What Mortal Eyes See

[Kender Bard]

Soren was going about his business, as usual. He made his rounds in the section of the library he was assigned to - subjects of death and the like. After tenderly checking for damage and seeing to it that all the books were properly shelved, he headed back towards his room so that he could say a few words of prayer to his two lords.

On the way, however, he was intercepted. He blinked as a fellow priestess walked quickly to intercept him. He'd never seen the woman before, which he found odd - she was certainly a striking character. Her robes were altered, like his, but the secondary emblem was that of an eclipsed sun. He frowned at that; where had he seen that sign before? Often cloistered, Soren was not exactly up on the latest news of their southern neighbors. Furthermore she had shiny black wings, which also was a bit uncommon.

Bowing his head to her he murmured, "Greetings sister."

The woman paused and bobbed her head back before grinning slowly at him. "I was wondering if perhaps you would join me for a glass of wine and a debate, brother."

Tempted, very tempted, Soren nodded. He followed the strange woman out of the library and into the nearby tavern that most of the priests frequented, settling into a booth with her as she voluntarily paid for the drinks. For this, he was glad; he was short on coin. After a momentary wait, she brought the drinks over and set them down deliberately. Soren smiled - the wine was very fine quality and he drank of it eagerly.

While the discussion - one concerning whether or not the secrets of death are best unknown to mortals - started out very provacative and interesting, Soren slowly found himself having difficulty concentrating. Which was odd. He wasn't a lightweight drinker. But even as he noted that it was odd, it was a detached note and his mind began to slip and float on the currents of his inebration. He was barely aware when the lady laughingly slipped his arm around her and she led him out of the bar, joking with a few others on the way out at his expense. He blinked and focused on putting one foot in front of the other, wondering idly what had happened to him but not being of sound mind enough to do anything about it or come to a great conclusion.

"Here we are, let's have you lie down," the woman purred in his ear. She paused outside of a room - glanced around quickly to see that nobody was watching - and ducked inside to drop Soren on something that was hard but yielding enough that he took it for a pallet. Grateful to be supine, Soren closed his eyes. He didn't see the malicious, dark smile that spread over Adelia's face as she knelt and began to draw vials of liquids out of a bag at her feet...

[Darastrix]

The next day, Michael caught sight of Adelia walking with purpose toward the basement stairs. That itself was merely a bit odd. What caught his attention were her robes. With his studies of morality--good and evil, love and hatred, is love always good and hate always evil--he'd learned what he could of the Anarlinans and Morilantans and he recognised the significance of the eclipse on her robes.

A priestess of Evil, he thought, calling to mind their title for his lord: Hoarder of Secrets. But concealing information wasn't evil in and of itself anymore than granting wisdom was an act of good. Either could be done with evil intent, and either could be of benefit.

Pondering, Michael began to follow the priestess, who had already begun down the stairs while he'd distracted himself with his own thoughts.

[Kender Bard]

Adelia was set on her task - she'd ordinarily be much more wary than she was. As it was, she slipped a hand into her robe's pockets and caressed the sheet of paper there, thrill shooting through her. She had to act fast though. The state of things could not last much longer. Soon she'd have to deal with the onerous tasks that always accompanied these brief periods of gleaning information.

She stopped before a room and opened the door, glancing in and smiling most wickedly. "Hello again Soren," she purred, just audible enough to be heard, and slipped inside, the door closing behind her but not shutting completely.

[Darastrix]

Soren? What was he doing down here with her? From the woman's tone, it didn't seem that she was there for a scholarly discussion or debate. Michael paused. What if they were...?

His face flushed slightly at the thought. After the incident with that Thuoth/Soahc priestess' Lustful brother, his fellow priests wouldn't possibly consider getting up to something like that right here in the temple. Would they?

Michael bit his lip and hesitated at the foot of the stairs. If they were going to-- He should probably leave. Quickly. Instead, he moved quietly towards the door, hoping to listen or maybe even get a look. Just a brief one. Yes. Then he could start an essay on the dubious morality of voyeurism. The young priest held his breath and took a peek through the crack.

[Kender Bard]

No lusty scenes met Michael's eye, but rather, a terrible one instead.

Adelia stood over Soren, who had been propped up in a chair and tied to it by his ankles. His wrists were tied behind the chair, arms pulled back at a painful angle. The man's robe clung to him, damp from the sweat that poured off the priest. His hair was wet with it. His head hung, as though he were sleeping, but ragged breaths and the occassional twitch belied what calmness there was to the man.

Adelia grabbed Soren's hair and yanked his head up a bit. Soren's face was blotchy and the sheen of his sweat glistened on his cheeks. His eyes were dark and hollow. She thrust a sheet of paper at him and growled, "Tell me which areas are restricted to higher ranking priests."

