Post by brotherdiarmuid on Sept 23, 2010 14:41:01 GMT -6
Master Claramae St. Laurence
The Madame took a stroll through the halls designed to be the monument to all that was magnificent mystery in a world holding its designer and her early twenty years. Could it have been more? The talk of Monroe on the nature of souls, the rumor of the hall was that the Masters were incarnations of beings already moving somewhere ahead in time, for the thoughts, actions, motivations, and even the way in which clothes were worn were above the diseased mythos of the Dark Ages. How could a world in Renaissance be dark? Beyond the cold little island only certain bastions of culture acrewed the knowledge wrought by Templar foundings, so whilst Scotland only now came in to her own as a presence for culture, she was old by way of knowledge. The rest of the world seemed swinging toward a revival of religious zealotry instead of enlightened ideas. All of this thoughts circumnavigated the sphere of the Madame's brain in a sequence akin to a lock being opened for a door to go ajar. For the first time in many days she felt well enough to move without the aid of her cane, able to be herself in the absence of sound from step, clothes, and presence. (d)
Brother Diarmuid O'Corrain
In a hall designed to serve as monument to the glories of the mysterious and the sinister, it seemed somewhat fitting that a dark specter should walk its halls. After all, the undyed robes of a Cistercian would have looked out of sorts when it came to shepherding the souls of those who dwelled within its robes. For while the Ebon Talon contemplated the mysteries and enigmas of the mortal coil, the task often lead to a somber turn of mind and dress. Then truly, it was a sign from God that the Hall was tended to an Augustinian brother clad in black habit. And it was also fitting while he walked, Brother Diarmuid slowly worked the beads of the rosary through his hand as he contemplated the Sorrowful Mysteries. And yet, it seemed as though a somber mood was not for the brother's features. For as he walked, he was distinctly aware that he was not alone. Behind him, there came a young kitten... a black and silver tabby... who even now stalked the trailing cloth of the brother's habit. Pouncing upon it now and again, gently scratching at the black cloth. (D)
Master Claramae St. Laurence
Diarmuid was the way to return to God when all else was god-less. Since his coming there was a certain peace descending in the household that made a palpable calm. Turmoil was absent in many as work was completed with assured conviction of survival. Those sent out of the household had gone with the blessing of a worthy priest, those who remained took of his counsel. Madame Death couldn't be more pleased at the virtuous turn of life entering the hall of magic mirrors. Reflections were schismed, impossible things to discern. Was it truly what it appeared to be? Here, it wasn't always so. She wore no outward expression yet felt a pleasure watching the small object of fur follow the good brother about. "Good day, Brother O'Corrain. What have you, there?" It was a sweet young thing. Gazing down at it from a low railing was a cat of complete black persuasion, the emeralds in his collar identical with the shade of his keeper's dress (d)
Brother Diarmuid O'Corrain
Brother Diarmuid would pause, his quiet reverie broken by the greeting of another. Quietly, he would turn to face the Madame St. Laurence. "Blessed day," Brother Diarmuid said, a smile upon his features. After a moments pause, he asked, "I trust it finds you mending well?" He had noticed that the Madame walked without her cane. Praise be. Behind him, the tabby kitten would crouch down upon its haunches -- for its pray had stopped. The kitten would pounce once more upon the trailing fabric of the habit, setting about it with claws and teeth. "It is but a kitten ... a gift from the Lady Mean." As the kitten grew bored with its conquered prey - what fun was there to be had in stalking it, if it did not move? - would raise its eyes toward the other cat. The kitten would cant its head and mew in curiosity. Where as the lady's black cat had been given a most fitting name, the tabby kitten bore proudly silver 'M' upon its forehead. Said, in the tales of common folk, to be a sign of Mother Mary's favor for quieting a infant Christ. "She is called Clarie." (D)
Master Claramae St. Laurence
"The Ancient Egyptian treasured the feline, seeing it as emblem of wisdom and the afterlife, now they are still very wise, and good companions. I am much improved in health thank you for asking, the healing seems to have taken a better course. It shall only be as it has been, a little harsher, that with more injuries the colder it becomes the more impaired one could be. God will right it, should it see him fit." The little kitten saw mature ebon countenance with tail a'flick, flicking. Large yellow eyes peered down at her as he offered a sign of curiosity back. He leaned over the railing, yet didn't come down. On his throat he wore a collar of gold studded with emeralds and ruby, the cross in the center did his name pair with further irony. "Ah, such a gift most deserving. That is how I acquired that one," Her head canted to the feline sentinel on the railing as she came down. "His name is Mephistopheles, Sisto, for short." The cat was named after a demon who was all but Satan in some folklore. In later times ahead of this he would be that embodiment indeed. "How charming." It was her way of paying homage to the sweet scenario of mutual curiosity. She would settle on stairs edge for a moment, the cat coming to her. "What have you, Sisto. That isn't necessary, Voltaire is too cautious for my sake." She gently slid off the cats pair of gold claws so his entire claw set could comfortably retract, only to slide them in to the piece holding her veil in place. No need for him to unleash the poison in the claw tips on the kitten. Some had guardian dogs. She had a cat. "What business have you today, Brother?" (d)
