Only Mostly Dead

Log Info

• Title: Only Mostly Dead
• Emitter: Jinks
• Characters: Ashes, Jinks, Merek, Seyardu
• Place: Vardaman Temple
• Time: February 2nd, 2022
• Summary: Ashes and Jinks are both about their duties at the Vardaman Temple. Merek and Seyardu arrive on their own business. The four gather and discuss a recent trip to the Grey Halls made by gnome, sith-makar, and a third. Card games and fate are also discussed.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* A15: Vardaman Temple *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

          The Vardamite temple is a solemn affair. Composed of carved blocks of basalt, it looks as if the whole thing were set into a scooped-out chunk of the mountain. Braziers and torches, despite the presence of more modern conveniences, are the main source of light. The basalt columns and blocks are engraved with prayers for the dead from hundreds of cultures and dozens of races. Some are works of master carvers, still others are little more than the work of desperate or sorrowful petitioners, quick prayers lovingly scratched into an empty space.

          An outdoor altar is littered with offerings, as are the steps and even ground surrounding the front of the temple. These offerings are frequently collected or cleaned away by serious-faced Mourners, or Mourner-acolytes, while Serriel's Lancers guard the front doors. As ever, the sound of monks in perpetual chant can be heard as a low background noise as they go about their somber business.


-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  At a glance around A15: Vardaman Temple  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Ashes     Hobgoblin   Female    A somber arvec in grey clothes with a skull face                           
Jinks     Gnome       Male      A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry.
Merek     Human       Male      A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes.                                
Seyardu   Sith-Makar  Female    A friendly silver sith-makar with a perpetual squint.                     
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Snow gathers in drifts to the side of the walkways and stairs leading up to the Harpist's temple. Grey waters turn from slush to ice when they sit undisturbed long enough. The great braziers crackle and pop in defiance of the cold and devotees have left their offerings scattered around the Serrielite guards. Steam mingles with smoke near the mouth of the great cavern entrance to the temple playing at a sort of ethereal facade.

From the opposite side of the temple, Jinks emerges from the Catacombs. The gnome has become something of a familiar sight in recent weeks; turning up to put his talents to work singing a hymn in praise of the Grey Lady. He only knows a scant few of Her songs and so often finds himself seeking a loan of a hymnal or spending time with the more generally-devoted. Still, his heart seems to be well-enough in it.

Today he looks fit for a brazier himself, his merigold suit long, straight, and slimming with seams stitched in glittering gold. The coat is lined in a fine, bright-orange fur of some exotic feline and the collar sits high enough to frame his cheekbones. As always, he wears a shameful abundance of gems and jewelry.

A shadowy figure who is closer in appearance to the grey waters and slush than an abundance of gems emerges from the catacombs and approaches the altar. A hobgoblin who is a study in greys, wearing a dark, silvery armour and a storm cloak carries a large candle.

She notices the glittering gnome, but doesn't alter her path. An eerie warble comes from her, high pitched and bird-like. "WhooOooOooOooooo?"

"That's Jinks." She answers herself in monotone. Her owlette, in actuality, who is tucked up beside one of her ears. Her head turns for a stare, after which she says, "He's died almost as often as Merek."

The Mourner seems intent on her task and her spiritual observations, and makes no effort to engage the man or draw his attention.

Seyardu was not a cleric often found at the temple of Vardama, with how out of the way it was, and the nature of the place made it even less likely than those found in the temple district. But there were still reasons to be there, and with all the work she was doing at the soldier's defence, she had time to run errands on her way home for them. Trudging slowly through the snow was a rather short, bright silver sith-makar in Althean robes. She had a scarf wrapped tightly around her neck, and the cleric makes her way up the steps to the building proper. She looked a bit different from other times, just a bit taller, with larger horns than before.

She dips her head and offers a hand to the mourner, and to Jinks afterwards.

Jinks grins and alters his course subtly, swaying and rubber-legged in the way he gets when he's had a few but isn't far enough along to start slurring his speech. It affects a sort of devil-may-care aura that's only reinforced by the sly smile as he steps closer and closer to the familiar Mourner.

