quick introductory lines of greeting to the head priest of his temple. "I only ask because we have something similar, though it's become more competitive. Our order either brews or bakes. We compete with some of the smaller parishes around, though it always seems that a local peasant wins the competition each year." With that Bastian gives a conspiratorial wink and places an ink stained finger to the side of his nose.

[Stik]

"Paulding Depot is still nominally an legion garrison town, even though the last garrison was recalled to the capital years ago, but even then, we were tasked with distribution of materiale, not manufacture. These stones aren't going to the legions. They're staying here, or going to local holds. The money we earn on them is money we can spend at our own discretion, and it's good to have, but mostly I just do this to keep hands busy and eyes sharp. Too many soldiers retire from warfare and feel like they are surplus, then live empty lives, until they wind down and die. I keep busy instead.
"I was a chaplain in the legions, but I was also a siegecrafter and a stonecutter. So I do what I did best back then. You make them right, and they fly straight. That goes for everything. Ammunition. Siege engines. Animals. Apprentices. Children."

[Ismaels-Legacy]

Bastian stops writing to consider that statement for a moment. The more he thinks about it, the more that statement makes sense. "If you don't mind, I may use that statement in future theological discussions. It would certainly be something to share with the masses, if nothing else. Many of my home parish were in the legions, after all." Bastian finishes writing his statement of events and as an addendum writes a brief account of Thesidius's statement and quotes his final words.

"Now I suppose we wait? Is there anything I could work on in the mean time? When I'm not occupied in a task, I tend to distrust my idle hands." Bastian holds up his hands, palm out, and wiggles his ink stained fingers, laughing.

[Stik]

"Feel free to repeat what you like. It is a blessing and a curse, having nothing to do on an afternoon but hit a chisel with a hammer. It gives a man ample opportunity to think," the old priest says. "If you are bored, you could sweep up, if you like."

Bastian's time on the broom is cut very short, however, by the arrival of Defender Vecchio. The man carries himself like a soldier, his hair still cropped short, his clothing clean and crisp. He wears a heavy chain on his neck, with a carved stone castle pendant. Vecchio grips his uncle’s shoulder as he passes by and approaches Bastian. “Word travels fast here. Heard Maughus has brought in a merc troupe, a couple of priests among them. About time you showed up here.”

[Ismaels-Legacy]

"Apologies for the delay. I still have the mindset of a conscript from the legions, I suppose." Bastian pauses, hoping that the joke won't fall flat, but when he sees that it most certainly HAS, he continues. "What have you heard so far about the incidents over the past few days? They have been some of the most...unusual that I've encountered and I'm not above wondering whether there is more to them than meets the mortal eye."

{{OOC: For sake of brevity, if the man needs an account of the events from Bastian, presume that I give him full disclosure of the events without compromising the contract with Fraso.}}

[Stik]

[OOC] That'll work fine for me. I'd be interested to know, from Bastian's viewpoint, and briefly, what the "events" have been. That way I'll know if I'm explaining things right to my players.[/OOC]