Brother Diarmuid O'Corrain
There was little doubt that the good brother would arch a brow, as he watched her. As, no doubt, did the kitten. "It is, milady, an interesting name for a creature....." There was a broad smile, "Do his actions truly fit his name?" He observed the golden fashioned claws that were removed and tucked away. That tabby, of course, thought nothing of it. Just another curiosity that saw the kitten slowly draw nearer Sisto, to inspect the ebon dark feline. There was a quiet nod, when the Madame spoke of Christ healing touch. "I am sure that He will... for we are all His children, and it is He that mends our hurts." While modern medicine had indeed advanced most rapidly, it was still touch of God that would close wounds, mend bones, and cool those stricken with fervor. After a moment, he would say, "In truth, milady, I am glad that our paths have met.... for I would wish to speak to you on a matter. And I cannot think of any better to ask, then the Master of the Ebon Talon... although, I would also seek out the advice of the other Masters as well." There would be a moments hesitation, before he said, "Even now, there is a chill in the air....that will only grow more so the seasons continue. I worry for the less fortunate.... " Which was why he and the novices put under his charge, could so often be found in the sparring yard -- thoroughly inspecting donations of clothing. And why so often did he go round to the bread makers at the end of the day, to collect their unsold wares. "And from what I have seen... those who live in the Underdark are truly less fortunate." A hesitation. "And it had come in to my mind, that perhaps it would serve many to build an alms house there...." (D)
Master Peregrine Lamont
The wind swept through the halls with the fresh new scent of the autumn wood, and with it carried the child of the trees who smelled like the sea. Salt water clung to his skin like the rays of the summer sun, it bronzed the flesh and stamped him with the seal of his profession. Though, the year had been in solitude in his forest the habit was hard to kill, and when there was a heart as wild as Peregrine's his time away from society did well to keep him tame. "What is wrong with my Underdark?" Spoke the pirate from the door who never needed to knock, or knew the use of handles for he came in through the windows--or secret passages Claramae told him time and time again to not use.Ocean blue eyes would size the brother over as he walked past him, clothed with little as he could and still remain civil. In my hall Wildman you will remain clothed. The mistress had told him once on his afternoon ventures to surprise his wife wearing only a wrap around his hips. He liked to turn the face of Inveryne red, especially when she was in the midst of a lesson. He laughed hearing the statement of the brother and shook his head, "We survive, Brother. With and without your house. If it gets too cold, we shall catch it a fire hmm? Will burn for weeks if done right." Had he seen the skeleton of buildings already burned? "What reason have you to worry of anything but yourself?" In the time of the Queen's lost being, he took control back...he just didn't tell Rosalind that yet. (d
Master Claramae St. Laurence
"Brother O'Corrain, the Master Peregrine Lamont. In the under-dark you may here them call him the Goblin King, Prince of Mischief, or any other such sundry title he concocted while he was inebriated or surrounded by vagabonds." The introduction was delivered with a hint of dry sarcasm melding in with her disapproval of his entry. He never emerged in doors. Never was he announced by any entity but himself. One day he was going to be stock in the holding blocks because of it, his call of 'Okay I won't,' echoing in the walls. Emeraldine velvet kissed the marble floors as she went to him. "O'Corrain is the Master of Spirituality in the house ,and as such retains practice of his priestly vows. He has done well by your people, seeing them clothed, fed, I think he should seek your advice best on survival as well as his idea's execution, because those who are fed, clothed, and able will be less likely to become even the scourge that gives you problems. Even you do not favor starving children or disenfranchised women. And sweet, my brother.." Not Peregrine, brother? What had that shot done to her settings? "Stop coming in through the secret ways you keep trying to memorize, one day you will get stuck, mark me, and I will have to send in Viscreed to fetch you out." (d)
Brother Diarmuid O'Corrain