The gnome's medium-length hair is free and hanging, tucked behind his ears today, and his right brow sports three small hoop piercings.

"Coyote laugh with you this Tariday, Ashlee," he grins as he tilts his head. "Has the menagerie grown any further since Cor'lana's gift?"

A half-turn and nod is offered to the silver sith-makar, though he does pause to eye the hand curiously before taking it. His quirked eyebrow glitters as he offers another "Coyote laughs" for Seyardu.

"No. I'm still thinking about a snake." Ashlee answers, watching Jinks and brushing at her hair which hoods the owlette. There are other factors at play. "They need time to adjust."

The approaching silver-scale is given a raised hand in return, and the Arvek's gaze lingers on the horns as her mind wanders. A variety of things might have caused unexpected growth; it's only been a few weeks. Something she shouldn't ask about, she decides. Instead the Mourner turns and sets her large candle on the altar and asks a question.

"How was your visit to the Grey Halls?" It's not a normal question, although among Mourners it might be asked more frequently. The usual cadence of her monotone delivery is hastened, suggesting interest, certainly professional and possibly personal, "Tell me about it?"

"A gift from Ravenstongue? She is a friend, and a good person, so I am not surprised. She has brought gifts to the soldier's defence on a few occasions, now. And peace on your nests, Ashlee and Jinks." The cleric greets, brushing some of the accumulated snow off of her shoulders.

Seyardu pauses at the question, before she stands up a bit straighter, and nods. "Ah, yes! I never got a chance to thank you for all the work you put into preparing for the trip, along with the others. I should find a way to properly repay you another time, but, to answer your question, the trip went as well as could be hoped. The goal was accomplished, and none were changed by the visit overly much."

Jinks looks a bit older, too, on closer inspection; deeper, longer laughlines and fuller goatee. Thankfully, gnomes are a relatively long-lived race and a decade-and-change isn't much in the scheme of things. "We did make it there and back-- and with relative ease-- so your contributions were invaluable, Mourner."

The gnome reaches up from playing with his rings, running his right hand back through his hair and letting his eyes droop shut for a moment. "We arrived in a border realm outside of the Halls with Petitioners being escorted by their psychopomp." He's clearly done his research since returning. "We did some traveling before asking to be taken to the Halls.

"Our... antechamber was hosted by an aspect of the Harpist and we bartered for what we sought." He grins sheepishly (an odd expression for the dandy) and considers the ground briefly before looking back up. "Which is why this place has seen so much of me without installing a proper taproom... my chip was the Hymn; ten-years of daily devotion in song." "WhooOooOoOooooo?" The little owlette warbles again, it's call unsettling in the cold daylight, and certainly more ominous should it be heard in the catacombs.

"This is Seyardu," Ashlee tells the small screech owl that shelters beneath her ear, peering out with bright eyes. "She also died."

Then the mourner nods, thinking over the questions asked, then answers, "Yes." and "Ok." She stares silently, and it seems like it might be a contest between her and her owlette to avoid blinking. They're both excellent contestants. "I'm glad they helped."

The gnome gets her attention, and she notes his changes as well, the deeper lines, the fuller beard. A nod, "Some other years as well, it seems. It happens."

Her attention returns to Seyardu, "You exchanged something too?"

Merek takes his time to walk into the Temple, wearing his dark attire like he often does. The man looks around, until he sees the people that are talking. There's a nod to everyone and to Ashlee, Jinks, and Seyardu. He walks that way and will wave, "How are you all doing?" the man asks, taking his time to relax a bit.

"They died." Ashes answers Merek.

"Jinks has the right of it, the travel was not precise, nor were we entirely certain where we needed to go to begin with." Seyardu nods to the story. Then, she sighs, and shakes her head. "No, I did not gamble or exchange anything. My cards were bad, and there seemed little reason to do so at the time, so I did not. This is, ah-"

She pauses to wave to Merek, and offer a smile. "Peace on your nest Merek, it has been some time. Though, no, I did not die. It is rather the fact that we did not die that there were issues. The shadow of the death singing dragon's wings were not meant for those still living to visit."

"Luckily, I grow yet more magnificent adding on a few more years." Jinks grins and turns his hips, raising his arms out to either side in brief presentation. "Like-- to borrow an overused simile-- a fine wine."

