Topic: Courtly Curiosity

Sheryl Resendei

Date: 2013-06-23 01:58 EST
Her arms were piled with neatly folded clean sheets and a soft-woven cotton blanket. Atop the lavender-scented linens was a buoyant pillow. Most of the other Scathachians were cleaning out the rubble and charred debris from the Temple. Sheryl, however, was left in the Sanctuary to see to their latest guest. While there was a fortifying pride that came from the work done in the Temple, getting it ready for the rebuild, Sheryl was secretly thankful for the break. She was more than curious to see the knight that she had heard would be staying with them until winter once more came around. She had listened all afternoon to Janie, who apparently had seen him and would not stop talking for two minutes about his appearance. In truth, that was not the reason why Sheryl was so eager to see this stranger. She would not have cared were he a man or a woman. What baited this scholar was the notion that he worshiped one god. This, paired with the fact that his homeland was largely unknown to her, was enough to whet Sheryl's insatiable appetite for learning.

Her flushed cheeks reflected the glimmer of the light in the hallway in this section of the Sanctuary. It had been quite busy as of late, as all of the patients who chose to were relocated from the ruined Temple of Scathach to the next door Scathachian Sanctuary. However, this wing where Sir Roland was staying was not for the infirmed or sick. This wing was the adjoining hall between the Scathachian Sisters and the citizens who came to be treated by them.

Juggling the folded linens in her arms, Sheryl's knuckles rapped on Roland's door. Knock, knock-knock, knock. She could feel the stylus in her pocket against her thigh and knew that her small pad of notepaper was just on the other side of it. Her wide blue-gray eyes wandered over the hallway for a moment as she awaited a voice, or the door to open. She hoped she was not interrupting him. After all, she had more in mind than just handing off clean linens for his first night at the Sanctuary. She had a need to quench her curiosity. And like the proverbial cat, she often wandered where she wasn't meant to. She hoped that Sir Roland would forgive her.

Roland

Date: 2013-06-23 12:20 EST
Roland was practicing the very thing Sheryl was so curious about when she knocked on the door to his chamber: he was kneeling on the cool stone floor, his head bowed and his hands clasped over his knees. His faith was unwavering but he could not deny that his years of service in the Order had been troubling, so he begged God for the wisdom to understand what was happening: the rise and fall of the Architect, and the fact that ancient demons such as he even existed, and could unravel creation; his countrymen and their growing chorus for change, be it for a king, for security or for transparency; and Ad Lucem and their ever deepening treachery.

All of this tried his spirit, and yet it seemed to only strengthen his faith. The darker the path before him, the more certain he became that God had a plan to see him to the light on the other side.

He raised the pendant on his necklace, Saint Aldwin's cross, to his lips for a kiss when he ended his prayer, and rose to answer the door. He remembered to collect his shirt from atop the small chest at the foot of his bed and pull it on before opening the door for Sheryl.

"Milady," he greeted her with a kind smile, bowing his head respectfully, the cross on his necklace spinning in the air before falling back to his chest. He had kept his room orderly, with the rest of his clothing packed away in the small chest, his boots beside it, and his pipe and tobacco pouch sharing his bedside table with a small stack of books:

The Bible, the New Gallican Catholic Catechism, Christendom Across Worlds: Teobrec United Doctrine, Prayers of Saint Aldwin, and Vita Karoli Magni (The Life of Charles the Great).

There was a small chair near his room's window, but he did not appear to use it for sitting. Instead there he placed his side-sword, a rapier-like blade ideally suited for a mix of armored and unarmored opponents, and his mail shirt. This was not traditional mail: the mesh was designed to repel blades, certainly, but also offered limited protection against firearms similar to a kevlar vest. At a glance it simply appeared to have lightweight metal mail on the exterior and a glossy black fabric on the interior.

By leaving his sword and his armor out in the open, he could grab both and be ready for combat at a moment's notice.

"Would you honor me with your name?" he asked Sheryl with the same respectful tone.

Sheryl Resendei

Date: 2013-06-27 09:03 EST
"It's...it's Sheryl, sir." She thought it was best to give her common name, seeing as how her Scathachian name was little used (be that a sin of her Mother's). "I've just come to deliver you some sheets and towels and the like. For your first night with us." She had come for more than that, but to barrage the poor man with I have a million questions to ask you about your culture and your religious predisposition was not really something that she felt would sound so great coming out of her mouth.

