The Reverend
Established
Roleplay posts: 11 
Age: 77
Appearance: Standing at 5’10 and weighing about 160 pounds, the Reverend is far from physically imposing. His skin is tanned and leathery and he has a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. His eyes are gray in color and his hair is white. Most of the time he wears a rather plain brown hooded robe, but for ceremonies the outfit he wears in the profile picture is accurate.
---------------------------------------------------------
Equipment: The holy book of Ardorism, which is a very hefty tome that is gold wrapped and crafted out of the finest materials and enchanted with holy magic. Several ceremonial daggers made out of a variety of precious metals and materials. A pair of glasses that assist the user in detecting the presence of magic. An exceptionally tall ceremonial hat with matching pauldrons that are guided in gold, they are also enchanted.
---------------------------------------------------------
Biography: Known in the Balaton Kingdom as Archbishop Womodious, he presided over The Faithful while also offering his council to Prince Lylok, the young, presumptive ruler of Lower Pannonia. He had instructed Lylok since the tender age of 5, doing all he could to instill the values of a good leader into the lad.
However, Lylok wasn’t the only child he was raising. Several years prior to his appointment at the cathedral, The Reverend found an orphan left on his doorstep. While he could have simply sent them to the orphanage, he took this as a sign from God and chose to raise the child as his own. Naming her Zasha, after a famous Saint known for her patience, grace, and gentleness, she was brought up with the tenets of the church all around her, but Womodious did his best to never push her too hard to accept them all. Forcing the tenet’s of Adorism on someone who wasn’t willing went against all of Womodious’s beliefs.
Zasha and Lylok were similar in age, yet came from starkly different worlds. Through their mutual father figure, they had many interactions. Both learning different lessons from the other as a rivalry of sorts formed between them. Lylok succeeded in areas of the mind and wit, while Zasha routinely trounced her brother in the play yard, and always finished her chores first.
And then, the Holy Rain came. On the day of Lylok’s 30th birthday, at this point a beloved and just ruler. Womdious and Zasha were traveling back on a boat from missionary work and had just docked at the port as disaster struck. Immense amounts of rain, the likes they had never seen before fell, and the ocean came alive as if possessed by some demonic force.
Womodious didn’t know how he managed to clamber aboard the HMS Agamemnon, but took this miracle as a sign from God that he still had work to do in this life. With the nation of Balaton destroyed, he cast aside his previous title and his name, stating he was now solely “The Reverend”. He had lost Lylok, but he still had Zasha, and together, he wished for them to start fresh elsewhere. He planned to do all he could to keep Ardorism alive in what was left of this watery grave of a world.
Registered: Mar 20, 2021 18:26:03 GMT -5
|
Post by The Reverend on Apr 11, 2021 13:59:33 GMT -5
 Sitting on a wooden base made from some of the smaller ships they dismantled for materials, the Reverend’s tent is one of the largest currently set up in Pannoa. Located in the middle of the settlement, it is constantly busy and frequently has a line outside it as people clamor to speak to the Reverend about various topics. The inside of the tent is spacious and has several rugs on the floor along with a number of chairs for those visiting to sit in. The reverend himself can usually be found sitting behind a plain oaken desk that is regularly cluttered by various reports and other forms. Off to the side sits a mattress, although how the Reverend ever manages to find the time to sleep is somewhat of a mystery. |
|
Csilla Kato
Established
Roleplay posts: 46 
Age: 22
Appearance: Coming from humble beginnings, Csilla dresses simply in the fashion of the settlement of Pannoa. In spite of her ordinary upbringing, she carries herself with feminine grace while never being too dainty to carry out hard chores, at least normally. While not considered the most beautiful woman in the world, she is still noteworthy in terms of beauty.
Due to illness, her skin has grown pale, her lips and around her eyes have a blueish tint, and she's become thinner. She still has plenty of awareness and intelligence in her eyes however.
Equipment: Embroidery hoop
Sewing needles
pins
Threads of multiple colors
Mint based medicine
Skills and Abilities: Thread Spinning
Weaving
Sewing/tailoring
Embroidery
Contagious: Though the chances of being infected with her illness are low for healthy individuals, those with compromised immune systems are more vulnerable.
Biography: Csilla's family had been among the lucky ones to get onto the boat that saved their lives from the flood, but among the unlucky ones that did not make it to landfall. After the strenuous months at sea, an illness claimed each family member one by one. With no medicine to cure the along with the harsh conditions of the ship, Csilla arrived to the Isles alone.
The illness that ravaged her family has taken root in her as well, and has weakened her considerably. With no cure among them all they can offer is sympathy and comfort, and all she can offer in return is quiet busywork. With the time she has left she has been spending it praying or mending clothes,sails and other cloth based necessities that have been torn. Whenever she is not overburdened by work or her illness, she will take a stroll along the coast.
Registered: Apr 10, 2021 9:23:26 GMT -5
|
Post by Csilla Kato on Apr 11, 2021 15:23:46 GMT -5
A line of people looked to get an audience with the ever busy Reverend, and Csilla had been among them., though she had been given the courtesy of a seat given her condition. It would have been too toiling on her to have her stand in line with the rest when nowadays her energy seemed to escape her so quickly. It hadn't always been this way, she used to be sturdy, vibrant, lively, but ever since her family had passed on the ships, she herself had gradually began to wither away just like they had. Some had hoped that once they reached landfall her condition might improve, but so far she'd only gotten worse. Thankfully she still had the will and quiet energy to sew and make repairs on their sails and tents, where she could at least be useful for the time she might have left.
