Off To Bed, A Brief Religious Discussion
Subject: Re: the mountain; descent
I am back in town, so a turn is going out today.
From: Scott
Subject: Re: the mountain; descent
DEAAAAAATH!
From: Ty
Subject: Re: the mountain; descent
No Granpa, that's just Maggie.
From: Ty
Subject: The Mountain; Burial Chamber
The party disperses a bit near the door. Each one drawn off by an enticing gleam or bit of treasure, or in Rennik's case, by the caskets of his kin. But everyone stops when Mission asks "How far can I scout around and remain in your. . . protection?"
All eyes turn to Cadfael. This is an important question. Everyone can feel the weight of Kor Garesh's presence in this place. Once it is noticed, it feels like a heavy burden placed around the neck, causing the shoulders to slump and the mind to numb. It is hard to believe that anything can escape his notice here. But Cadfael's reply seems to indicate that even here, in the heart of the demon's temple, he can't see those near the priest.
Rennik sucks in a worried breath when the priest picks up a stray bit of treasure and moves it aside. He quickly eyes the room, looking for any sign that a trap has been sprung, but nothing happens. Apparently, just touching stray bits of treasure doesn't set off any mantraps. He sees Mission moving off to scout, and he moves on in another direction.
Farron finds a nice open spot on the floor, and declares that this location is big enough for his Tiny Hut spell. He casts it, and climbs inside the protective bubble to rest. The constant pressure of being in this place makes his head hurt. Sa'id does not immediately join him, but instead stands outside the hut looking around at the various objects. On his face is a puzzled look, the same look he gets when he is solving riddles in his head.
Garyth finds a clear spot on the floor and sits down. With a soldier's trained practicality, he takes out all his weapons and begins preparing them for tomorrow. He works the edge of his sword with the whetstone he carries. He uses an oily rag to wipe down the blade, and then the head of the mace he has begun using. He examines his armor for rents or other damage. His actions are slow and methodical, and his face expressionless as he works. Any man who has ever served as a soldier would recognize what he's doing. He's preparing to go to war.
Rennik and Mission swing around the party in two converging arcs. When they meet, Rennik just says, "Anything?" Mission shakes his head. The room is just a giant repository of dead men and treasure. There is nothing else. From their current vantage point, about 20 yards away from the group, they can see the other wall. There is a large gold door in the middle of it. The exact replica of the one they used to enter the room. There is no way to tell where it goes, and since it is another hundred yards or so away, Mission is reluctanet to go examine it. It's too far from Cadfael's "protection".
There is little left to do but rest. Tomorrow, Promise will be born.
[check in please. Even just a "I sleep now" will be fine. Any defensive precautions taken should be noted, as should any watch rotations.]
From: Scott
Subject: Re: The Mountain; Burial Chamber
Mission will take the first watch.
From: Matt
Subject: Re: The Mountain; Burial Chamber
Rennik will take second watch, and will sleep as always with bow and three arrows placed carefully before him.
From: Dan
Subject: Re: The Mountain; Burial Chamber
Cadfael seems satisfied and will settle down for the night.
From: Mike
Subject: Re: The Mountain; Burial Chamber
Garyth's whetstone makes a scraping, ringing sound as it slides along his blade. He likes the sound. It's comforting. It's something real, something he can hold onto. Between magic and undead monsters and insanity and even the gods themselves, Garyth has come to feel small. Against such things, one soldier can do little. But this much he can do.
The sound of stone against steel continues. Scrape... Scrape...
Finally, Garyth stops, testing the edge against a thumbnail. It's good--sharp, but not so sharp that it will notch easily. He slides the sword back into its sheathe and bows his head, almost as if in prayer. But he offers no prayers--nothing good could hear him from this mountain anyway. He simply sits in silence, feeling the weight of his sword in his hand. Yes, this much he can do. This much is his own.
He says nothing as he enters Farron's magic barrier, and falls asleep as fast as any grizzled old veteran.
OOC: Garyth takes the third watch.
From: Raja
Subject: Re: The Mountain; Burial Chamber
Sa'id ducks quickly into the hut and murmurs a glamour. Noting Farron's quizzical glance, he mutters "something is not right" before moving back out of the hut to look at the gold again.
His eyes glow eerily as they flick over the riches -- not with avarice, but with magic. He struggles to keep from drawing immediate and possibly incorrect conclusions from what he sees, and instead paces around the outside of the hut, looking at as much gold as he can. He mutters to himself... "tainted... its aura is tainted, blackened... by the soul drinker? What bargain did these ancient folk strike with him?"
Or was that how it had happened? There was far more gold here than could ever have been mined on all of Huss, that much was obvious. More gold than could have been mined on Huss and Ammar put together. Either the teachings on geology at the wizards' school were all wrong, and the entire core of the world was made of gold... Or there was another, more reasonable and more obvious explanation.
Pelor.
It was obvious that the god was venerated among this race, perhaps above all others. That was reflected in both the door carvings and the gold-filled room, reflecting Pelor's yellow light. Were these his chosen people? In granting them riches beyond their wildest dreams, did the meddlesome god inadvertently allow his beloved halflings to become weak and vulnerable? Vulnerable to Kor Garesh's promises of further power? And then... the cataclysm. The halflings in the soul drinker's thrall, Pelor forced to shatter the race and imprison his enemy; putting him squarely at the centre of the ruined civilization's power would have been a powerful symbol and might well be the cause of the racial taboo mired so deeply in the halflings' collective unconscious.
Had Pelor caused this whole problem?
Sa'id can't suppress a cynical smirk. Second-guessing the gods could be a fun game, he muses. It was obviously more or less unprovable -- he couldn't very well discuss the matter with Pelor and Kor Garesh over khav, and their representative on this world had a problem with his brain being missing.
[OOC: Points to anyone but Dan who knows from whence I lifted that last bit]
He turns to watch his companions winding down for the night. "I don't need to say this, but don't take anything," he says. "The treasure is tainted; I believe it to be an effect of its long-term proximity to the prison of Kor Garesh." He pauses, and turns to face Rennik.
"Rennik, among the halfling tribes, how common is the worship of Pelor now?"
[OOC: Ty, if I know the answer to this question, feel free to just tell me.]
From: Matt
Subject: Re: The Mountain; Burial Chamber
Rennik turns to Sa'id, amused.
"This could be the last night you draw breath, and you wish to speak of my people's religion?" He chuckles. "Live each day as though it is your last... I guess that means live your last day like any other."
He stops to think for a moment.
"None of the tribes I know of pray to Pelor. The wilds are shaded lands and the tree canopy blocks the light of the sun. The gods of leaf and wood, of beast and battle - those are worshipped. The Chorrdath hold Mielikki sacred in their hearts, but we also revere the gods of neighboring tribes - Ehlonna, Silvanus, Obad-Hai, Yondalla, Lurue, Shiallia... some tribes even revere totem spirits of sacred animals."
He pauses, stopping to think why Sa'id may have asked the question. The spellweaver thinks a lot. Too much. Maybe he tries to link Rennik's people to these gold-worshippers?
"Our gods praise wisdom and cunning. The wilds are dangerous, and those with a sense of the world and their place in it survive, while those who think of foolishness and frivolous things lose their way, taken by the creatures of the wilds. This is the way of nature - the beasts of the wilderness who get lost in the reflections of the river are easy prey for predators not distracted by such folly."
"Perhaps it is best that the tribes do not worship this sun god, if this is what we came to because of it."