Sheryl smiled softly to him; she had a quiet ease and peace about herself that was usually remarked on by most she met. She had hoped she was not so off-putting as to be disturbing the man. "And also that dinner will be served in about two hours." She chewed the inside of her lip for a moment before she continued, "But it's not my turn to cook, so I cannot say in what shape the meal will be once it reaches the table. And actually, Janie isn't a bad cook either, but it was her turn last week. Just be glad that it's not Trixie's turn! Everything she cooks is nearly raw. And while they say that rare meat holds the most nutritional content, I usually fancy my dinner a bit more...well, dead. I think it's Delphinea's turn this week. And while she usually is wont to charbroil everything to within an inch of hell, I will say that Phin has been improving in her culinary skills as of late. Mostly due to the influence of a giant that frequents the Sanctuary. Perhaps you know her? Kuori is her name and she actually is not a bad cook. At least the portions are large..." She paused, sensing that she was beginning to ramble, as she often did when she was nervous or felt the need to fill a silence with conversation.

Another gentle smile as she held the clean linens toward him, "I'm sorry. Sometimes I tend to get too excited when we have strangers." As if she were starting over, she cleared her throat, "I'm Sheryl. Welcome to the Sanctuary. I'd be glad to show you around before dinner if you'd like."

Roland

Date: 2013-06-27 09:50 EST
Roland's smile grew slowly as she rambled, not seeming to mind in the least, though her manner raised his eyebrows. She was not like the other Sisters he had encountered when entering the Sanctuary earlier today nor in years past. At the offered apology he chuckled quietly and shook his head.

"There is no need to apologize, milady. I am honored to know you, and it sounds," his smile split into a grin, "as if your order and mine have the same issues. Sir Seamus burns everything," he informed her, "and blames the ovens."

He murmured an 'excuse me' and turned away from the door long enough to put the linens and towels on the foot of the bed and pull his boots on. "I do not know your sister Janie, or your friend Kuori, but I have met Delphinea, and also Trixie, years ago."

He also retrieved his sword, buckling it around his waist to hang at his hip. Safe as the Sanctuary was, and as capable as he believed the Sisters to be, he could not assist them how he had pledged without his chosen weapons close at hand. Well he could, but that was another story for another time...

"I would be very grateful if you showed me around," he said as he returned to the door, shutting it after him. "Does the Sanctuary have a training yard" And do you know if any of your Sisters use blades such as this?" he added, indicating his sword by setting his hand on the pommel.

Sheryl Resendei

Date: 2013-06-27 20:33 EST
Her laughter came easily, as it so often did, "Sir Seamus blames the ovens?" Sheryl's chuckle slowly subsided as Roland took the linens and donned his boots and weapon.

"We do have something of a training yard! It's a great big room, more of a hall really. It's where we exercise and keep ourselves in shape. And on more than one occasion has an argument been settled in there." The humorous undertone in her voice noted that she had probably been on the winning side of at least one of those arguments. "Come...it's actually just at the mouth of this hallway here, if you'd like to see it."

As she moved quickly down the hallway, Sheryl was happy to point out the other features of her home, "Most of these rooms are for Sisters who either come and go as they wish...here begins the resident Sisters' rooms, most of the girls tend to bunk up if we've got a full house, sort of like we do now with all of the citizens of the Temple needing a place to stay...this is the way out to the courtyard, and I guess that you could train out there where the grounds tend to be long and narrow..."

Through the columned hallways and smaller receiving rooms, out into the gardens and well-tended grounds, Sheryl ushered Roland about the property, hoping that he would find it to his liking and feel more at home here. It wasn't until they were in the front garden, within sight of both the front gate and the Temple ruins next door, that she began her careful inquiry.

"They say that where you come from, there is one god to hear the prayers of the many. Is that his symbol there?" She gestured to his Saint Aldwin cross. "I do not mean to pry, I just find that interesting. There is another culture, quite a ways from here, that has only one god. Curiously enough, they actually evolved socially from a polytheistic culture. It's always intrigued me, what happens to the relics and memories of the many when forced out by the one?" She shrugged lightly as she looked up toward the nearly setting sun, the light of the day's end was sparkling through the trees and warming her skin. "I have read that many of the monotheistic societies usually redefine themselves from polytheism after a renaissance of sorts, or some kind of sudden advancement in philosophy or critical thinking." She caught her breath and bit her tongue as she squinted at the sun and then looked to Roland. She was doing it again. Rambling.