Csilla had never given up hope that there might be a remedy or treatment. She intended to endure for as long as her body could carry her so wait for a solution. She prayed for their god to help, as she did so now while waiting for the Reverend to have a moment.
Her eyes were closed in a meditative state while she fiddled with the religious symbol she held in her hands as a tool of comfort. Her thumbs ran over the last token of her mother she'd been able to keep. With it there she could swear she felt her mother's spirit watching over her, no doubt wanting to see her well, too.
|
|
The Reverend
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: 77
Appearance: Standing at 5’10 and weighing about 160 pounds, the Reverend is far from physically imposing. His skin is tanned and leathery and he has a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. His eyes are gray in color and his hair is white. Most of the time he wears a rather plain brown hooded robe, but for ceremonies the outfit he wears in the profile picture is accurate.
---------------------------------------------------------
Equipment: The holy book of Ardorism, which is a very hefty tome that is gold wrapped and crafted out of the finest materials and enchanted with holy magic. Several ceremonial daggers made out of a variety of precious metals and materials. A pair of glasses that assist the user in detecting the presence of magic. An exceptionally tall ceremonial hat with matching pauldrons that are guided in gold, they are also enchanted.
---------------------------------------------------------
Biography: Known in the Balaton Kingdom as Archbishop Womodious, he presided over The Faithful while also offering his council to Prince Lylok, the young, presumptive ruler of Lower Pannonia. He had instructed Lylok since the tender age of 5, doing all he could to instill the values of a good leader into the lad.
However, Lylok wasn’t the only child he was raising. Several years prior to his appointment at the cathedral, The Reverend found an orphan left on his doorstep. While he could have simply sent them to the orphanage, he took this as a sign from God and chose to raise the child as his own. Naming her Zasha, after a famous Saint known for her patience, grace, and gentleness, she was brought up with the tenets of the church all around her, but Womodious did his best to never push her too hard to accept them all. Forcing the tenet’s of Adorism on someone who wasn’t willing went against all of Womodious’s beliefs.
Zasha and Lylok were similar in age, yet came from starkly different worlds. Through their mutual father figure, they had many interactions. Both learning different lessons from the other as a rivalry of sorts formed between them. Lylok succeeded in areas of the mind and wit, while Zasha routinely trounced her brother in the play yard, and always finished her chores first.
And then, the Holy Rain came. On the day of Lylok’s 30th birthday, at this point a beloved and just ruler. Womdious and Zasha were traveling back on a boat from missionary work and had just docked at the port as disaster struck. Immense amounts of rain, the likes they had never seen before fell, and the ocean came alive as if possessed by some demonic force.
Womodious didn’t know how he managed to clamber aboard the HMS Agamemnon, but took this miracle as a sign from God that he still had work to do in this life. With the nation of Balaton destroyed, he cast aside his previous title and his name, stating he was now solely “The Reverend”. He had lost Lylok, but he still had Zasha, and together, he wished for them to start fresh elsewhere. He planned to do all he could to keep Ardorism alive in what was left of this watery grave of a world.
Registered: Mar 20, 2021 18:26:03 GMT -5
|
Post by The Reverend on Apr 13, 2021 7:08:45 GMT -5
The line moved at a steady pace and within the hour, Csilla would find it was her own turn to enter the Reverend’s tent. Given her condition, one of the Reverend’s attendants offered her a hand to help walk her up the steps of the tent and lead her into its rather spacious interior. Looking up as she entered, the Reverend offered her a strained smile as she was escorted to a chair in front of his desk.
“Welcome, Csilla. What can I do for you on this day?” His tone was warm and welcoming, but the old man’s features belied a deep weariness. It was rather clear he had been running himself ragged these past two weeks during the camp’s setup. “Please, take a cup of tea, you must be needing some refreshment after waiting in line for so long.”
Quickly strolling over, one of the attendants brought over a cup already filled with tea. While not piping hot, it was still warm and smelled of apples, cranberry, and hibiscus.
While the Reverend didn’t know everyone's name, this girl stuck out in his mind. After all, he had put several of her family members to rest after they had passed away on the ships. It was a tragedy and he felt truly sorry that he hadn’t been able to offer proper treatment to them. He had asked what he could do for her, but he already had a feeling he knew what she would be asking for...
|
|
Csilla Kato
Established
Roleplay posts: 46
Age: 22
Appearance: Coming from humble beginnings, Csilla dresses simply in the fashion of the settlement of Pannoa. In spite of her ordinary upbringing, she carries herself with feminine grace while never being too dainty to carry out hard chores, at least normally. While not considered the most beautiful woman in the world, she is still noteworthy in terms of beauty.
Due to illness, her skin has grown pale, her lips and around her eyes have a blueish tint, and she's become thinner. She still has plenty of awareness and intelligence in her eyes however.
