[IC] The Awakening

[hannahbbug3]

The grand city of Alvon, harbor of the faithful and home of the last remnants of the holy, welcomes three strangers onto its streets tonight. The past centuries of eternal twilight have been relatively kind to this eye of an island in the middle of the world's largest lake - at least, comparatively. With water of seemingly eternal depths splitting it off of the tumultuous mainland for miles on every side, Alvon has become its own pocket city. Here is the home of the king of Memnas and his nobles, the home of the Temple of the Three and its priests that continually promise an end to the darkness plaguing the land. This is a city where nothing has changed for ages... save streets being rerouted due to the constant tremors from the depths of the lake, and the gradual decay of buildings over time.

This city, home to the last standing Temple of open worship to the Three, is where said three strangers make their way tonight. Suspicious eyes are cast upon you as you walk through the streets of Alvon, up to the second-highest plot of land in the city where the temple rests (the first-highest, of course, being reserved for the palace). Strangers are rare and suspect in this city, and the three of you, with your foreign features and clothing, stand right out among the locals. You do not feel welcome.

Eventually, though, you reach the steps of the temple. Perhaps as expected, there is a priest sitting at the door, who watches you each approach - either individually or together. Unexpectedly, though, the man is sitting in a pool of his own bile, clearly drunk with a bottle of elven absinthe in his left hand. As you near the doors, he lifts the bottle in a toast to you, grin lopsided and voice coming out in slurred elven.

"Cheers an' hail, stranger! Th' Tavern of th' Tree- Th-Three welcomes ya'!" he says. Snorts. Guffaws. Vomits again and ends up curled on his side on the staircase to what was once the greatest temple in the world. He begins to mutter under his breath as you pass inside the doors, an ancient prayer in the language of the Divine for health and prosperity - only the words are mangled, jumbled, and make no sense. Whether that's because of drunken stupor or the simple fact that the words of the prayer have been lost to time is anyone's guess.

Tonight, the parish hall is noisy and crowded. Where there were once pews, there are now tables. Where there was once an altar, there is a bar - no, scratch that, the altar is the bar. You can still make out the intricate carvings and delicate prophecies ingrained into the wood beneath all the stains and under several drunkards slumped against its holy surface. The bartender, the only man in the room who does not appear to be in some stage of drunkeness, is passing out drinks along with proverbs - preaching as he provides to his gathered 'flock' of alcoholics. When you step into the room, the man lifts his head and offers a jovial wave.

"Table for you?" he asks.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

You all can have come in together or separately, up to you. But the details of the setting are largely the same even if you come in seperately, save the drunk on the doorstep might be in the middle of his prayer instead of giving you a greeting.

[Rattlebones]

Hrad stepped into the parish hall and looked around.

Those who looked over would see an imposing man, towering over most other humans, clad in chain shirt armor. He has close-cropped blond hair, his face is clean-shaven, and his eyes are golden with small flecks of bronze near the iris. His skin is fair and pale, with high cheek bones and a strong jaw, but criss-crossed with numerous scars. He carries a greatsword in a scabbard in one hand and holds his cloak closed with the other.

We have but one temple left in the world, and this is how they treat it?

Hrad winced slightly. He had been conversing with The Sun during the trip from the Land of the Seven Princes, teaching it about the world and learning of his destiny. The Sun had asked many questions, mostly pertaining to geography, nations, cultures, and economics. When he had first joined to The Sun, it had asked mainly questions about history... it wasn't very interested in history anymore. Only the future.

They will learn respect in due time. Hrad, find the others.

The man looked around. He had felt a small, invisible prick in his mind for the last few days every time he faced the city on their journey. The feeling did not grow stronger as they came closer, but it did take less time to feel it as they approached. Like finding north on a compass as you get closer to the top of the world. This time he felt it almost instantly. Two figures, a man and a woman...

[Stevesciguy]

After days of travel, Ragmjir reaches the city of Alvon. It was odd being so far from Sokysiya - until now he had only ever left it during the raids.