Perhaps it was an ill-time moment to jest, but Brother Diarmuid could not refrain from comment, "I think, for that last title, you lack the horns...." Still, there was a touch of a smile, "And good day, to you, sir. Does it find you blessed?" Such was his greeting. Even as he talked, Brother Diarmuid quietly worked the beads of his rosary through his fingers. How best to approach this? Hmm. Gently, he said, "We are all beings made of God's clay, Master Lamont, and as thus we are fallible... " Another moment's pause, he said, "And each day, we struggle between the Heavenly Virtues and the Deadly Sins.... And the sin that we all struggle against, is Pride. For it is the root of the other Sins -- and that which is truly deadly. I do not doubt that those of 'your' Underdark survive.... but is it not a constant a constant struggle to do so?" Brother Diarmuid watched Pere quietly, "It is Pride that whispers in the ear of the beggar, 'Take not this man's charity...for you survive.' And so the beggar does not take the bread offered to him. It is Pride that says, 'Do not take this man's kindness...you survive.' And it is the beggar who refuses warmer clothing, content in his threadbare rags... for he survives." Brother Diarmuid would step closer to Pere, "And it is Pride that says, 'Have I not proved that you need not take another's kindness? For you have survived!' ...as the beggar dies before his time, content that he has survived without the charity of others..." There was a quiet pause, "I have journeyed in to 'your' Underdark before...and I have seen how it is. Many are those who scrape and scrabble for such survival. It is heart rending to me, to see it.... and I do what I may, to see that they need not scrape for such a living. Does it truly grate against you so, that I might venture in to your realm and offer kindness and charity to those most deserving of it?" And, quietly, he said, "I also ask that you mark me clear...." Brother Diarmuid put his hand against the embroidered white Amalfi cross that marked his black habit. "For I am a Knight Hospitaller -.and my service I have faced many threats. Whether they have been the perils of cholera or the fearsome Sacaren warriors.. It is the charge of my order to both provide for and *defend* the poor and the infirm." The stern glance to Pere's eyes warned against testing that tenant of Brother Diarmuid's faith. For not many knew that he was apt to wear a hauberk of mail under his habit, or went about armed into the Underdark when giving alms. And fewer still, who had seen him unhorse a mounted villain with just his hands. (D)
Master Peregrine Lamont
"Mmmm no Brother." He moved like a cat around the man's shoulder with the smirk of the very devil himself, "Us Goblin King's only have one horn, and trust me..its there." His was the type of grin that carried all the way through his eyes of the burning sin that set behind it. In all the glory of the Lamont's work, Peregrine truly meant well. "Lord Lamont, thank you. I rather like being called Lord." He took a seat by the fire, pulling his feet up under him as he would then turn a wink to Claramae, "If that was a threat, then by all means..trap me down there, I shall make the Lady Viscreed a very happy woman with said horn." If Rosalind didn't remove it first. However, the man's terms were quick to still the heart inside his chest as Peregrine would rise again, infuriated clearly the devil did have horns in this matter. "Then let it be known, Knight Hospitaller, that those people there are there because of your kind. They are there suffering because of your God's will to cause them outcast this world. They are poor, but they are happy because they are accepted. It is honorable what you do. Do not get me wrong, I am thankful, but let it be known..you will burn first before any others, is that clear?" He closed the distance between he and the Brother. "Will you defend them against your order? Are you aware of this? All of them down there are outcasts or outlaws?" Including himself. "So you take pity on them all you want, but better be of the Underdark then dead..Brother." (d
Master Claramae St. Laurence
"HOLD the pair of you. We will not have this discourse in the open halls. Both of you are being prideful, too hard on your points. Stop it. The question is simply this: Can it be done, what the brother seeks in the underdark. The answer: it can. Peregrine is appreciative, though brother he is right. This is what you must remember, they will sooner rip you to shreds because of what was done to them by others like you than seek your kindness in the pure spirit of it. Though Lord Lamont will do well to remember that if all clergy were as the brother, why would he be in this house? There is a reason any have come to this house, it is in the same vow of service we all take for end or another. " She lifted her hand before folding it over her own, the train of her gown mild as it trailed behind her, and so too came the black cat. "We are all Masters, and we are all now akin to kin, like it or not. Argue as brothers over some joint subject. We all wear the title of Master here, well bestowed. It is done now. Would I wish to hear such quarrels I would have remained in the English parliament, or have taken habit to resume my duties in this one"
Lady Janice Viscreed
"Madame, is all well?" Came the delicate call from the top of the stairs. Not that one would expect a lack of argument before a gentlewoman (Peregrine had been half naked before her half of her life here on a nightly basis, and she had known the masters to be in worst rows.) "I have come to see if you've a need of anything, I shan't to court yet today. I hope you aren't being taxed." Men were taxing, argumentative, twisted creatures claiming that women were wrong ones. She lifted her skirts and all but skipped down the steps.
