Kerbasi and Carmina bury someone's pet in Sandy's front lawn to help out some children and their mother, proving that, in fact, the elf does dislike all things cute or cuddly. This is the second in a series--still finding the first. 

 

Lady Sandiel's Manor - Great Hall

    Although the hall is wide, with a high ceiling, it appears smaller. Dark walls seem to crowd the space, giving the air a sense of chill despite the actual temperature. Faded, threadbare tapestries hang on the walls, pictures long since obscured by dust and smoke. Long runners pad the stone floor, softening the sound of footsteps. Faded and patched, their original patterns are difficult to discern, all merged into a dark, shadowed red. Wrought iron brackets are set into the walls at even intervals between the tapestries, holding torches to light the way. The metal is blackened by smoke, the wall behind them charred.

    At the end of the great hall is a large stone staircase that leads to the upper story. Doorways, some open, other with actual doors, lead off to other rooms, other, smaller hallways.

    <<Places set - Library (join #1) or Dining Hall (join #2)>>

                <<+view>>

Contents:

Carmina

Sandy

Obvious exits:

Staircase <U>  Out <O>

It's a grave and rainy day. A grave day...for digging graves. Kerbasi stands just outside the mansion, dripping wet, water running down his cassock and armor. A little boy and girl stand nearby, sniffling in the rain, with their mother behind. The mother's expression is, of course, 'get on with it!' The two children's expressions, though, are fixated on the giant hole he's dug in the elf's yard. And is now filling up.

Carmina comes walking down the street, hood up, looking as if she's on her way somewhere or simply in a hurry to escape the rain. The gravedigging gets a raised eyebrow. "Finally killed someone, did she?" wondered aloud to no one in particular.

The children huddle together in the rain, sniffling, their eyes red and bright. The mother looks up though, sniffing at the comment, "The lady Sandiel never--"

"Has a fondness for kittens and would see'em buried properly an' all," the young man says, eyes twinkling. He adds another scoop of dirt to the pile, and waves her over. "Kerbasi, Patient's Servant. I don' believe we've met?"

Carmina just raises an eyebrow at the lady. "Carmina," last name, as always, deliberately omitted. "Did someone die in an explosion?" Once she gets an idea in her head, she doesn't let it go.

The children look up at that, sniffling. "N-no, she, she just died." the little boy says, and the little girl adds: "Her name was Snowball," of course it was. "D-did you come for th-the funeral?" she looks up with reddened cheeks, and seems happy Carmina's there.

It causes a bit of awakardness on behalf of the young priest, who silently adds more dirt to the grave. And yet more. "Everyone loved Snowball," he assures them, glancing at the magess. "Now why don't y'go inside, an' I'll finish up here?"

Carmina seems to realize she's been insensitive, and so she nods. "I did," she tells the little ones. "But yes, the priest is right - perhaps Cook has some cookies waiting?" suggested. The half-elf is clearly uncomfortable with children, but she's trying.

The kids nod, and let themselves be led away. The mother shoots Carmina a grateful look, though there are many backwards glances towards the grave, or rather, the Giant Hole in Sandy's yard. Kerbasi waits for them to leave, then blows some of his bangs from his face. Sopping wet, by now. He plops another lump of dirt-mud onto the pile. "Don' suppose y'mind liftin' a shovel?" he asks her. And grins, once they're well out of earshot. "Now what makes y'think th' matron of th' place would do a thing like that?"

Carmina looks at the shovel. This man clearly has a lot to learn about her. She picks it up and starts carrying dirt, but it's a pretty pathetic display. "Artifice is a dangerous occupation. Death is always a potential consequence when it is used."

The young priest looks grateful for the help, and digs in with a sort of verve energy that might be unnerving were it not so cheerful, a natural part of the man. The grave was dug quite deep, of course, so there's alot to be filled--nevertheless, it's going to leave quite the erm, mark on the lawn for some time! "I can't say I know t'much about it, but--what Vardan doesn't have an appreciation f' tradition?" he asks Carmina, smiling. He lets the comment about death slide for now.

Carmina continues to fill the grave, stepping delicately about to avoid muddying the bottom of her robes - at least her shoes are practical. "Shall we create it a tombstone?" inquired. People who know Carmina well might recognize this supposedly innocent tone as one meant to start great amounts of trouble, but those who don't will likely find it sincere.

Kerbasi's eyes light at the suggestion, and he offers a smile the mage's way. For his own part, it's sincere, and he makes an enthused gesture with his hands, palms outward. "Of course! Th' children would b' delighted to know Snowball's t'be remembered. I actually buried another cat out here not s'long ago," his smile falters a bit, and he pauses to lean the shovel against the trunk of a nearby tree.

Carmina continues to pile on dirt. "Does the Lady know that you've been burying animals in her yard?" inquired in that tone again. Because, really, she doesn't want to be caught with a shovel in her hands - she wants to see it reaction, of course, but from a safe distance.