Equipment: Embroidery hoop
Sewing needles
pins
Threads of multiple colors
Mint based medicine
Skills and Abilities: Thread Spinning
Weaving
Sewing/tailoring
Embroidery
Contagious: Though the chances of being infected with her illness are low for healthy individuals, those with compromised immune systems are more vulnerable.
Biography: Csilla's family had been among the lucky ones to get onto the boat that saved their lives from the flood, but among the unlucky ones that did not make it to landfall. After the strenuous months at sea, an illness claimed each family member one by one. With no medicine to cure the along with the harsh conditions of the ship, Csilla arrived to the Isles alone.
The illness that ravaged her family has taken root in her as well, and has weakened her considerably. With no cure among them all they can offer is sympathy and comfort, and all she can offer in return is quiet busywork. With the time she has left she has been spending it praying or mending clothes,sails and other cloth based necessities that have been torn. Whenever she is not overburdened by work or her illness, she will take a stroll along the coast.
Registered: Apr 10, 2021 9:23:26 GMT -5
|
Post by Csilla Kato on Apr 13, 2021 21:17:01 GMT -5
Csilla had tiredly opened her eyes as the attendant came to fetch her once it came her turn. She nodded in appreciation for the kindness that came with helping her up the steps, though despite it her breath still labored to keep up. Her cough was suppressed inwards, not wanting to make a scene in public with so many eyes pitying her. She wanted to retain some dignity, but it was getting increasingly more difficult the more haggard she felt.
The woman sat down in the seat offered by the Reverend himself. While him knowing her name could have been expected, she still felt honored he remembered her. With no family left, and depending on where her illness would take her, he might be the only one who would even just in passing. His strained smile was met with her own. "Thank you, Reverend." Csilla said and accepted the warm drink offered. There was no rush in the way she drank the fragrant and tart tea she'd been given, the little luxury they still had in this forgotten place. Once her throat was in better shape to talk, she inhaled and finally decided to be out with her concerns.
"Reverend, it was two weeks ago since we've found land. I know you've toiled, and all of us are grateful that you have been there to guide us. I'm sure you hear it often. It was two weeks ago I was told to hold onto hope that I would get better, that maybe we would find a cure on this island." There was a pause in silence as her eyes lowered down to the cup of tea once again taking note of the red color of the liquid. She took the time to drink some more, perhaps giving the Reverend time to think about how he'd want to answer her.
"I've not gotten better as we both know. I've also received nary a word on a cure or treatment either. I don't ask you do more, I only ask you be honest with me, is there anything that can be done? Will god be taking me too?" While she had a feeling on the answer, there was a dance between hope and hopelessness when she wanted to live, and yet knowing that doing so might condemn her to loneliness without family. Others had helped where they could, but it wasn't the same when the grief was still so fresh.
|
|
The Reverend
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: 77
Appearance: Standing at 5’10 and weighing about 160 pounds, the Reverend is far from physically imposing. His skin is tanned and leathery and he has a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. His eyes are gray in color and his hair is white. Most of the time he wears a rather plain brown hooded robe, but for ceremonies the outfit he wears in the profile picture is accurate.
---------------------------------------------------------
Equipment: The holy book of Ardorism, which is a very hefty tome that is gold wrapped and crafted out of the finest materials and enchanted with holy magic. Several ceremonial daggers made out of a variety of precious metals and materials. A pair of glasses that assist the user in detecting the presence of magic. An exceptionally tall ceremonial hat with matching pauldrons that are guided in gold, they are also enchanted.
---------------------------------------------------------
Biography: Known in the Balaton Kingdom as Archbishop Womodious, he presided over The Faithful while also offering his council to Prince Lylok, the young, presumptive ruler of Lower Pannonia. He had instructed Lylok since the tender age of 5, doing all he could to instill the values of a good leader into the lad.
However, Lylok wasn’t the only child he was raising. Several years prior to his appointment at the cathedral, The Reverend found an orphan left on his doorstep. While he could have simply sent them to the orphanage, he took this as a sign from God and chose to raise the child as his own. Naming her Zasha, after a famous Saint known for her patience, grace, and gentleness, she was brought up with the tenets of the church all around her, but Womodious did his best to never push her too hard to accept them all. Forcing the tenet’s of Adorism on someone who wasn’t willing went against all of Womodious’s beliefs.
Zasha and Lylok were similar in age, yet came from starkly different worlds. Through their mutual father figure, they had many interactions. Both learning different lessons from the other as a rivalry of sorts formed between them. Lylok succeeded in areas of the mind and wit, while Zasha routinely trounced her brother in the play yard, and always finished her chores first.
And then, the Holy Rain came. On the day of Lylok’s 30th birthday, at this point a beloved and just ruler. Womdious and Zasha were traveling back on a boat from missionary work and had just docked at the port as disaster struck. Immense amounts of rain, the likes they had never seen before fell, and the ocean came alive as if possessed by some demonic force.
Womodious didn’t know how he managed to clamber aboard the HMS Agamemnon, but took this miracle as a sign from God that he still had work to do in this life. With the nation of Balaton destroyed, he cast aside his previous title and his name, stating he was now solely “The Reverend”. He had lost Lylok, but he still had Zasha, and together, he wished for them to start fresh elsewhere. He planned to do all he could to keep Ardorism alive in what was left of this watery grave of a world.