Ragmjir was a large man by most standards. He had grown tall, and the physical demands of his life had left him strong. His hair and beard were long but well kept, and a gaze hardened by experience peered from under a heavy brow.

Upon entering the temple, Ragmjir is stopped by a momentary twinge of annoyance for the blatant disrespect of history. A relic of times past, being used as a common tavern. The twinge passes, and he moves into the room.

Upon being greeted by the bartender, he replies in his rumbling voice:

"No thank you. I am only here to meet someone."

Then he scans the room for anyone out of place. On this night, it would be likely that anyone sober would be who he was looking for.

[Capt. Infinity]

A bar.

They turned the temple into a bar.

Well now, isn't this already interesting?

Genevieve had always been a vagabond. In her current life, as well as her past ones up to the first. A beast of revelry, chaos, and debauchery. And, though she's mellowed out much in millennia of exile, and found a degree of merit in the nobility of ancient tradition, she'd be lying to herself if she said she didn't still have a subtle love for quiet sacrilege, and heresy in the name of fun.

And so, as the raven-haired, dark-eyed, pale skinned woman of sharp features sauntered into the room, what noted shard of pain she felt for the death of her memory was at the very least masked and outmatched by a low, sultry laugh. A devils-may-care guffaw at the abjectly muddled state of the ancient faith she'd unwillingly left behind. She speaks in low tones. Husky, but always softly flowing. I... Honestly don't know what I expected." She mutters to the open air in quiet admittance. "But, all things considered, there are far worse fates than this..." She states flatly. Almost... Admiring the heresy all around her. Though, she could undoubtedly feel a quiet upset at her lost faith. A want to be recognized. To reawaken the world to the moon's beauty. And possibly reassess what that beauty truly means in the first place.

She had been sitting for some time when a pair of men entered the tavern's once-hallowed hall. The first a brunette man of high stature, with simple clothing and an ageless face. The second a man clad in steel and confident poise. Hair a glimmering gold as he stood in stark contrast to the seething underbelly of the world around him. It did not take a probing of minds to know which of the men was which. Idly, she waved them over to her place at the bar. A pair of stools already set out for the both of them. From beneath her red cloth hood, the men could only make out a wry, full-lipped, ruby-red smile. With the faintest of whitish glows seeping out from beneath the silken covering.

"I do believe 'someone' is over here, Old Friend." She calls out to the Sokisyan with the wise, distant eyes. "And bring the fuddy-duddy in the eye-searing armour along with you. I believe all three of us have some catching up to do."

[Rattlebones]

"Greetings". The man in the golden armor sits heavily, causing the legs of the chair to groan. "These heathen would not recognize piety at a thousand yards. You know...', he flicked his eyes toward the eldritch sign on her forehead, "You stand out in your own way. That witchsign may be difficult to... But where are my manners? I am Hrad Shukhov, of the Land of the Seven Princes. I am, apparently, The Sun."

[Capt. Infinity]

"And yet, I still stick out less sorely than you..." Genevieve breathes in a low chuckle. Meeting his extended hand with her own. "Genevieve Deselene, of the 'Rhennesiya' nomads. Or, for your purposes, the Moon." She explains. Sparing no subtlety for her air quotes as she lists the colloquial name for her people. Sparing them all the confusion of her explaining their actual name.

She retracts her hand and from under her hood raises a single eyebrow at the man's seni-reticent statement of his identity. "'Apparently'? You sound as though you're not quite sure." She smiles softly. "Still struggling with what's in your head, oh high and mighty Sol?" She chuckles. Revelling in how strangely right it felt to rib at her opponent of so many years ago.

[Rattlebones]

Hrad taps a finger on the table in thought. "At first, my thoughts and the Sun were separate. It spoke to me. I spoke back. It was a clearly a conversation. Now...," he shifts in his chair, "Now, I find myself speaking words without thinking of them first. My memories are filled with things it never told me. I know it is my destiny, but it is still strange to think that at some point, the name 'Hrad' will no longer mean anything. I will just be 'The Sun.' So for right now... it is a title. It will probably be more than that in the future."