Master Claramae St. Laurence
"No child I am in good health and position, thank you. Gentleman, will you not bid good day to Lady Viscreed? Master Lamont I do not believed you've seen her for some time." Had it been years since he really paid her a hard look? No more the child coming down the stairs to ask his help, indeed. (d)
Brother Diarmuid O'Corrain
As he had proved scant days ago, Brother Diarmuid was not adverse teaching the lesson of humility through physical means. ...and it had appeared, however briefly, that such a lesson might have befallen Peregrine. Had it not been been for the stern words of Madame St. Laurence. Brother Diarmuid would quietly step back from Peregrine, to take a breath. There was a pleasant smile to the Lady Viscreed, "Good day, milady. Does it find you blessed?" The issue at hand was still in the Brother's mind. Yet he would not voice his thoughts. If they were such as outcast and outlawed, could not one as easily assign blame to 'Lord' Lamont - or, to the good brother's thinking, the Lord of Misrule - for encouraging his subjects to act in such an impious manner? After a few moments, Brother Diarmuid would quietly say to Peregrine, "You asked what it concern it was of mine how the Underdark fared.... I shall tell you what I have told the Lady Viscreed and the Lady Mean. It is my firm belief that long ago, the Lord God and Christ the Savior charged the clergy with not only teach the Gospel of God's love... but to bear it to every man and woman. Despite the brush that you paint with me, sir, it is *my* belief that *no one* is ever outside of God's love....whether they be clergyman or outcast..." (D)
Master Peregrine Lamont
He would heave a heavy breath watching the Brother out of the corner of his eye, but leave it to Pere to find himself so open to the outside world yet suddenly closed away with the sing presence of another. "You can help all you wish Brother, but I leave you this warning and it very clear. It is not of my hands you will die from should you scare the pack. We are not your innocent sheep..but a pack of wolves. For your safety I would not go in too far. Those who need you will come out for it. " With that the pirate eased, "I thank you for your help." His face then lifted to Janice with a smile, "Speaking of Heaven..look at you." His grin then could not be helped as he looked her over--my how she has grown even since Spain. (d
Master Claramae St. Laurence
"This is suitable advice to heed, thank you for offering your opinion m'lord." She gave a nod of head to the matter in the hopes that it would be closed. Diarmuid was a good man, one whom in a short while she would deny nothing to by way of his holiness or good works. Peregrine could be quite the thorn in any fleshy side, but he had long served his purposes and turned in to a creature of honorable repute through his semi-honorable practices. While not meaning to seem well meaning he always was. She sensed inside of him a want to protect what was his in the confusion of trying to find his place beside is comely, courtly wife. She had never been one to defend him in the greater open but in some way she could not help but feel that as Diarmuid tried to figure his place, his vows, he couldn't help but judge them. Had he made the right choice? Yes they needed him, but these were no docile parish sheep. They had claws and in fact were only a docile pack of wolves themselves. She detested the thought of him judging Peregrine, which was somewhat surprising to self, though it didn't manifest on her face.
Lady Janice Viscreed
"Thank you, Master Peregrine," should he desire Lamont she would address him as such, but he had always been Peregrine to her. The Master before his name had taken him quite awhile to get him used to. "How are you, Master Peregrine? Where have you been, somewhere with your shirt on I hope." Jolly little joke. Would she mention the glass of water she doused him with, or the bible she had hit him with in the hilarity of the past? Several little braids were twisted in beautiful pattern while the remainder of her hair was left to hang as it pleased (d)
Master Peregrine Lamont
"I am good Lady Janice." He touched her hip softly before kissing her cheek in their little embrace. He looked down to the thin shirt of what he wore, and spoke softly, "First time I've had it on all season. Its been a good year." Indeed it had. "You look wonderful, come have dinner soon?" He kissed her hand before starting towards the door. "My wife is here somewhere, you will have to excuse me. I have a shirt that is burning my back." He turned a smirk over his shoulder to the Lady Viscreed. "Have a good day, Ladies..Brother, I'll be seeing you in the Underdark." (d
Brother Diarmuid O'Corrain
When God had begun to create those who would populate the world, he had done so with clay. It was this clay, that made both men humble and able to with stand the kiln. And it was a fact that Brother Diarmuid was keenly aware. It was failing to be judgmental, and even the clergy were not without their failings. As Peregrine departed, Brother Diarmuid would say, "Good day to you as well, sir. And go with God's blessing." If the question were to him on the matter of finding his proper place, Brother Diarmuid would unhesitatingly answer that yes -- he had. (D)
Lady Janice Viscreed
"At your pleasure sir, and gladly. Thank you for the invitation. Please tell the Lady Inveryne of my love and greetings for the day, and much i desire her council on a matter of court?" She worried on how the nature of the message would reach Rosalind's ears but the gateway would manifest it for showing in some shape,way, or form. He kissed her hand, her cheeked, a little sign that the years had made them better than auctioneer and auction piece. She watched him go as one watches an elder brother or crazed uncle. (d)