Registered: Mar 20, 2021 18:26:03 GMT -5
|
Post by The Reverend on Apr 14, 2021 15:26:48 GMT -5
The Reverend listened in silence as Csilla spoke, not wanting to interrupt or rush the poor girl as she told her story. He offered the occasional inclination of his head in acknowledgement and a murmur of thanks when she thanked him for his toil, but otherwise sat still as a statue.
She wanted to know if God would be taking her? Which was crueler, to give her a sliver of hope or to simply crush it and let her accept her circumstances? There was still a sliver of a chance, but to present that as something likely to happen… He wouldn’t do that to Csilla. No, it was more merciful to let her know the truth. There was a long pause after Csilla finished speaking before the Reverend took a long sip from his own cup of tea and cleared his throat.
“I will be honest with you Csilla, because honesty is the best I can offer you at this moment. I don’t know when God will be taking you from us, none but God knows that, but in our time on this island…” Letting out a sigh, the Reverend sadly shook his head. “We haven’t had any luck in finding familiar plant life we could make a medicine to help you with. Believe me when I say we have been searching for ways to help you and the many others who are sick, but we simply haven’t found anything yet. However!”
The Reverend seemed to suddenly be more invigorated as he raised one index finger up, his face shedding years of age off it in a moment. He was sitting up straighter in his chair and his voice now commanded the attention of all within earshot.
“Do not give up hope, my child. Soon we will be having our first ceremony in this new land. Do all you can to live till then and I will petition God for your well-being and all the other sick in the settlement! It would be easier to give up, but I have faith in you Csilla! You were the only one in your family to make it to this new land alive and I don’t believe our Lord would have allowed that if he didn’t have further plans for you.”
As he finished speaking, the Reverend seemed to deflate slightly but there was still a certain spark to his eye that hadn’t been there when Csilla had first entered the tent.
|
|
Csilla Kato
Established
Roleplay posts: 46
Age: 22
Appearance: Coming from humble beginnings, Csilla dresses simply in the fashion of the settlement of Pannoa. In spite of her ordinary upbringing, she carries herself with feminine grace while never being too dainty to carry out hard chores, at least normally. While not considered the most beautiful woman in the world, she is still noteworthy in terms of beauty.
Due to illness, her skin has grown pale, her lips and around her eyes have a blueish tint, and she's become thinner. She still has plenty of awareness and intelligence in her eyes however.
Equipment: Embroidery hoop
Sewing needles
pins
Threads of multiple colors
Mint based medicine
Skills and Abilities: Thread Spinning
Weaving
Sewing/tailoring
Embroidery
Contagious: Though the chances of being infected with her illness are low for healthy individuals, those with compromised immune systems are more vulnerable.
Biography: Csilla's family had been among the lucky ones to get onto the boat that saved their lives from the flood, but among the unlucky ones that did not make it to landfall. After the strenuous months at sea, an illness claimed each family member one by one. With no medicine to cure the along with the harsh conditions of the ship, Csilla arrived to the Isles alone.
The illness that ravaged her family has taken root in her as well, and has weakened her considerably. With no cure among them all they can offer is sympathy and comfort, and all she can offer in return is quiet busywork. With the time she has left she has been spending it praying or mending clothes,sails and other cloth based necessities that have been torn. Whenever she is not overburdened by work or her illness, she will take a stroll along the coast.
Registered: Apr 10, 2021 9:23:26 GMT -5
|
Post by Csilla Kato on Apr 14, 2021 20:51:49 GMT -5
The Reverend gave Csilla about the news she expected. There was no treatment for her yet, nor the other sick ones she'd come to know. Some she wished she'd met before the waters had taken them, and certainly before she'd gotten so sick herself. While many would have cried, or gotten angry at their low odds Csilla smiled with a sort of acceptance. He chose not to lie to her, even if a lie would have been comforting to hear in the moment. His honesty made her respect him all that more.
The shift in the older man's energy startled the sick patient slightly, and the excitement had her suppress her cough once again with some tea while she waited for him to clarify. He mentioned a ceremony, something she was familiar with, but his mention of god's plans for her... well, she couldn't help but have some doubts.
"Or perhaps, God called to him my family so they could wait for me." She said softly. While not wanting to discourage the reverend's determination, she wanted to make her wishes clear shouldn't she be fated to die.
"I will do what I can to live well till then, but Reverend, I know my usefulness will be short lived soon. I rather not take away the precious few provisions the people have to extend a doomed existence. I know this request is unorthodox, but... Should my condition only worsen, pray use my life for the ceremony. I have no one left for me here, but others still do. I will gladly sacrifice myself for the blessing of everyone who still live on. That would give me the most peace."
|
|
The Reverend
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: 77
Appearance: Standing at 5’10 and weighing about 160 pounds, the Reverend is far from physically imposing. His skin is tanned and leathery and he has a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. His eyes are gray in color and his hair is white. Most of the time he wears a rather plain brown hooded robe, but for ceremonies the outfit he wears in the profile picture is accurate.