A wink is his wave-hello to Merek as he lowers his arms. "Well enough."

The minstrel looks between Seyardu and Ashes, adding, "Aryia wanted her sister back and I had a scale to balance. I hadn't expected to lose my wager on a winning hand... but a few songs and a chance to see you and Verna on occasion isn't a terrible price. In fact, my last encounter with Verna gave me an opportunity to commission a few arcane works..."

There's a pause when Jinks realizes he's gone off-topic. Onyx-black eyes dart as he backtracks. "She made us remember ourselves as children and asked for a game. So we played cards," he explains.

The Ashen Arvec nods, taking a moment to light the votive candle on the basalt altar. There's a quiet murmur under her breath as she focuses on the flame before returning her gaze to the others. She nods. It sounds rather like she expected it might, though everyone's experience is different.

"I didn't play games as a child." Ashlee adds to the conversation. She reaches for her satchel, then lets her hand simply brush it. "My cards don't play nice. The struggle is different for everyone."

She stares silently for a while, then remembers to add, "It's good you made it back."

"Well, I apologize I was not about to assist," Merek will admit, thinking about it. He then takes the time to relax while he scratches along his cheek, "Well technically, if you went there... You didn't die, but you did... In a way, symbolically, and became a Petititioner. It is difficult to explain," the man will admit, then he nods, "I'm glad you are all okay."

"No, that is not quite right, Jinks." Seyardu attempts to correct. "I was speaking with Aryia, and, there was more to it than that. Aryia, and I as well, believe it was not a memory of being young in particular, but rather, the first time one was at risk of death."

"I did not play golem ever before. So, being put on the spot to learn immediately to play for the soul of a friend was, more than a bit concerning. I am glad it worked out as well as it did."

"And, I am glad we were able to return, as well. Do not worry about it Merek, it was rather sudden."

Jinks makes a thoughtful noise at Seyardu's observation, tucking his chin to think for a moment before shrugging. His wide smile returns as he considers Ashlee once more. "All I did as a child was play. All I do most days is play," he admits and a little laugh. "... but a Golem deck rarely plays nice so you play the people across from you.

"But thank you both. As pleasant as it seemed to be a guest in the Harpist's house I'll take the opportunity to stack the deck a bit more before I'm done." The gnome's smile turns a bit lopsided. "... and I'm hoping Heroes' Welcome is nicer tha the Other Place."

There's a moment before he has to ask Ashlee "Your cards?" He's not a gambling addict; he wins far too often for it to be anything other than a pleasant hobby.

"Oracle cards." Ashlee rests her hand on her satchel. "Their sooths got dark."

She doesn't go into more detail. She hasn't read a fortune in a while. As a wanted criminal there was no real need, and there hasn't been much need since she was deputized.

She nods, deploying the secret weapon, and this prompts her little screech owl to whoot, "WhooOooooooo?"

Well, she never introduced Merek to her owlette, "That's Merek. He's died almost every day of the week."

This leads her to another thought, and a random comment, "I'll make you rebirthday cupcakes."

"Yes, you do do a lot of play. Perhaps being forced to offer prayer to the gods is a good is a good thing in some form." Seyardu chuckles. "I will hope that none here go back before their natural times."

"You are amassing quite the amount of companions Ashlee, it must be tricky to balance all of their diets."

The cleric pauses, and squints at Merek. "Is that something people do? I know very little about how softskins celebrate most holidays. But an excuse for more baked goods is not a bad thing. I did not know you knew how to bake, Ashlee. I do a lot of it at the temple of Althea, perhaps we could share recipes some time?"

Jinks grins and rocks on his heels. "A sweet tooth is the one vice I never properly developed," admits the gnome, "but I have been known to indulge. Especially if it pairs well with spirits."

He grins and winks at Seyardu and counters, "I live every day for the laughter of Coyote. It may not look like your worhip of Telmentar or Lady Serene's of Goddess Dreaming but it's very important to me..."

There's a moment taken to produce a pocket square and polish his coyote's-head brooch. He even has a platinum band of a coyote chasing its tail.