He looks up at Genevieve. "I wonder why you didn't struggle?... No matter. We have found each other, and that is what matters. I assume you two share my disappointment with the current state of the world?" He blinks. "The Sun's disappointment with the current state of the world. There is much to be done, but where do we start?"

[Stevesciguy]

Ragmjir walks across the room, in long, purposeful strides. His neutral expression is briefly broken as he gazes over the two others before him, so juxtaposed against each other. Then he speaks:

"Ragmjir Grímsson. Inn Spaki of my people in Sokysiya."

His voice is deep and forms the words harshly, yet oddly melodic.

"The state of the world is what it is. But aye, it was once more. I still remain unsure of this. Us gods? It contradicts all I have been taught."

[Capt. Infinity]

Genevieve can't help but smile mirthfully at Hrad's tale of inner discourse. Understanding. But also strangely amused. Evidently some part of her was happy to have superceded her other. For once. "Oh, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it, Hrad. For now, while he's still in there, rather than out here, tell the Old Man I said hello. And that I eagerly await the moment when he sees us 'worthy' to 'grace' us with his presence." She chuckles. Parroting phrases long dead. Phrases whose origin not even SHE was fully clear on. But which felt right to say, regardless.

Her expression grows notably more serious when she faces The Stars. Or Ragmjir, as was currently the case. "Happy to see you again, Old Friend." She smiles for a brief instant. "And for what it's worth, I sympathize with your difficulty. My people had little time for the Giants OR the Gods. But the truth is as apparent as it could possibly be. And we must make the most OF that truth. Or doom ourselves to another cycle of this shikanery." She explains. Glancing between both men.

"I can agree to a point about the state of the realm, Hrad. Turning my night and your day into times of oblivion and strife is a troublesome occurence. As is the death of the knowledge of the realm before. And, whilst I'll admit to some dark amusement at how utterly debaucherous our temple has become..." She sighs. Smiling at the decadent chaos around her as she idly looks about the room. Before returning her gaze to Hrad and Ragmjir. "I can agree wholeheartedly that something must be done." She sighs openly. The only question NOW is what?"

[Rattlebones]

"Now is the time for caution." Hrad looks from side to side before lowering his voice a hair. "The world has been shaped by unbelief, in the same way that a tree will grow around the railings of a fence. Their cultures, politics, economies, and circles of power have their balance, and the return of faith -- especially organized faith -- will shake that balance. Many of those structures will buckle. We may be gods, but these mortal frames are vulnerable, and those who are threatened will not surrender quietly. If we are to succeed, we must move forward in measured steps."

He holds up a finger. "First, we must increase the power and resilience of these mortal bodies."

Two fingers. "Second, we must shepherd the faith. I believe we should start by building a triumvirate cult, with ourselves as the leaders. Once we are ready, we can reveal our true forms and split. At least for the beginning, we should pool our resources and efforts."

Three fingers. "Third, we must investigate where and when to reveal ourselves. Different nations, races, and cultures will be more favorable to our different aspects. We should coordinate so that the reveal is simultaneous, but in front of our best audiences."

Four fingers. "Finally, we must be prepared for upheaval. The world will not take the news smoothly. We can expect revolutions, wars, and panic. I know that may not bother you as much, Moon, but we will have to use our power and resources to make certain the world is not left in ruins."

[Capt. Infinity]

Slowly, Genevieve began nodding her head. Smiling warmly. "I must say, Hrad, assuming this came from you and not the Old Man, you have quite the tactical mind." She encourages happily. "By all accounts, the plan seems quite solid. We have to be smart about this. And a pooling of resources seems like the smartest thing to do at this juncture. At least until we get somewhat back on our feet."