---------------------------------------------------------
Equipment: The holy book of Ardorism, which is a very hefty tome that is gold wrapped and crafted out of the finest materials and enchanted with holy magic. Several ceremonial daggers made out of a variety of precious metals and materials. A pair of glasses that assist the user in detecting the presence of magic. An exceptionally tall ceremonial hat with matching pauldrons that are guided in gold, they are also enchanted.
---------------------------------------------------------
Biography: Known in the Balaton Kingdom as Archbishop Womodious, he presided over The Faithful while also offering his council to Prince Lylok, the young, presumptive ruler of Lower Pannonia. He had instructed Lylok since the tender age of 5, doing all he could to instill the values of a good leader into the lad.
However, Lylok wasn’t the only child he was raising. Several years prior to his appointment at the cathedral, The Reverend found an orphan left on his doorstep. While he could have simply sent them to the orphanage, he took this as a sign from God and chose to raise the child as his own. Naming her Zasha, after a famous Saint known for her patience, grace, and gentleness, she was brought up with the tenets of the church all around her, but Womodious did his best to never push her too hard to accept them all. Forcing the tenet’s of Adorism on someone who wasn’t willing went against all of Womodious’s beliefs.
Zasha and Lylok were similar in age, yet came from starkly different worlds. Through their mutual father figure, they had many interactions. Both learning different lessons from the other as a rivalry of sorts formed between them. Lylok succeeded in areas of the mind and wit, while Zasha routinely trounced her brother in the play yard, and always finished her chores first.
And then, the Holy Rain came. On the day of Lylok’s 30th birthday, at this point a beloved and just ruler. Womdious and Zasha were traveling back on a boat from missionary work and had just docked at the port as disaster struck. Immense amounts of rain, the likes they had never seen before fell, and the ocean came alive as if possessed by some demonic force.
Womodious didn’t know how he managed to clamber aboard the HMS Agamemnon, but took this miracle as a sign from God that he still had work to do in this life. With the nation of Balaton destroyed, he cast aside his previous title and his name, stating he was now solely “The Reverend”. He had lost Lylok, but he still had Zasha, and together, he wished for them to start fresh elsewhere. He planned to do all he could to keep Ardorism alive in what was left of this watery grave of a world.
Registered: Mar 20, 2021 18:26:03 GMT -5
|
Post by The Reverend on Apr 16, 2021 19:08:15 GMT -5
Listening to her request with a melancholy look on his face, the Reverend took another sip of his tea as he considered her words. It seemed clear to him the girl had already accepted her fate, a fate that she believed was a swift death. He didn’t wish to accept it, but what the girl said held some truth to it…
“I shall pray about this matter and consider your proposal. While what you say may be true, I am unwilling to simply accept that as your fate until I have spoken to the Lord about it. In the meantime, I will make sure you have someone sent to check in on you and that you are given one of the more comfortable tents.”
Scribbling something down on a scrap of parchment, the Reverend handed it to one of the aids with a few whispered words. The man nodded and quickly hurried from the tent leaving Csilla now alone with the Reverend.
“I will let you know within the week what my decision will be. Until then, I can only wish you can fully take in the simple pleasures of life. Take this, it should help ease your sickness.”
Reaching into his robe, the Reverend pulled out a small vial of a dark ruby red colored liquid. Placing it on his desk, he slid it across to Csilla, motioning for her to take it.
“Two drops of this before bed each night should help ease your pain.”
|
|
Csilla Kato
Established
Roleplay posts: 46
Age: 22
Appearance: Coming from humble beginnings, Csilla dresses simply in the fashion of the settlement of Pannoa. In spite of her ordinary upbringing, she carries herself with feminine grace while never being too dainty to carry out hard chores, at least normally. While not considered the most beautiful woman in the world, she is still noteworthy in terms of beauty.
Due to illness, her skin has grown pale, her lips and around her eyes have a blueish tint, and she's become thinner. She still has plenty of awareness and intelligence in her eyes however.
Equipment: Embroidery hoop
Sewing needles
pins
Threads of multiple colors
Mint based medicine
Skills and Abilities: Thread Spinning
Weaving
Sewing/tailoring
Embroidery
Contagious: Though the chances of being infected with her illness are low for healthy individuals, those with compromised immune systems are more vulnerable.
Biography: Csilla's family had been among the lucky ones to get onto the boat that saved their lives from the flood, but among the unlucky ones that did not make it to landfall. After the strenuous months at sea, an illness claimed each family member one by one. With no medicine to cure the along with the harsh conditions of the ship, Csilla arrived to the Isles alone.
The illness that ravaged her family has taken root in her as well, and has weakened her considerably. With no cure among them all they can offer is sympathy and comfort, and all she can offer in return is quiet busywork. With the time she has left she has been spending it praying or mending clothes,sails and other cloth based necessities that have been torn. Whenever she is not overburdened by work or her illness, she will take a stroll along the coast.
Registered: Apr 10, 2021 9:23:26 GMT -5
|
Post by Csilla Kato on Apr 17, 2021 7:42:42 GMT -5
Csilla's eyes lowered down to the floorboards of the tent as the Reverend said he'd have to commune with their god. She understood it was his way of buying her some imaginary time before he'd have to make the call. Maybe he wanted to see if the next week would get better, but as it stood with no cure yet found, her odds weren't looking good either way, and a week would not be enough, not when the disease had already rooted so deeply in her lungs. He was kind enough to offer her some more comfortable accommodations, as comfortable as a tent could be anyway.