Brother Diarmuid O'Corrain
Oh, Brother Diarmuid felt most assuredly that Peregrine was crazed. There was a smile, as he watched the man go. A quiet shake of his head. Then he would sit before the fire as well, quietly taking up the small creature of fur that once more become interested in his habit. There was something that warmed the brother's heart, in Clarie's purring. (D
The Madame took a stroll through the halls designed to be the monument to all that was magnificent mystery in a world holding its designer and her early twenty years. Could it have been more? The talk of Monroe on the nature of souls, the rumor of the hall was that the Masters were incarnations of beings already moving somewhere ahead in time, for the thoughts, actions, motivations, and even the way in which clothes were worn were above the diseased mythos of the Dark Ages. How could a world in Renaissance be dark? Beyond the cold little island only certain bastions of culture acrewed the knowledge wrought by Templar foundings, so whilst Scotland only now came in to her own as a presence for culture, she was old by way of knowledge. The rest of the world seemed swinging toward a revival of religious zealotry instead of enlightened ideas. All of this thoughts circumnavigated the sphere of the Madame's brain in a sequence akin to a lock being opened for a door to go ajar. For the first time in many days she felt well enough to move without the aid of her cane, able to be herself in the absence of sound from step, clothes, and presence. (d)
Brother Diarmuid O'Corrain
In a hall designed to serve as monument to the glories of the mysterious and the sinister, it seemed somewhat fitting that a dark specter should walk its halls. After all, the undyed robes of a Cistercian would have looked out of sorts when it came to shepherding the souls of those who dwelled within its robes. For while the Ebon Talon contemplated the mysteries and enigmas of the mortal coil, the task often lead to a somber turn of mind and dress. Then truly, it was a sign from God that the Hall was tended to an Augustinian brother clad in black habit. And it was also fitting while he walked, Brother Diarmuid slowly worked the beads of the rosary through his hand as he contemplated the Sorrowful Mysteries. And yet, it seemed as though a somber mood was not for the brother's features. For as he walked, he was distinctly aware that he was not alone. Behind him, there came a young kitten... a black and silver tabby... who even now stalked the trailing cloth of the brother's habit. Pouncing upon it now and again, gently scratching at the black cloth. (D)
Master Claramae St. Laurence
Diarmuid was the way to return to God when all else was god-less. Since his coming there was a certain peace descending in the household that made a palpable calm. Turmoil was absent in many as work was completed with assured conviction of survival. Those sent out of the household had gone with the blessing of a worthy priest, those who remained took of his counsel. Madame Death couldn't be more pleased at the virtuous turn of life entering the hall of magic mirrors. Reflections were schismed, impossible things to discern. Was it truly what it appeared to be? Here, it wasn't always so. She wore no outward expression yet felt a pleasure watching the small object of fur follow the good brother about. "Good day, Brother O'Corrain. What have you, there?" It was a sweet young thing. Gazing down at it from a low railing was a cat of complete black persuasion, the emeralds in his collar identical with the shade of his keeper's dress (d)
Brother Diarmuid O'Corrain
Brother Diarmuid would pause, his quiet reverie broken by the greeting of another. Quietly, he would turn to face the Madame St. Laurence. "Blessed day," Brother Diarmuid said, a smile upon his features. After a moments pause, he asked, "I trust it finds you mending well?" He had noticed that the Madame walked without her cane. Praise be. Behind him, the tabby kitten would crouch down upon its haunches -- for its pray had stopped. The kitten would pounce once more upon the trailing fabric of the habit, setting about it with claws and teeth. "It is but a kitten ... a gift from the Lady Mean." As the kitten grew bored with its conquered prey - what fun was there to be had in stalking it, if it did not move? - would raise its eyes toward the other cat. The kitten would cant its head and mew in curiosity. Where as the lady's black cat had been given a most fitting name, the tabby kitten bore proudly silver 'M' upon its forehead. Said, in the tales of common folk, to be a sign of Mother Mary's favor for quieting a infant Christ. "She is called Clarie." (D)
Master Claramae St. Laurence