"I am sorry, Sir Roland. Perhaps I should let you tell me about your home?" Dinner was still an hour and more off, so she gestured to one of the stone benches along the walkway for them to sit.

Roland

Date: 2013-06-28 09:17 EST
"In New Haven, my brothers settle their arguments, as you say, on a log over a muddy pit." He smirked. "I understand in the Lodge in Teobern they do the same, when our commander Sir Luca is not around....In Bretland, I simply send any quarreling knights to bring back a ten-point stag. The deer can grow very large where I am from," he added, "but it usually takes them more than a day, and when they return?" He gave a rather Gallic shrug. "Their differences are settled."

After that Roland continued on quietly, letting her show him around the grounds, occasionally murmuring softly at its beauty but otherwise keeping his silence. At her battery of questions, though, once they reached the front gate, he sucked in a breath as his brow knit thoughtfully. "Yes, this is his symbol," he was able to begin, and shook her head at her apology. He went to the indicated bench to sit, waiting for her to be seated first.

Once they were settled in, he lifted the cross up on the tip of his thumb: "We believe in one god, simply named God in our culture, and in Christianity....one of a small number of faiths that worship Him....this is our symbol. God is embodied in three persons, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit — what we call the Trinity. And because He loves us, he sent his Son, Jesus Christ, to Earth to be with us and to forgive our sins. He was crucified, nailed to a cross where he died for our sins....which is why it is our symbol."

He had to think to remember each of her questions, each of her points, but after a pause he continued, "We believe in only one god, and He hears all of our prayers. I do not know about evolving out of a polytheistic culture, that all faiths of many gods are bound to a path to have only one — I have been places where the opposite has happened, or where people who launch rockets into space worship their ancestors....and I like to believe my faith was divinely inspired, not a natural progression," he said with a good-humored twist of his lips. "Do not worry, I am not offended....and I hope I have not offended you, with my belief in only one god. It has become rather complicated," he admitted, "since we have come to this place..."

He rubbed his chin, thinking, and opened his mouth to speak, then shut it, frowning. Then he laughed helplessly. "I am afraid I do not know where to begin, there. I have been meditating on the doctrine my Church has adopted alongside an elven Church native to our new country, which deals with these matters, but I do not fully understand it myself....I could lend it to you, if you are curious" It is called Teobrec United Doctrine."

Sheryl Resendei

Date: 2013-06-30 17:39 EST
She welcomed the tales of Roland's home world and life. In fact, she would probably bring up the names he had uttered at a later time, paired with a few more questions. But for now, she smiled and nodded energetically, soaking up what she could from his accent and the culture he spoke of.

"Your God, sir Roland, he must be busy to hear all the prayers. But, judging from you and what you've spoken of your people, I think he has done well." Sheryl's chin turned and pointed across the courtyard as she looked over the herb gardens there. The sun, yawning past its zenith, still shone on the white-washed walls of the Sanctuary and sparkled in each swirl of her blonde hair. "We have to gather a few things for dinner. Nothing too taxing. Phin said she wanted basil, thyme and watercress." She turned her head to Roland, "Join me?" She stood up after a moment and smiled to him. "And you can tell me more of this Teobrec United Doctrine. Critical thinking, especially in the realm of human existence, is a welcomed art. There are too many, in my opinion, who would flippantly dismiss such pristine revelations. For we are human, after all, and we do not get several lifetimes to 'get it right'. We have but one time to experience all we can."

Pausing as her steps began the short jaunt across to the herb gardens, she squatted down and began to pick through the watercress. "It is unfair. Since coming here, I have seen more creatures who will outlive me several times over and I cannot help but be jealous of all they will see, all they will experience after I am long dead." Sheryl was looking down, her hair hung in pale ringlets past her shoulders. She seemed to shrug, "So, I try to learn all I can and do the best that I may with the information, in a largely futile effort to keep up with those that to me seem immortal." After a sigh and a lap full of watercress, she lifted her face to let the sun shine on it. She smiled to Roland, seemingly accepting her short-lived fate and all of the work it required. "I hope you like watercress."