"They belong t'her servants," Kerbasi says, sounding surprised. "Why wouldn' I bury'em in her yard?" he wipes his hands clean, and eventually just holds them out into the rain, letting the water clean them. He's soaked, anyway. "...are y'a stone mason?" he asks her. Another brush of his hands to get the mud away.

"Don't you bury them in a place where the rest of the dead are buried?" Carmina says, quirking an eyebrow. "And no, I'm not a stone mason. Anyway, you didn't answer my question," she points out, gently.

"She knows," Kerbasi says after a pause. He still sounds cheerful, and picks up the shovel again. "W'should go put these in th' shed," he suggests. And looks at her a moment, head cocked like a bird's. "And y'didn't answer m'question. How are y'going t'make a tombstone?"

"I suggested we make one together," Carmina notes, handing Kerbasi the shovel. "Or go find someone to make one."

Kerbasi glances at the shovel, and then obligingly shoulders them both, then starts to lead the way to the shed. "I'm n'good at it, but I could ask around. It's alot of cats t'lose in that short of a time," he says, voice conversational, a little worried. "I might look around, see if perhaps th' rats are getting into something."

"How are they dying?" Carmina asks. "I can find out about the rats, see if any are dying strangely," noted as she follows him, still picking her way delicately across the yard, through the mud.

"Another fuckign cat? Gods," says Sandy, irritably. A scowl is on her face. "This is just fucking annoying," she adds, making her way down towards where Carmina and Kerbasi are.

"N'sure," Kerbasi says, gripping the shovels as he makes to open the door to the shed. "I didn't think t'look at just th' first one. Cats passin' on aren't thet unusual...evenin', Sandy," he says, shoving the door open. "Be right with y'!" and he ambles easily into the shed to put the shovels away. Of course, it also takes him out of the rain!

"Sandy," Carmina says, nodding politely to the elven noble. "How are you today?" she steps into the shed as well, for the temporary respit.

"Fine," grunts Sandy, "but I've been fucking better." A scowl remains on her face as she stops there, putting her hands together behind her back. "I'm so glad they sent you." She scowls again, then says to Carmina, "I could've done without the fucking FLYING UMBERHULKS."

It takes a while, and there's a decided CRASH!!! before Kerbasi re-emerges in the dark. And that's only after some muffled cursing and a--glow. Yes, the soft, whispered prayers to the Most Holy reveal a wreckage where he'd collided into something in Sandy's shed. A wheelborrow and a set of rakes. "I'll b' a moment," he mutters, irritated with himself, and sets about unwinding the rake from where it was hugging his robes.

"They didn't get close enough to hurt us," Carmina points out. "I shall have to research these umberhulks - quite unusual creatures from a distance." And then after the crash, "So, your new friend is nice," noted, maybe to fan the flames of rage.

"...he can go fucking die in a fire for all I care. He's a Vardaman cleric they send to bury the fucking pets. And anyone *else* who dies." Sandy gives a look to Carmina. A look.

The rake's stubborn. It's just looking for a little affection, apparently, because Kerbasi has a hard time dislodging it. Still, he stops midyank, "Sandy, we've discussed this. If I die, it means m'sermons," He flashes a cheerful grin and goes back to wrestling with the rake--which he eventually rips away--at the expense of part of his sleeve and his balance. THUNK!

Carmina quirks a brow at Sandy. "So there are people buried in this yard." Such a morbid mind the half-elf has. "But at least the pets are buried, hm?"

Innocently, Sandy says, "I am not going to answer that." She glances at Kerbasi. Just LOOKs at him.

Carmina quirks an eyebrow at Sandy. "What did you do?"

Kerbasi brushes his sleeve, and threads come clear of it. It doesn't seem to bother him much--he seems cheerful, despite. "I'm always glad t'offer m'services," he says cheerfully. "Carmina here was suggesting tombstones for the pets," a pause, and a quick frown, quick, lively like the rest of his gestures, "Though I'm startin' to wonder why so many cats are passing on."

"Are they old cats, young cats?" Carmina inquires, thoughtfully. "And, for what it's worth, Rana is pregnant, so there's another kitten when the little ones are ready."

"What, *again*?" says Sandy, staring at Carmina with a horrified look on her face. "I am so keeping Rawsone out of her even though she already wants to kick my ass." Another scowl on her face.

"Old enough I didn't worry for it, though now I'm startin' t'," Kerbasi says, righting the wheelbarrow. Outside, rain pelts on the roof, quick staccato, the quick beats of tiny fingers. "Though if one more does, I'll be lookin' into it," he glances at them both. "Otherwise y'll have a yard full of sobbin' kids, here." A pause. "Rawsone? Is she about t'give me more work t'do?"