"The Ancient Egyptian treasured the feline, seeing it as emblem of wisdom and the afterlife, now they are still very wise, and good companions. I am much improved in health thank you for asking, the healing seems to have taken a better course. It shall only be as it has been, a little harsher, that with more injuries the colder it becomes the more impaired one could be. God will right it, should it see him fit." The little kitten saw mature ebon countenance with tail a'flick, flicking. Large yellow eyes peered down at her as he offered a sign of curiosity back. He leaned over the railing, yet didn't come down. On his throat he wore a collar of gold studded with emeralds and ruby, the cross in the center did his name pair with further irony. "Ah, such a gift most deserving. That is how I acquired that one," Her head canted to the feline sentinel on the railing as she came down. "His name is Mephistopheles, Sisto, for short." The cat was named after a demon who was all but Satan in some folklore. In later times ahead of this he would be that embodiment indeed. "How charming." It was her way of paying homage to the sweet scenario of mutual curiosity. She would settle on stairs edge for a moment, the cat coming to her. "What have you, Sisto. That isn't necessary, Voltaire is too cautious for my sake." She gently slid off the cats pair of gold claws so his entire claw set could comfortably retract, only to slide them in to the piece holding her veil in place. No need for him to unleash the poison in the claw tips on the kitten. Some had guardian dogs. She had a cat. "What business have you today, Brother?" (d)
Brother Diarmuid O'Corrain
There was little doubt that the good brother would arch a brow, as he watched her. As, no doubt, did the kitten. "It is, milady, an interesting name for a creature....." There was a broad smile, "Do his actions truly fit his name?" He observed the golden fashioned claws that were removed and tucked away. That tabby, of course, thought nothing of it. Just another curiosity that saw the kitten slowly draw nearer Sisto, to inspect the ebon dark feline. There was a quiet nod, when the Madame spoke of Christ healing touch. "I am sure that He will... for we are all His children, and it is He that mends our hurts." While modern medicine had indeed advanced most rapidly, it was still touch of God that would close wounds, mend bones, and cool those stricken with fervor. After a moment, he would say, "In truth, milady, I am glad that our paths have met.... for I would wish to speak to you on a matter. And I cannot think of any better to ask, then the Master of the Ebon Talon... although, I would also seek out the advice of the other Masters as well." There would be a moments hesitation, before he said, "Even now, there is a chill in the air....that will only grow more so the seasons continue. I worry for the less fortunate.... " Which was why he and the novices put under his charge, could so often be found in the sparring yard -- thoroughly inspecting donations of clothing. And why so often did he go round to the bread makers at the end of the day, to collect their unsold wares. "And from what I have seen... those who live in the Underdark are truly less fortunate." A hesitation. "And it had come in to my mind, that perhaps it would serve many to build an alms house there...." (D)
Master Peregrine Lamont
The wind swept through the halls with the fresh new scent of the autumn wood, and with it carried the child of the trees who smelled like the sea. Salt water clung to his skin like the rays of the summer sun, it bronzed the flesh and stamped him with the seal of his profession. Though, the year had been in solitude in his forest the habit was hard to kill, and when there was a heart as wild as Peregrine's his time away from society did well to keep him tame. "What is wrong with my Underdark?" Spoke the pirate from the door who never needed to knock, or knew the use of handles for he came in through the windows--or secret passages Claramae told him time and time again to not use.Ocean blue eyes would size the brother over as he walked past him, clothed with little as he could and still remain civil. In my hall Wildman you will remain clothed. The mistress had told him once on his afternoon ventures to surprise his wife wearing only a wrap around his hips. He liked to turn the face of Inveryne red, especially when she was in the midst of a lesson. He laughed hearing the statement of the brother and shook his head, "We survive, Brother. With and without your house. If it gets too cold, we shall catch it a fire hmm? Will burn for weeks if done right." Had he seen the skeleton of buildings already burned? "What reason have you to worry of anything but yourself?" In the time of the Queen's lost being, he took control back...he just didn't tell Rosalind that yet. (d
Master Claramae St. Laurence
"Brother O'Corrain, the Master Peregrine Lamont. In the under-dark you may here them call him the Goblin King, Prince of Mischief, or any other such sundry title he concocted while he was inebriated or surrounded by vagabonds." The introduction was delivered with a hint of dry sarcasm melding in with her disapproval of his entry. He never emerged in doors. Never was he announced by any entity but himself. One day he was going to be stock in the holding blocks because of it, his call of 'Okay I won't,' echoing in the walls. Emeraldine velvet kissed the marble floors as she went to him. "O'Corrain is the Master of Spirituality in the house ,and as such retains practice of his priestly vows. He has done well by your people, seeing them clothed, fed, I think he should seek your advice best on survival as well as his idea's execution, because those who are fed, clothed, and able will be less likely to become even the scourge that gives you problems. Even you do not favor starving children or disenfranchised women. And sweet, my brother.." Not Peregrine, brother? What had that shot done to her settings? "Stop coming in through the secret ways you keep trying to memorize, one day you will get stuck, mark me, and I will have to send in Viscreed to fetch you out." (d)
Brother Diarmuid O'Corrain