The Moon's Eye can't help but chuckle at the Sun's mild jabbing. "Oh please. The moon that reveled in war was a younger, more rambunctious deity. Much as I can enjoy a good upheavel... Rhennebois has more than cooled me on the general idea of chaos incarnate." She sighs. Shivering in dismay for a short moment at memories of the unkempt ugliness that lay within those forest depths. "I plan to be just as smart as the rest of you in these efforts. With luck, perhaps a good note smarter." She smiles. Her teeth almost unnaturally pearlescent white. Shining out from beneath her wine dark hood. "I'm in, young Sun." She nods, before glancing at Ragmjir. "But what about you?"

[hannahbbug3]

As the three gather at their own table and begin to talk, their presence is not unnoticed. Soon enough, a barmaid scuttles over to them, using a wet washcloth to wipe down the table as she speaks. "What can I get for ya?" she asks. Her shirt is cut low but at least her skirt is long. Still, she's not shy of the display of cleavage she's giving. "Drinks? Food? Anything more?" she asks, batting her eyes at Hrad and his shining armor. "You look like you've had a long journey, sirah..."

[Stevesciguy]

"Indeed, increasing our power is the first step. But the rest does not sit well with me. You speak of the people as if they are sheep to be lead - as though they are mindless creatures incapable of making decisions for themselves. For seven years I have had the best and worst of humanity brought before me. Treat them as equals, rather than inferiors, and you may find this transition smoother than you thought."

To the barmaid:

"No thank you. I do not have food on my mind, at the moment."

[Capt. Infinity]

"I'm inclined to agree with the both of you, to a degree. Mortals are at their most interesting when let off the leash. Though... It HAS been a while, Old Friend." Genevieve offers, as amicably as she can. "Perhaps it would be best to come at this as something close to teachers. The world has somewhat lost its way. And guidance over discourse may be the best option. At least in the early beginnings."

As the barmaid begins her cleaning and offers, Genevieve can't help but smile towards the woman. "Actually. A pint of something strong sounds rather enticing at the moment." She grins. Her pearlescent teeth shining like the white face of her patron heavenly body. "As for other goods on offer, I'm afraid you'll likely get nothing out of your 'sirah'. He's not the type to... Love freely, we'll call it. Although..." She trails off for a moment. Her head leaning forward, just enough for her violet eyes to be visible beneath her hood. Eyes clearly drawn towards the barmaid's display, before meeting her eyes thereafter. "Perhaps you and I could chat after my friends and I are done, hm? After all, the night is young, and strange things can happen in the light of a rising moon..." She coos happily. Knowing full well the woman may spurr her sapphic advances. But fully prepared to enjoy her bemused sputtering as much as she was a positive reception.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Obviously, this is just a frivolous start to the adventure. But hey, why not make it a fun way to introduce character traits?

Also, Hrad might want to ask her if anyone's been waiting for us or something, obviously. Since this may well be a plot hook in the making.

If it matters, taking 10 on a Diplomacy for a 16 on the meet-n'-greet.

[Rattlebones]

Hrad turns to Ragmjir. "You are right, in a way. A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals, and you know it. I expect each son or daughter of this world to choose the path of belief and humility after diligent consideration, but I know that crowds, let alone whole nations, will react with chaos."

He turns to the barmaid. "Yes, it has been a long journey. I will have a pint of mead, please." He listens to Genevieve, sighs, then gives a polite nod to the barmaid, "And that is all, thank you."

[hannahbbug3]

"Mead, something strong - absinthe, my lady?" the barmaid asks. She seems to be smiling to herself a bit at Genevieve's advances, even if there is a heavy blush on her features. She doesn't say anything in response to it, though, instead dipping her head in a bow and leaving the table.
She returns, a couple moments later, with four pints of mead, and the absinthe. "Yours, and yours," she says, handing over the single pints to Hrad and Genevieve. "And a round for the table, courtesy of our high priest," she adds, nodding in the direction of the bar itself. The bartender, who had been passing out drinks with scripture verses when you all came in, is now looking over at the table where you three are sat with extreme curiosity.

