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 Post subject: Strangers on This Road
 Post Posted: Fri Aug 03, 2018 10:24 pm 
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Joined: Wed May 06, 2009 4:27 pm
Posts: 297
Location: Eagle Shire/King's Point
“Nam et si ambulavero in valle umbrae mortis, non timebo mala: quoniam tu mecum es tu; Virga tua et baculus tuus ipsa consolabuntur me. Pones coram me mensam coram adverso hostium meorum inpinguasti oleo caput meum: meum calix meus inebrians. Sed et benignitas et misericordia subsequetur me omnibus diebus vitae meae et habitabo in domo Domini in longitudinem dierum.”

Fionnigan finished the Dominus Reget and made the sign of the phoenix then rose from his kneeling position at the alter. These days the prayer had a new meaning given the realm was again living in the shadow of the four horsemen of dispair. The small folk were literally walking through the valley in the shadow of death every day.

Fionnigan lit nine candles for a few souls, and turned to bar the doors to the church. As he turned to make his way to the large ironwood doors at the front of the church three loud knocks came. Fionnigan opened the doors of the church to the Arch-Heirophant and two green backs.

“Father Hellblazer.” the Arch-Heirophant said with a nod.

“Arch-Heirophant.” Fionnigan said returning the nod.

“May we come inside?” the Arch-Heirophant queried.

“Yes. Of course. Please come in.” Fionnigan said.

Fionnigan stepped behind the door as the Arch-Heirophant and his enterouge made their way into the modest stone church. Fionnigan eyed the green backs closely. The men were part of the Emerald City's city guard known by the small folk as green backs for the long green tabards they wore. The city guard was commanded by the royal champion. These men being sent to Eagleshire was a direct move on the part of the crown's small council. The question then was is it also the crowns orders.

“Arch-Heirophant you didn't tell me you were coming. I would have...”Fionnigan was in the middle of saying before the Arch-Heirophant cut him off.

“I didn't want you to know we were coming, acolyte These men and I are on a mission of gave importance. You are aware that the Phoenician faith, our faith, has been given special consideration from the crowns current policy of regulated magic use, correct?” Asked the Arch-Heirophant coldly.

“Yes.” replied Fionnigan

“And you are aware that we are only allowed this special consideration if we continue to serve the crown and to keep our word that we will not aid rogue magic users correct?” the Arch-Heirophant responded.

“Of course.” replied Fionnigan now looking the Arch-Heirophant directly in his eyes.

“So then it would be ludicrous to take any of the rumors that you are hiding rogue magic users in the church as truth?” the Arch-Heirophant snapped back.

“I have heard these rumors, Arch-Heirophant They are lies.” the last words came out of Fionnigan's mouth in the growling yet singing manner that was the result of Fionnigan using the command spell known as The Voice. The Voice was a technique taught by the Bene Gesserit sisters of the Phoenician faith. The sisterhood was an all female monastic order formed of many nunneries spread across all of Amtgardia. The Voice was taught usually only to women. Fionnigan was taught by The Little Sisters in his early days of studying to become a priest. He was the first man to ever learn the Voice.

The Arch-Heirophant began to smile in a genuinely warm smile, and placed his hands on Fionnigans shoulders clapping them.

“Of course they are. You are one of our finest priests. I have to keep the crown happy with the church. You understand?” the Arch-Heirophant said as he readied himself to leave.

“I do, Arch-Heirophant You have a truly taxing duty for the great phoenix. I do not envy you.” Fionnigan replied.

“Well we will leave you for the evening. Am's blessings on you, acolyte” said the Arch-Heirophant

“And also upon you.” replied Fionnigan and the two made the sign of phoenix.

Fionnigan and his three guests made their way to the two great ironwood doors. The Arch-Heirophant and his two companions made their way out of the church, and Fionnigan closed and barred the doors. He took a candle from the candelabra to the left of the doors and made his toward the rectory, Once in the rectory Fionnigan made his way to the kitchen and the wine cellar. He opened the door to the wine cellar and made his way down the small ladder.

Fionnigan stepped onto the black dirt floor of the wine cellar and turned around. The candle he was carrying lit the darkness and the twenty or so magic users of all stripe crowded into the cellar. From the darkness stepped Reginald Chinchillington a powerful and young magic wielder who had studied all of the arts and had not gone insane as the legends had said would surely happen. Some had begun to see him a some sort of magical prodigal son.

“We have a problem.” Fionnigan said.

"A mind needs books as a sword needs a wetstone, if it is to keep it's edge.”
Tyrion Lannister

I do not suffer fools gladly, and fools with white belts never.

Mortem proditoribus.

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