Roland

Date: 2013-07-01 09:08 EST
"I had meant to loan you the book on Doctrine in case I misspeak, but yes, perhaps," he nodded. "And the Lodges have their own gardens as well." Roland paused for a moment, struck once again by the similarities between their respective Orders, then smiled as he followed to help her. "Sometimes we put watercress in our soup. They say it is good for you."

He picked the basil while she took care of the watercress, showing great care with each plant: there was a line between encouraging new growth and taking too much. At her words on mortality he frowned, making a thoughtful rumble in his throat, until something she said triggered a burst of laughter from him.

"My apologies, I mean no offense by laughing....It is just that you remind me, very strongly," he said, lifting his eyes to her, "of an old friend. You are truly a scholar, to envy long life not out of fear or a thirst for power, but so that you may never stop learning. My mortal body is bound to the same fate as yours..." It was true: Arctos, while he changed Roland's senses and influenced his mind, would not lengthen his life. "But when that time comes....may your soul find a place with many books."

Satisfied with the collection of basil gently clutched in one hand, he moved across the busy garden, eyes searching for the next ingredient but not thinking to look behind her. "I have made the time to find thyme," he muttered, "so where is it?"

Sheryl Resendei

Date: 2013-07-01 11:29 EST
The knight's sentiment gave her pause. It was a lovely thought; to spend eternity not in victorious battle, as many of her Scathachian Sisters may have wished, but to be surrounded by knowledge left for the taking. Would that not be the eternity she would wish for herself"

"Sir Roland, what does your Order's doctrine tell you of your afterlife" Scathach and her sister, Aoife, are locked in eternal battle in the heavens, and we are meant to emulate that. To be glorified in victory of the battlefield is what most warriors strive for. And in fact most of my Sisters look forward to that day when their service on this plane is finished and they may join Scathach in her war in among the heavens. But...I..." She stalled here, not wanting to offend or off-put her Sisters or her goddess. Quietly she stood from her kneeling position and looked toward the knight, "A place with many books would not be so unwelcome to me."

She grinned next at his pun. "The thyme is there," she pointed to just beyond Roland's reach, at the edge of the garden. "I think that you will get on very well here, Sir Roland. I for one am glad you are here." Sheryl could not wait to get her hands on the book of Doctrine. She was already nearly salivating at the thought of what new ideas it might contain.

Roland

Date: 2013-07-01 12:16 EST
Roland's grin mirrored hers at his choice of pun and he moved to pick thyme for their meal, though the time of their meal was out of his hands. "Christianity has taken many forms in many places over two thousand years, and most I know of have Heaven, a paradise for those who have repented, recognized and asked forgiveness for their sins....and Hell, a place for the wicked. Who goes where and for what reasons has..." He frowned here, remembering how the Archpriest Paul Curthose spoke of Roland's 'tainted' soul. "It is still debated."

When he'd gathered what seemed like enough, he rose to stand nearby, tipping his head forward, a happier expression replacing the frown again, with a sly edge to his smile: "On certain matters, rather privately, my brothers and sisters in the Order....maintain the spirit of our faith, but hold some knowledge that is uniquely our own..." His eyes moved away from her, looking up at white clouds rolling past the sun.

"I have seen it, and so have the others, when we give our dead the funeral they deserve. Through the smoke and flame of their pyres I have seen the great hall that awaits us, where every knight has an honored seat, a tankard that never empties, and a great feast. Some come and go and others seem to always stay, but there is always a story or a song as we share the great battles and brave deeds of those who have died and those who yet live....And one day, I shall join my fallen comrades in that hall..." He looked back at her, the sly edge to his smile returning. "But do not tell my priest."

"As for fighting for Scathach in the hereafter....I know my way around many weapons, yet that does not stop me from acknowledging the mind as among the greatest weapons. I am very far from an expert on your faith, and I hope I do not offend," he added, dipping his head, "but if your goddess needs you for battle, perhaps she will have you use every weapon you master, including your mind."

Roland breathed a soft sigh, having another long look around the beautiful grounds. This would indeed be good for him, as would joining them in battle when the time inevitably came...."We should get these to your sister Delphinea, and make sure she is not charring the meat too badly," he added, raising his eyebrows.