The sickly woman looked up once again at the now melancholic man who even now was trying his hardest to look out for her. "Thank you, you're too kind. Remember to take care of yourself; too many people here need you. If you do happen to speak with the Lord, let me know what he says. His plan I will follow."
While she had thought their meeting over, she had grasped the arms of her seat to push herself up, but stopped herself when the older man had reached into his robe and pulled out the vial of peculiar dark liquid. It didn't look like the mint medicine she'd been using to this point, and otherwise seemed unfamiliar with this. As he'd urged her to take it, she did, turning it over in her hand looking for any indication what it might be. His instructions made it clear it was some kind of painkiller, but otherwise remained a mystery.
"What is this? You're not giving me something that you need, are you?"
|
|
The Reverend
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: 77
Appearance: Standing at 5’10 and weighing about 160 pounds, the Reverend is far from physically imposing. His skin is tanned and leathery and he has a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. His eyes are gray in color and his hair is white. Most of the time he wears a rather plain brown hooded robe, but for ceremonies the outfit he wears in the profile picture is accurate.
---------------------------------------------------------
Equipment: The holy book of Ardorism, which is a very hefty tome that is gold wrapped and crafted out of the finest materials and enchanted with holy magic. Several ceremonial daggers made out of a variety of precious metals and materials. A pair of glasses that assist the user in detecting the presence of magic. An exceptionally tall ceremonial hat with matching pauldrons that are guided in gold, they are also enchanted.
---------------------------------------------------------
Biography: Known in the Balaton Kingdom as Archbishop Womodious, he presided over The Faithful while also offering his council to Prince Lylok, the young, presumptive ruler of Lower Pannonia. He had instructed Lylok since the tender age of 5, doing all he could to instill the values of a good leader into the lad.
However, Lylok wasn’t the only child he was raising. Several years prior to his appointment at the cathedral, The Reverend found an orphan left on his doorstep. While he could have simply sent them to the orphanage, he took this as a sign from God and chose to raise the child as his own. Naming her Zasha, after a famous Saint known for her patience, grace, and gentleness, she was brought up with the tenets of the church all around her, but Womodious did his best to never push her too hard to accept them all. Forcing the tenet’s of Adorism on someone who wasn’t willing went against all of Womodious’s beliefs.
Zasha and Lylok were similar in age, yet came from starkly different worlds. Through their mutual father figure, they had many interactions. Both learning different lessons from the other as a rivalry of sorts formed between them. Lylok succeeded in areas of the mind and wit, while Zasha routinely trounced her brother in the play yard, and always finished her chores first.
And then, the Holy Rain came. On the day of Lylok’s 30th birthday, at this point a beloved and just ruler. Womdious and Zasha were traveling back on a boat from missionary work and had just docked at the port as disaster struck. Immense amounts of rain, the likes they had never seen before fell, and the ocean came alive as if possessed by some demonic force.
Womodious didn’t know how he managed to clamber aboard the HMS Agamemnon, but took this miracle as a sign from God that he still had work to do in this life. With the nation of Balaton destroyed, he cast aside his previous title and his name, stating he was now solely “The Reverend”. He had lost Lylok, but he still had Zasha, and together, he wished for them to start fresh elsewhere. He planned to do all he could to keep Ardorism alive in what was left of this watery grave of a world.
Registered: Mar 20, 2021 18:26:03 GMT -5
|
Post by The Reverend on Apr 20, 2021 7:36:41 GMT -5
For the first time in their meeting, the Reverend offered a smile that seemed free of any worry. It was like a ray of sunshine had pierced the clouds that lingered over their previous conversation.
“The Lord will look out for my health, please don’t worry about me in regards to that. As long as I am needed I shall live. And the moment he answers me, you shall know. You have my word on this.”
Watching her timidness at accepting the vial, the Reverend let out a good-natured chuckle at her questioning if he would need it. Shaking his head from side to side, he finally calmed himself down enough to answer.
“No, I have no need for that particular medicine. It is simply something I carry for medical treatment, but I think of all the people in the camp, you are the one who needs it most at this moment. Even if something comes up, I have a few vials left to give others for treatment.”
Standing up from his seat, the Reverend walked stiffly to the tent flap, opening it up partially and speaking briefly with one of the attendants outside. Turning back to Csilla, he offered his arm to her to help her rise from the chair.
“One of my attendants will escort you to your new tent. If you have any things that need to be moved there, just let them know and they shall bring them to you.”
|
|
Csilla Kato
Established
Roleplay posts: 46
Age: 22
Appearance: Coming from humble beginnings, Csilla dresses simply in the fashion of the settlement of Pannoa. In spite of her ordinary upbringing, she carries herself with feminine grace while never being too dainty to carry out hard chores, at least normally. While not considered the most beautiful woman in the world, she is still noteworthy in terms of beauty.
Due to illness, her skin has grown pale, her lips and around her eyes have a blueish tint, and she's become thinner. She still has plenty of awareness and intelligence in her eyes however.