Perhaps it was an ill-time moment to jest, but Brother Diarmuid could not refrain from comment, "I think, for that last title, you lack the horns...." Still, there was a touch of a smile, "And good day, to you, sir. Does it find you blessed?" Such was his greeting. Even as he talked, Brother Diarmuid quietly worked the beads of his rosary through his fingers. How best to approach this? Hmm. Gently, he said, "We are all beings made of God's clay, Master Lamont, and as thus we are fallible... " Another moment's pause, he said, "And each day, we struggle between the Heavenly Virtues and the Deadly Sins.... And the sin that we all struggle against, is Pride. For it is the root of the other Sins -- and that which is truly deadly. I do not doubt that those of 'your' Underdark survive.... but is it not a constant a constant struggle to do so?" Brother Diarmuid watched Pere quietly, "It is Pride that whispers in the ear of the beggar, 'Take not this man's charity...for you survive.' And so the beggar does not take the bread offered to him. It is Pride that says, 'Do not take this man's kindness...you survive.' And it is the beggar who refuses warmer clothing, content in his threadbare rags... for he survives." Brother Diarmuid would step closer to Pere, "And it is Pride that says, 'Have I not proved that you need not take another's kindness? For you have survived!' ...as the beggar dies before his time, content that he has survived without the charity of others..." There was a quiet pause, "I have journeyed in to 'your' Underdark before...and I have seen how it is. Many are those who scrape and scrabble for such survival. It is heart rending to me, to see it.... and I do what I may, to see that they need not scrape for such a living. Does it truly grate against you so, that I might venture in to your realm and offer kindness and charity to those most deserving of it?" And, quietly, he said, "I also ask that you mark me clear...." Brother Diarmuid put his hand against the embroidered white Amalfi cross that marked his black habit. "For I am a Knight Hospitaller -.and my service I have faced many threats. Whether they have been the perils of cholera or the fearsome Sacaren warriors.. It is the charge of my order to both provide for and *defend* the poor and the infirm." The stern glance to Pere's eyes warned against testing that tenant of Brother Diarmuid's faith. For not many knew that he was apt to wear a hauberk of mail under his habit, or went about armed into the Underdark when giving alms. And fewer still, who had seen him unhorse a mounted villain with just his hands. (D)
Master Peregrine Lamont
"Mmmm no Brother." He moved like a cat around the man's shoulder with the smirk of the very devil himself, "Us Goblin King's only have one horn, and trust me..its there." His was the type of grin that carried all the way through his eyes of the burning sin that set behind it. In all the glory of the Lamont's work, Peregrine truly meant well. "Lord Lamont, thank you. I rather like being called Lord." He took a seat by the fire, pulling his feet up under him as he would then turn a wink to Claramae, "If that was a threat, then by all means..trap me down there, I shall make the Lady Viscreed a very happy woman with said horn." If Rosalind didn't remove it first. However, the man's terms were quick to still the heart inside his chest as Peregrine would rise again, infuriated clearly the devil did have horns in this matter. "Then let it be known, Knight Hospitaller, that those people there are there because of your kind. They are there suffering because of your God's will to cause them outcast this world. They are poor, but they are happy because they are accepted. It is honorable what you do. Do not get me wrong, I am thankful, but let it be known..you will burn first before any others, is that clear?" He closed the distance between he and the Brother. "Will you defend them against your order? Are you aware of this? All of them down there are outcasts or outlaws?" Including himself. "So you take pity on them all you want, but better be of the Underdark then dead..Brother." (d
Master Claramae St. Laurence
"HOLD the pair of you. We will not have this discourse in the open halls. Both of you are being prideful, too hard on your points. Stop it. The question is simply this: Can it be done, what the brother seeks in the underdark. The answer: it can. Peregrine is appreciative, though brother he is right. This is what you must remember, they will sooner rip you to shreds because of what was done to them by others like you than seek your kindness in the pure spirit of it. Though Lord Lamont will do well to remember that if all clergy were as the brother, why would he be in this house? There is a reason any have come to this house, it is in the same vow of service we all take for end or another. " She lifted her hand before folding it over her own, the train of her gown mild as it trailed behind her, and so too came the black cat. "We are all Masters, and we are all now akin to kin, like it or not. Argue as brothers over some joint subject. We all wear the title of Master here, well bestowed. It is done now. Would I wish to hear such quarrels I would have remained in the English parliament, or have taken habit to resume my duties in this one"
Lady Janice Viscreed
"Madame, is all well?" Came the delicate call from the top of the stairs. Not that one would expect a lack of argument before a gentlewoman (Peregrine had been half naked before her half of her life here on a nightly basis, and she had known the masters to be in worst rows.) "I have come to see if you've a need of anything, I shan't to court yet today. I hope you aren't being taxed." Men were taxing, argumentative, twisted creatures claiming that women were wrong ones. She lifted her skirts and all but skipped down the steps.