[Capt. Infinity]

"Thank you my dear." Genevieve hums. Leaning one elbow onto the cleanest section of the bar available as she picks up her drink. Nodding towards the barmaid with a devilish smile, and eyes beset in a near-constant smoulder.

As the barmaid mentions the barman however, the Aasimar's expression changes slightly. Her smile curling in slightly with a look of distinct intrigue. And, doing her very best to look as ominous and enticing as possible, she reaches towards the man's general direction with her free hand. A single, svelte finger beckoning him towards the trip of mortal-bound divinity. Casual as she can, she whispers to the three men beside her. "Ready yourselves, gentlemen. If Ragmjir's pantheon yet stands beside us, we may well be about to thank our lucky stars..."

[hannahbbug3]

The elven man takes a moment to come over, having to tend to the orders that are coming in, but he hollers for a barmaid to cover for him and she does, so it's only a couple minutes before the bartender leaves the altar-converted-bartop and approaches your table.

It's nearly impossible to tell age, with elves, but something about this man seems older than he appears. There is a wisdom in his eyes that is lacking in those that surround you - but considering that you're in the company of drunks, that's not a very high bar. Even so, arms crossed, he studies the three of you for a long moment.

"Aster Llewellyn," he introduces. "At your service."

[Rattlebones]

"Hello, Mr. Llewellyn." Hrad gives a polite nod and touches his fingers to his chest. "Hrad Shukhov." He gestures to the others at the table. "Ragmjir Grímsson inn Spaki. Genevieve Delselene. Have we met before? Did you need something?"

[hannahbbug3]

"You are quite curious... travelers, I must say, are not common here. Well, as I'm sure you know, the few people that do travel these lands are either foolish, powerful, or both," the bartender said. "It's not often that we get foreigners. I'm curious - what brings you all to the Temple of the Three?" Aster questions.

[Stevesciguy]

Ragmjir lets out a low, rumbling chuckle. Not one of humor, or mockery of the question, but of disbelief at the absurdity of the answer.

"You would not believe us if we told you, Llewellyn. We ourselves still are not sure of it."

[Rattlebones]

"We are... Looking for a new home." Which was true enough for a paladin avoiding revealing too much. "We are bound in a common cause, and we are planning how best to start. This tavern seemed like an appropriate place to meet to discuss."

[hannahbbug3]

"We live in a strange world," the bartender says in response to Ragmjir's words. He then directs his gaze over to Hrad, as he speaks. "I see," he nods. "Tell me, are you looking for work?" he asks. "Strangers are rare here, and often not trusted. But... you all look quite capable. I have a job that needs doing, and outsiders would be the perfect candidates."

[Rattlebones]

Hrad looks to his companions. "Additional funds could prove useful..."

[hannahbbug3]

"I assure you, it's nothing life threatening. Just a job for folks who are familiar with more than just what's inside the city," the bartender furthers.

[Rattlebones]

Hrad nods as he considers the suggestion, but looks to his companions for confirmation.

[Capt. Infinity]

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Sorry folks! Was gonna post. Then I got tired from work. Then I was in Spain. But now I'm back!

Genevieve listened closely to the group's discourse. Smiling knowingly as she watches the men around her haphazardly dance around the maddening truth they hid from the- From their high priest. Slowly, she nodded her head to both Hrad's quizzical gaze, and Aster's initial question.

"I assure you, Sky-Gazer, I am more than well-traveled by most people's standards." She chuckles mirthfully. "What is it you would have us do?"

[Stevesciguy]

"Aye, it does seem we may be here for a while. Honest pay for honest work is welcome."

[hannahbbug3]

"We're running a bit of a food shortage," Aster says, then chuckles. "Well, I say that, but we're not in dire straits... Y'see, we've got a festival coming up, a celebration for the Three, and I need to prepare a feast for the town. But we don't have a main course," he says. "We need something special. You all reckon you could find something like that and bring it in?"

[Stevesciguy]

"An interesting task. What is your definition of 'special'? I am afraid I am not familiar with the fauna here."