Bennet's Arrival

Tenebrae - Saturday, October 19, 2013, 10:08 PM

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-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A15: Vardamite Temple *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The Vardamite temple is a solemn affair. Composed of carved blocks of basalt, it looks as if the whole thing were set into a scooped-out chunk of the mountain. Braziers and torches, despite the presence of more modern conveniences, are the main source of light. The basalt columns and blocks are engraved with prayers for the dead from hundreds of cultures and dozens of races. Some are works of master carvers, still others are little more than the work of desperate or sorrowful petitioners, quick prayers lovingly scratched into an empty space.

An outdoor altar is littered with offerings, as are the steps and even ground surrounding the front of the temple. These offerings are frequently collected or cleaned away by serious-faced Mourners, or Mourner-acolytes, while Serriel's Lancers guard the front doors. As ever, the sound of monks in perpetual chant can be heard as a low background noise as they go about their somber business.

Bennet is heard before he's seen. Or more accurately, his ride is. A loud bray, echoing against the rocky walls, followed by a quiet gravely murmur. "Hush. You'll get your oats soon enough. If ya wouldn't just moved, coulda been there by now, ya durn fool." A mule, long of ear and stuborn of disposition, and a man upon it's back, both slouched and straight, as someone trying to rouse the energy to be attentive at the end of a long day.

There's an acolyte there, soon enough. One figure in the vaulted halls that makes it look...lonely. Lonely. There's a word often associated with the Vardamen. "Excuse me. I've got the reins, ser. Is there something I can help you with?"

He's older for an acolyte, a youth gawky and well into his teens.

Bennet mmms, and dismounts, taking a worn rifle from the saddel holster and strapping it across his back. The motion is smooth and thoughless, a practiced part; when you get off the mule, you grab your gun. Never, ever, be far from your weapon. "Well, if could show me where to tie up the lazy ass, I'd be obliged. Need to speak with The Lady, but some things gotta come first."

The acolyte bows, and takes the reins. "I'll be glad to see to him. There's a stable around the back." He smiles to let Bennet know this is a usual thing, and that the mule will be taken care of.

"Is there someone out there, Gustin?" comes a voice from the temple walkway, and quick steps.

Bennet nods, used to stable boys well enough, though not those on their way to a higher calling. Perring towards walkway, he calls back. "Aye. Sorry fer the hour. Ment to be here 'fore supper. Mule had other plans."

"No trouble, ser." And the acolyte gives the mule's reins a tug and begins leading him down a side path. Presumably, well, towards the temple's stables.

"It's not an issue. We're here to serve, an' all." The voice belongs to a youngish man, who wears a set of formal robes. He wears the Lady's khopesh against his side and a quizzical look on his face. It subsides as he gets a look at the new arrival, but doesn't completely go away. "How may I serve? Mourner Kerbasy d'Bahjat. Honor to th' Lady."

"Rest in the Haven." Bennet replies automatically, then hesitates, obviously out of his element. "Bennet. Bennet Susson. Got a need to speak with the Lady. I... question ain't sure 'bout the answer. Reckon maybe this is the place for it."

The Mourner grins at the response before he can school his features aside. "Then be welcome. I and the other Mourners will be here to see to your needs. ...and your questions, as best we can." He steps aside, and gestures for Bennet to walk with him down the pathway.

Bennet nods, and falls in beside, walking at an easy stroll. "Appericate that padre, and thank ya for the offer. But, reckon some questions ain't ment for but a man and the Lady." He coughs, and hesitates a moment. "You from the Shineing Reaches? 'd'Bahjat' sounds familiar."

Heh. The Vast, if that's what you mean. I don't know the other names for it, I'm afraid." Kerbasy gives a quick smile that falls back into a patient one. One that gives Bennet his privacy and space, and attempts to provide comfort all the same.

They make him practice it in front of mirrors.

"I hope you'll...find wisdom in your stay. Heh," he says. He smiles and tugs one of the doors open. When it does--it swings wide on well-oiled hinges, revealing Alexandria's Temple to the Gray Harpist.

Bennet mmms again. "One of the nicer bits. Settled, anyways. Been out there for... a while." Bennet hesitates at the threshold a moment, before stepping across. "Too long, maybe."

The temple is cool and quiet. Especially on a night like this. For a temple of Twilight in ALexandros proper, it's...large, though that's more a function of the catacombs beneath.

Someone had to guard them.

Their footsteps echo among the Pillars as the two men arrive. Kerbasy remains quiet, and lets Bennet talk, and find his own measure.

Bennet's steps slow, but don't stop, in part of his looking around, in part of hesitation. Change can be a scary thing, even towards something you want. "Ya been out to the Sundered Sea? Good land, just to the south. Settles down a bit for weeks, sometimes, good grazing. Can perk up quick, gotta watch, but ain't too bad. Though, ya see things sometimes. Don't bother the cattle none, but can get a man thinking. What he's done, what he ain't, maybe 'bout what's to come. Come at the end of it all, and that long bit after." He falls quiet for a time, before peering at the pillars. "Life's given me more than I gave. Reckon I got a debt to pay. I aim to settle up."

The Mourner nods, and follows the man's gaze to the pillar. He smiles quietly; there's a touch of solemnity to it. ".When you find you're ready, say your words. Your time here is yours' and the Lady's." He pauses after that and looks to Bennet. "Is there something else before I go?"

Bennet ponders a moment. "Where's a place to bunk down? Ain't sure I'll stay here, but don't reckon I'll go far."

"When you're done, just look for me." Kerbasy bows to the man and then indicates the walls. "I'll be over there. I'm on duty for another hour. If not myself, one of the other Mourners will be here." He smiles, almost grins, but he manages to wrestle it down. He just looks like he does that /often/. And, bows again.

Bennet nods his thanks, and moves on a bit. Finding a place that... 'feels right'.

Time passes, but not a lot of it. The words might come slow, but there aren't many of them. As for the answer, well, only a word was needed.

Bennet strides with an easy stroll, looking for Kerbasi. He still doesn't know the place, but the nervousness from earlier is gone. His course is chosen, and his mind and soul are settled. He 'fits', if maypahs not so well as those who have been here a while.

The Mourner's arranging a set of...there's a vase on a table to the side. On the table are a series of flowers. Most of them, should one study such things, are symbolic in one way or another, and it's not too far a stretch to imagine what concepts these might touch on. He looks up as Bennet approaches.

...and grins. "I see you found your answers."

Bennet snorts, but grins. "Some. Raises a whole lot more. But reckon they're a more general sort. 'Absolution' is the title, right?"

After a moment, the Mourner's brows go up. His natural cheer threatens to get away from him, but he grabs it with both hands and throttles it down to a smile. "Let me put these away, and I'll show you to your room." He starts to stand, and looks down at the arrangement he was working on. After a moment, back up. "Welcome to th' Temple, Absolution."

On the way to the rooms, he'll make some comment about Bennet catching up on his sleep when he can.

Because Bennet? Over the next several days?

Is going to find out just /how/ understaffed they are. How understaffed these temples tend to be. People will always Pass. Always. It doesn't mean the Temple can keep up with them.

Here's hoping he has strong shoulders.

Bennet doesn't mind. Long hours, hard work, he'd have trouble doing it any other way. But, he does have one point. He's perfectly happy to help the Mourners as best he can. But he's helping them with -their- work. His Duty lies elsewhere. A Mourners tends to those who's time has come, and who's time is not yet. He's here for those who's time is past due.