Equipment: Embroidery hoop
Sewing needles
pins
Threads of multiple colors
Mint based medicine
Skills and Abilities: Thread Spinning
Weaving
Sewing/tailoring
Embroidery
Contagious: Though the chances of being infected with her illness are low for healthy individuals, those with compromised immune systems are more vulnerable.
Biography: Csilla's family had been among the lucky ones to get onto the boat that saved their lives from the flood, but among the unlucky ones that did not make it to landfall. After the strenuous months at sea, an illness claimed each family member one by one. With no medicine to cure the along with the harsh conditions of the ship, Csilla arrived to the Isles alone.
The illness that ravaged her family has taken root in her as well, and has weakened her considerably. With no cure among them all they can offer is sympathy and comfort, and all she can offer in return is quiet busywork. With the time she has left she has been spending it praying or mending clothes,sails and other cloth based necessities that have been torn. Whenever she is not overburdened by work or her illness, she will take a stroll along the coast.
Registered: Apr 10, 2021 9:23:26 GMT -5
|
Post by Csilla Kato on Apr 24, 2021 19:11:12 GMT -5
Csilla seemed a bit more reassured when the Reverend confirmed this medicine wasn't for himself. He seemed genuine in the moment, and without any evidence to the contrary, she could only take his word for it. She grasped the vial to her chest for a moment before slipping it away on her person. As the Reverend walked over to the entry flap of the tent, her eyes followed him for a moment until they lowered towards the floorboards. There was a moment she was lost in her thoughts before the leader of the new settlement offered his arm to help her up. All she could give him in return for all his kindness was a warm smile and with his help, she was able to stand up back on her feet.
"Thank you for everything. Take care of yourself."
Once she was handed off to the attendant, she didn't delay her departure. the Reverend was still a busy man and no doubt had plenty to do before the day was done. Quietly, she left and though she relied a bit on the attendant's help to stay upright at points, she tried her best to walk with some dignity so as to not attract pity her way.
|
|
Khepri Goldenfeather
Committed
Roleplay posts: 96
Appearance: Smattered in golden feathers, Khepri glimmers from dawn to dusk. Vast, dark wings, lightening to ivory toward her spine, spread outward above her broad hips, supporting an otherwise petite frame. Black hair, straight as a waterfall, surrounds a round face. She has sharp, dangerous eyes that mimic the time of day, plump lips that tell you what you want to hear, and honey-sweet skin to ease her features. The only interruption to an otherwise heavenly visage is a pair of feet with toes and a heel ending in talons.
_______________________________________________________
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 19:54:50 GMT -5
|
Post by Khepri Goldenfeather on May 14, 2021 14:06:43 GMT -5
They'd been received far better than Khepri could have hoped. She swooped down ahead of her companions, landing in front of several people at the entrance. She explained herself thoroughly before Faisine and Anatolius arrived, and when they did, they were all escorted here, to the Reverend's tent. The duralam closed her wings around her shoulders, the tips skirting against the ground, as they approached the old man. She did not like human dwellings: not enough space for her to stretch. To make herself this small for everyone to be comfortable was soon to make her muscles ache.
Unsure of their customs, Khepri greeted him with one of her own, asking for his hand to touch her forehead while she bowed.
"Greetings. I am Khepri," she began before extending a hand to her company so they could greet the reverend next.
|
|
Faisine D'Arcy
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 101
Appearance: Hair: Blonde, almost a white blonde
Eyes: Piercing blue
Height: 5'2"
Build: Slender
Features: Noble
Age: 24
Equipment: Eating Dagger
The clothing on her back
Staff
Citole
Rope
Grappling Hook
Tent
Utilities such as pots and pans, other dishes
Skills and Abilities: She is a singer, with a very lovely voice. She was trained as a spellsong but she does that no more.
Biography: History: Lady Faisine was born in the lost kingdom of Verri, but she was raised in a cloister (Not nuns, but yes, women who were very religious nevertheless). She has little to no memory of Verri and spent most of her days learning to be a lady... To speak like a lady, to embroider, to sing and pluck a tune on a lute like a lady... How very dull and drab. She had, nevertheless, been pampered, for her father had donated generously and made it clear that she was to be a lady, not a servant. She had her own servants, they did everything for her. The cloister was raided and many lives were lost, and now she finds herself traveling alone for parts unknown.
She has known lots of war.
Then she met her mate, Cairex, and they set off into the Usque, only to be torn apart by the cataclysm...
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 13:59:40 GMT -5
|
Post by Faisine D'Arcy on May 17, 2021 17:03:13 GMT -5
"Greetings," she said after Khepri, bowing slightly even though she probably outranked everyone in the tent at some point or another, not that it mattered anymore. "I am Faisine," she said, introducing herself.
|
|
Anatolius
Committed
Roleplay posts: 53
Appearance: On the border of youth and middle age, blond-brown hair at points starts greying (giving it a look of a more solid blond) and wrinkles form from stress and too much sun on an otherwise young face.