"I'd test your deck, Mourner." Jinks finally offers, crossing his arms and tilting his head to one side. "If you would draw for me. The Tsura witch offered me a reading once but refused to go beyond the first card... but a lot has changed since then," he grins impishly.

"I think it's an Ashlee thing," Merek will note to Seyardu, while he thinks about it. "Yes, I know both of them, they have... Knowledge of the many times that I get to meet the Petitioner." He smiles, while he seems to relax a bit, he seems tired.

"Not here." Ashlee answers Jinks' request. It might be too much tempting fate to ask for a fortune in the Temple to the Grey Lady after recently being released from her halls. Or the Mourner may not want to put her cards down where it's wet.

"Mahuikaa showed me how to make the cupcakes." She explains, then brushes at her hair and her owlette, "They all eat similar things. Vermin aren't picky." They might even eat her, given the right circumstances. Although pecking out the eyes is more of a corvid than a strigiforme thing, so she doesn't have to look forward to that.

The flame on her candle flickers, and she turns to murmur a few more prayers at it. She turns away. "I can write it down."

The gnome does a halfway-decent job of masking his disappointment but nods. "Another time, then. If you would." He starts to back away, cross his arms at the wrists and cupping his hands with palms up to immitate the 'scales' prayer gesture. He has been learning a few things. "I'll bring the spirits, Mourner Ashlee. Fate's boon," he wishes with a bit more flippancy than intended.

"Seyardu. Merek. Coyote laughs, peaceful nests, and a pleasant evening." Jinks uncrosses his arms and lifts his hands up in a dual-wave, "I need a drink..."

And then the bard is turning and dashing down the stairs two at a time.

"You wish to test card readings? Well, that would be interesting. This one has not been one to believe in fate, but there is some merit to them, perhaps." Seyardu chuffs. "If you say as such, it seems like there is no end to the ways people venerate them. Peace on your nest Jinks, and safe travels." She half shrugs to Jinks.

"Well, a lizard does not eat as a mouse does, and an owl different still. Though, you speak of writing down recipes, or writing down dates of death?"

"They all like dried meat." Ashlee explains. Anyone who has seen her at mealtime would have noticed they're very involved with her plate. They pick what they want without her paying much attention, a strategy which has been successful so far.

She shakes her head, "The recipe. The dates of death are already recorded."

Jinks gets a wave of sorts as he departs. He'll find her, or she'll find him.

"Ah, the recipes! It is good that you would wish to see them. Not many I know do much in the way of baking, but I am happy to share what I know." Seyardu smiles to the Oruch. "If that is the case, you need not worry yourself writing it down. I can bind a book and transcribe the recipes known, and leave space for more. Pies, pastries, breads and cakes, this one has helped to make a variety of things at the temple. Variety is good for the spirit and body, and those needing meals from the temple of Althea often need both tended to."

She does stop to see if she can see the mouse she remembered, curious about a rodent with a taste for dried meat.

Merek waves a little to Jinks, then he takes a look to Ashlee and to Seyardu, "I am interested with listening, if that's alright." The man takes the time to relax and watch, while he smiles.

Ashlee's menagerie, other than her owl, see to be in hiding. It is cold and wet, and she's got her cavalry armour on for some reason. There's space in side that. "Okay. I only know a couple."

Likely variations on a theme.

"I can do that after this." There does seem to be some ceremony and point to the Mourner's actions with the candle, but she's not inflexibily dedicated to her task. Death interrupts so many things, ceremonies for the goddess of death can stand a few. "It won't be much longer."

"Well, I am still happy to share what I know. You're welcome as well Merek, I know you do a fair bit of cooking too." The cleric smiles to both of them. "I understand, dealing with the rituals at the temple is always important. But, I can stay around until you were done. I was hoping to speak with some of the mourners on behalf of the soldier's defence. There are a few balms used by the them that are good for staving off infections, and while there is usually a supply when possible, a recent plague in one of the lower districts has strained the supplies. So I was hoping to speak with them about providing more in the short term."

"Peace on your nest, Ashlee, and Merek." She offers in parting with a slight bow, before she scales the steps to the temple, pausing at the top to rub the side of her neck before continuing inside.