Soren swayed in his bonds, struggling to focus. His voice slurred, he began to murmur out the rooms listed on the diagrams and Adelia listened intently before turning to record the information down in an open notebook near at hand.

[Darastrix]

Michael was glad he'd been holding his breath. Otherwise, he might have given himself away by gasping. Thoughts racing, he considered his options. Shouting for help down there would likely only get her attention. She'd picked a good place to do...whatever it was she was doing. He could leave quietly and get help, though who knew what might befall poor Soren in the meantime. Or....

He fingered the sign at his neck lightly and nodded to himself. Judging by her wings, he guessed she was a Wind. It should be easy, in theory. One good bolt ought to knock her out. Pressing his fingers firmly to his sign, the Storm straightened, then pushed the door open quickly with one foot, firing as large a bolt of lightening as he could manage at Adelia.

[Kender Bard]

Luck was not on Michael's side. In fact, it must have been conspiring against him.

Adelia dropped her quill. Just as Michael came into the room, throwing lightning, she'd bent to retrieve it, and the bolt did nothing more than singe her feathers. Gasping, she spun to face Michael. She couldn't easily get to her sign, curse her luck. So she rushed Michael instead, trying to knock him onto his back as she ran full throttle at him.

[Darastrix]

Michael was still standing in the hallway, so rather than bother attempting to brace himself for impact, he darted to the side, out of the doorway. This time, he DID yell for help. At the top of his lungs, and thinking as "loudly" as he could in hopes that there might be a Mind priest near enough to "hear," Michael uttered the one word sure to get the attention of any number of Thuothan priests in a temple or library, "FIRE!"

[Kender Bard]

Adelia staggered, bracing herself on the opposite wall of the hallway. She narrowed her eyes and in her most venomous and hateful voice, she hissed, "You haven't seen the last of me. You'll regret this - right up until the day I destroy you." She brushed her foot against the calf of her other leg, activating her wind sign. In a blur of speed, she darted back inside, scooped up her journal, and then fled down the hallway.

The ceiling seemed to shake as priests came running down as fast as they could, some bearing buckets of water, others readying their signs to combat the most hated enemy of the Thuothians.

The first person on the scene paused and narrowed his eyes. "I don't see smoke or fire," he protested, looking all around.

[Darastrix]

Michael pointed into the room where Soren was bound. "There isn't one. See to him," he said shortly, before raising his voice to call to the swiftly gathering priests.

"A black-winged Morilantan priestess of Evil and Thuoth has been torturing our brother priest here for information! A group needs to watch the stairwell while the rest of us seek her out!"

[Kender Bard]

The priests organized as swiftly as they could. There was some bumbling and confusion, but for the most part, those who had been late in coming to the supposed fire were set to watch the stairwell while the rest spread through the basement to search. A few others stayed by Soren, murmuring amongst themselves as they untied him and tended as best as they could.

Seeing Michael as the temporary figure of authority, after a while of searching, a priest ran over - black feathers in his hands. "I think she got away," he panted. "There was a ceiling window in one room - the kind that are on ground level outside? It was the room farthest back. The window was smashed out, and there was blood and feathers. I'm surprised she managed to get up there and wriggle through, the space was so small."

[Darastrix]

"We should keep looking until we've checked every room down here, just in case," Michael stated. "After that, if she's not been found, then her escaping through that window may be the most logical assumption."

Assumptions were never logical unless one had explored every other possibility, after all.

"Besides," he added, "if the space is that small, there likely should have been some cloth from her robes left behind as well. How is Soren?"

[Kender Bard]

The priest bobbed, scurrying off.

One of the other priests tending to Soren pushed back her hair and sighed. "We can't find the priest in charge of herbology, but the healing water seems to be bringing his fever down. He's been poisoned with something, that's for sure. We found some extract of something in a tube nearby and crushed something or another. It doesn't make much sense to me. While his body might be recovering, he isn't exactly coherent."

"Secrets," Soren whispered. "Secrets, secrets, secrets..."

[Darastrix]

"The Morilantans call our lord 'Hoarder of Secrets,'" Michael murmured, lightly laying the back of his hand against Soren's forehead. "And when I found them, she was asking him what rooms of the temple are restricted to the higher-ranking priests."

He paused. "The priests that are allowed in those places should probably watch those areas, too."

[Kender Bard]

The woman nodded, going to one of those guarding the stairs and sending them off to add that to the report already being given to the higher ranking priests.

Soren blinked at Michael, his eyes dilated and staring far away. His fever was indeed coming down, but he was still warm. He reached out, suddenly grabbing Michael's sleeve. "Secrets, I see them. So many secrets. All in our hands. Ha. Ha ha.. Ahhahahaha!" His cackling devolved into a cough and he let go of Michael.