Registered: Apr 9, 2021 22:01:35 GMT -5
|
Post by Anatolius on Jun 7, 2021 0:54:09 GMT -5
Entering last, Anatolius looked about the room, failing to suppress the trained abacuses of his mind calculating the worth of the admittedly sparse baubels of the building. To be quite frank he had zoned out on some of the journey here, but it seemed civilized enough company. Touching his forelock with two fingers in a light hearted salute he spoke his own name: "Hail, I am Anatolius.", the raucous clanking of his armours only now ceasing.
|
|
The Reverend
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: 77
Appearance: Standing at 5’10 and weighing about 160 pounds, the Reverend is far from physically imposing. His skin is tanned and leathery and he has a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. His eyes are gray in color and his hair is white. Most of the time he wears a rather plain brown hooded robe, but for ceremonies the outfit he wears in the profile picture is accurate.
---------------------------------------------------------
Equipment: The holy book of Ardorism, which is a very hefty tome that is gold wrapped and crafted out of the finest materials and enchanted with holy magic. Several ceremonial daggers made out of a variety of precious metals and materials. A pair of glasses that assist the user in detecting the presence of magic. An exceptionally tall ceremonial hat with matching pauldrons that are guided in gold, they are also enchanted.
---------------------------------------------------------
Biography: Known in the Balaton Kingdom as Archbishop Womodious, he presided over The Faithful while also offering his council to Prince Lylok, the young, presumptive ruler of Lower Pannonia. He had instructed Lylok since the tender age of 5, doing all he could to instill the values of a good leader into the lad.
However, Lylok wasn’t the only child he was raising. Several years prior to his appointment at the cathedral, The Reverend found an orphan left on his doorstep. While he could have simply sent them to the orphanage, he took this as a sign from God and chose to raise the child as his own. Naming her Zasha, after a famous Saint known for her patience, grace, and gentleness, she was brought up with the tenets of the church all around her, but Womodious did his best to never push her too hard to accept them all. Forcing the tenet’s of Adorism on someone who wasn’t willing went against all of Womodious’s beliefs.
Zasha and Lylok were similar in age, yet came from starkly different worlds. Through their mutual father figure, they had many interactions. Both learning different lessons from the other as a rivalry of sorts formed between them. Lylok succeeded in areas of the mind and wit, while Zasha routinely trounced her brother in the play yard, and always finished her chores first.
And then, the Holy Rain came. On the day of Lylok’s 30th birthday, at this point a beloved and just ruler. Womdious and Zasha were traveling back on a boat from missionary work and had just docked at the port as disaster struck. Immense amounts of rain, the likes they had never seen before fell, and the ocean came alive as if possessed by some demonic force.
Womodious didn’t know how he managed to clamber aboard the HMS Agamemnon, but took this miracle as a sign from God that he still had work to do in this life. With the nation of Balaton destroyed, he cast aside his previous title and his name, stating he was now solely “The Reverend”. He had lost Lylok, but he still had Zasha, and together, he wished for them to start fresh elsewhere. He planned to do all he could to keep Ardorism alive in what was left of this watery grave of a world.
Registered: Mar 20, 2021 18:26:03 GMT -5
|
Post by The Reverend on Jun 13, 2021 21:36:01 GMT -5
Accepting Khepri’s greeting by touching her forehead as she bowed, the Reverend looked around at the three visitors before speaking.
“Welcome to Pannoa, our humble home. I am the Reverend and I am currently in charge of our little settlement here. Please, sit. You must be tired from your travels.”
As if on queue, several attendants brought over a chair for each of the visitors along with cups of water. Once these had been accepted or declined, the attendants would scurry back off to the corners of the tent.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how exactly did the three of you find yourself in this land?”
The Reverend assumed it was in a similar way to how he himself had found himself in this land… But assuming something that important without even asking would be quite foolish.
|
|
Khepri Goldenfeather
Committed
Roleplay posts: 96
Appearance: Smattered in golden feathers, Khepri glimmers from dawn to dusk. Vast, dark wings, lightening to ivory toward her spine, spread outward above her broad hips, supporting an otherwise petite frame. Black hair, straight as a waterfall, surrounds a round face. She has sharp, dangerous eyes that mimic the time of day, plump lips that tell you what you want to hear, and honey-sweet skin to ease her features. The only interruption to an otherwise heavenly visage is a pair of feet with toes and a heel ending in talons.
_______________________________________________________
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 19:54:50 GMT -5
|
Post by Khepri Goldenfeather on Jun 14, 2021 15:01:09 GMT -5
Khepri accepted the seat, though not in the way that humans did. As she had a delicate tail of feathers splaying out from her lower back, she could not simply lay her rump on them for fear of breaking the stems. Instead, she stepped onto the seat and turned around, then fluffed the feathers of her tail and her wings behind the back of the chair. She sat on the top rail and rested her feet on the front of the seat to keep her balance. In every movement she had a heft of grace and pride, knowing they would be watching.
"How did all of us find ourselves here?" she asked, raising a brow. "Sailing or swimming through a mist after the floods took our lands. I've heard the same story several times now. As to how we came here, I was with a small group and parted ways to scout the island. I pointed them here not a week past. Perhaps you have seen them? A lithe orc and a pale fox woman." Indeed, at least one of them had shown up days prior, as Khepri would have hoped.
"My companions here might have slightly different stories, but I believe they all started the same."
|
|