Master Claramae St. Laurence
"No child I am in good health and position, thank you. Gentleman, will you not bid good day to Lady Viscreed? Master Lamont I do not believed you've seen her for some time." Had it been years since he really paid her a hard look? No more the child coming down the stairs to ask his help, indeed. (d)
Brother Diarmuid O'Corrain
As he had proved scant days ago, Brother Diarmuid was not adverse teaching the lesson of humility through physical means. ...and it had appeared, however briefly, that such a lesson might have befallen Peregrine. Had it not been been for the stern words of Madame St. Laurence. Brother Diarmuid would quietly step back from Peregrine, to take a breath. There was a pleasant smile to the Lady Viscreed, "Good day, milady. Does it find you blessed?" The issue at hand was still in the Brother's mind. Yet he would not voice his thoughts. If they were such as outcast and outlawed, could not one as easily assign blame to 'Lord' Lamont - or, to the good brother's thinking, the Lord of Misrule - for encouraging his subjects to act in such an impious manner? After a few moments, Brother Diarmuid would quietly say to Peregrine, "You asked what it concern it was of mine how the Underdark fared.... I shall tell you what I have told the Lady Viscreed and the Lady Mean. It is my firm belief that long ago, the Lord God and Christ the Savior charged the clergy with not only teach the Gospel of God's love... but to bear it to every man and woman. Despite the brush that you paint with me, sir, it is *my* belief that *no one* is ever outside of God's love....whether they be clergyman or outcast..." (D)
Master Peregrine Lamont
He would heave a heavy breath watching the Brother out of the corner of his eye, but leave it to Pere to find himself so open to the outside world yet suddenly closed away with the sing presence of another. "You can help all you wish Brother, but I leave you this warning and it very clear. It is not of my hands you will die from should you scare the pack. We are not your innocent sheep..but a pack of wolves. For your safety I would not go in too far. Those who need you will come out for it. " With that the pirate eased, "I thank you for your help." His face then lifted to Janice with a smile, "Speaking of Heaven..look at you." His grin then could not be helped as he looked her over--my how she has grown even since Spain. (d
Master Claramae St. Laurence
"This is suitable advice to heed, thank you for offering your opinion m'lord." She gave a nod of head to the matter in the hopes that it would be closed. Diarmuid was a good man, one whom in a short while she would deny nothing to by way of his holiness or good works. Peregrine could be quite the thorn in any fleshy side, but he had long served his purposes and turned in to a creature of honorable repute through his semi-honorable practices. While not meaning to seem well meaning he always was. She sensed inside of him a want to protect what was his in the confusion of trying to find his place beside is comely, courtly wife. She had never been one to defend him in the greater open but in some way she could not help but feel that as Diarmuid tried to figure his place, his vows, he couldn't help but judge them. Had he made the right choice? Yes they needed him, but these were no docile parish sheep. They had claws and in fact were only a docile pack of wolves themselves. She detested the thought of him judging Peregrine, which was somewhat surprising to self, though it didn't manifest on her face.
Lady Janice Viscreed
"Thank you, Master Peregrine," should he desire Lamont she would address him as such, but he had always been Peregrine to her. The Master before his name had taken him quite awhile to get him used to. "How are you, Master Peregrine? Where have you been, somewhere with your shirt on I hope." Jolly little joke. Would she mention the glass of water she doused him with, or the bible she had hit him with in the hilarity of the past? Several little braids were twisted in beautiful pattern while the remainder of her hair was left to hang as it pleased (d)
Master Peregrine Lamont
"I am good Lady Janice." He touched her hip softly before kissing her cheek in their little embrace. He looked down to the thin shirt of what he wore, and spoke softly, "First time I've had it on all season. Its been a good year." Indeed it had. "You look wonderful, come have dinner soon?" He kissed her hand before starting towards the door. "My wife is here somewhere, you will have to excuse me. I have a shirt that is burning my back." He turned a smirk over his shoulder to the Lady Viscreed. "Have a good day, Ladies..Brother, I'll be seeing you in the Underdark." (d
Brother Diarmuid O'Corrain
When God had begun to create those who would populate the world, he had done so with clay. It was this clay, that made both men humble and able to with stand the kiln. And it was a fact that Brother Diarmuid was keenly aware. It was failing to be judgmental, and even the clergy were not without their failings. As Peregrine departed, Brother Diarmuid would say, "Good day to you as well, sir. And go with God's blessing." If the question were to him on the matter of finding his proper place, Brother Diarmuid would unhesitatingly answer that yes -- he had. (D)
Lady Janice Viscreed
"At your pleasure sir, and gladly. Thank you for the invitation. Please tell the Lady Inveryne of my love and greetings for the day, and much i desire her council on a matter of court?" She worried on how the nature of the message would reach Rosalind's ears but the gateway would manifest it for showing in some shape,way, or form. He kissed her hand, her cheeked, a little sign that the years had made them better than auctioneer and auction piece. She watched him go as one watches an elder brother or crazed uncle. (d)
Brother Diarmuid O'Corrain
Oh, Brother Diarmuid felt most assuredly that Peregrine was crazed. There was a smile, as he watched the man go. A quiet shake of his head. Then he would sit before the fire as well, quietly taking up the small creature of fur that once more become interested in his habit. There was something that warmed the brother's heart, in Clarie's purring. (D