Waysoftheearth's Hinterlands PBP
Moderators: ehiker133, waysoftheearth
Pelenwin looks at the Deacon. "I am sorry to say that a number of distractions have brought unease and clouded what wisdom would otherwise be wrought within these walls." Pelenwin pauses.waysoftheearth wrote:Pelenwin; The Deacon's Study
The Deacon's office is a rather spacious, but bare stone chamber. The fireplace is unlit, so it is cool... bordering on cold inside. A single, narrow window admits light, its glass pane grubby for want of cleaning.
The Deacon himself is seated behind a broad desk of dark timber in an equally dark and unadorned chair. These furnishings look even more aged that he. The walls behind him are covered with high cases of books and tomes... it is a most impressive collection.
Pelenwin spies Wibert's dagger upon the desk, near to a pile of dusty old tomes and scrolls, and a half emptied bottle of brandy.
"Ah, our good Armiger, Pelenwin," says the Deacon with a curl of the lip which might -- if Pelenwin didn't know better -- be half a smile. "I trust your meditations have brought the wisdom you sought?"
(While tombowings was away, Pelenwin had entered a "retreat" to meditate upon his future course in life; would he continue to risk life and limb as a Knight errant? Or would he "retire" to a more sensible life? This is what the Deacon is asking about...)
"Yes, Father," Pelenwin says, picking up the dagger. "But do not forget that I do not belong to your order. The Knights of the Seal are defenders of the civilized realm. We understand what must be done and who must be associated with in order to protect your precious monks."waysoftheearth wrote:Pelenwin; The Deacon's Study
"This dagger belongs to another?" the Deacon seem surprised, and displeased. "I had been allowed to believe it was recovered by yourself on one of your fool hardy adventures," he continues, sourly, "But now I see that I was deceived."
He pushes the knife toward Pelenwin with the absolutely minimum expenditure of effort. "It is an Elvish thing, a Blade of Goch Gwyddyl if I am not mistaken, so I don't doubt it belongs in the hands of one of these companions of yours. Take it."
He rises from his chair uncomfortably, and then shuffles about to rid his old bones of stiffness. "Have a care, young Armiger," he says with a meaningful stare, "not to trust these half-Men you call friends too completely. They have their own purpose, and it is not the deliverance of Men from evil, of that I can assure you."
The Deacon shuffles over to the narrow, grubby window and gazes out over the ochre roofs of Ket.
"Yes, I am aware of the grave robbers," he grumbles with a dismissive wave of his hand, "It is an unspeakable crime, I know. I have assigned a brother to keep vigil over the boneyard by night from the bell tower, and we have several times seen the felons and reported them to the watch, but by the time they arrive the crime is ever done. What more can an old Deacon do? I have monks, not militia, and all my worthy templars are gallivanting about the countryside!"
He looks back at Pelenwin and stares for a long, calculating moment.
"Perhapsss, you could put these... friends... of yours to a worthy use, and catch these grave robbers yourself? Now that would be a Knightly mission..."