"I don't think she'd kill Sandy," Carmina notes of things to be buried in the yard. "And yes, do avoid a fight with Rawsone. Very uncouth."

"Oh, she won't kill me," says Sandy, "but she'll take a swing at me. Then I will gleefully point out that I was busy keeping her fucking husband alive and she'll get even madder. It'll be fun." She sounds amused, really.

"So charming, you nobles," Carmina notes, smirking ever so slightly. "Really, Zak and I tried to talk her out of hitting you."

Kerbasi rights the wheelbarrow more slowly. "Sounds like someone intent on keepin' m' employed," he says, though there's a faint frown on his features. He brushes his hands together. Of course, he's also covered in mud, or his cassock is. He doesn't seem to notice.

"Very charming," says Sandy, casually, cracking her knuckles for added emphasis. "But, no. Actually, she's mad at me because I didn't leave someone dead. I paid for a spell to bring the dead back to life. Real life, that is. Of course, to Rawsone, that's some stupid necromancy shit even when it's done by a Priestess of Althea." She rolls her eyes.

"Everyone is entitled to their opinion," Carmina notes, shrugging a bit. "I just hope I don't die on Rawsone's watch," admitted simply. And then to Sandy, "Will you hit her back?"

"Goddess isn't that greedy," Kerbasi says, after a pause. "I get that sometimes in th' city. Folks afraid of it, just like they're afraid of death. W'spend more time counselin' than anythin' else," he adds. Then, "Can I offer y'two a cookie?"

"I can understand where she's coming from. She's a cleric of Gilead," explains SAndy to Kerbasi, "But the thing is? Even the druids can bring people back if they want to -- it's a little different, but they can still bring the formerly dead back to life." She shrugs her shoulders, then says to Kerbasi. "..you said the magic word to her." She points at Carmina.

Carmina, indeed, seems to have perked up. "Ah, yes. I haven't had dinner yet," she says, accepting the offer of cookies. "Druids can bring people back that look like other people, yes?" she asks, clarifying. So far, Carmina is definitely not a A) Gravedigger B) Mother C) Baker D) Stonemason E) Artificer and F) Druid.

"People get afraid," Kerbasi says, amicably. "...and I've a few, you think y'might like 'em." He quiets as he pats down his robe, fishing about in its pockets and folds. Eventually his face brightens, and he produces a small tin, which he opens and passes, much like an offertory plate. Inside, are a number of small, black cookies, shaped like coffins. They're covered in sprinkles. Cheerful! Some of them have chocolate chips melted on top.

"Sort of. Druids can bring people back. Sometimes, they don't come back the same as they were. So you might come back as a full blooded elf, for example," says Sandy to Carmina, cheerfully. Now that is just a mean suggestion.

"What a terrible fate, to be an elf," Carmina says, then takes a cookie. Its state seems to distract her, and she turns it over and over. "Where did you find sugar flower seeds?" ...speaking of elves.

"Y'can find most anything in the market," Kerbasi says, snagging a few for himself. He snatches indiscriminately, plucking two from the tin before offering it to Sandy.

So Sandy stares at Carmina for a long moment. She shakes her head at Kerbasi, absently. She's still staring at Carmina, "...seeds," she repeats.

Carmina scrapes a few sprinkles off the cookie and wanders away from the conversation to drop them on top of the cat's grave. /Definitely/ not a druid. She comes back, nibbling delicately on the cookie.

"There'll be sugar flowers growin' in th' yard, now," Kerbasi says after a moment. "But perhaps y'should wait till before they're cooked," he suggests. "I can get y'a few, if y've a mind to baking. These took m' a part of an afternoon."

"..Carmina, do not listen to the cleric. There is no such thing as sugar flower seeds. Whatever elf told you that? Stupid." A glare at Kerbasi. Just a glare. Sandy clears her throat. "No. Such. Thing."

Carmina shakes her head. "No no, Sandy. They're those pretty flowers in the woods. The ones with the yellow centers and white petals," she's describing daisies, basically. "Now, we've come to an agreement on bread trees, but..." and then she pauses, thinking these through. "Oh." And then she seems deflated. "Sometimes I hate being half human," admitted.

Kerbasi grins quickly over at Sandy, but the look he turns to Carmina is serious indeed. A slow nod. "Sugar flowers look a bit more like sticks, but enough water and th'should grow. I think I know th' plant you're talkin' about, though. I could get y'some seeds for them, too," he tells her, turning one of the cookies over between his fingers.

So Sandy walks over to Kerbasi and promptly kicks him in the shin with the toe of her boot. "Aren't you a fucking cleric of Vardama? You're not supposed to lead people astray, numbskull. No such thing!"

"Stupid flowers," Carmina mutters. At least /that's/ not her last name. And then she shakes her head. "I appreciate it, but--" and then there's a pause. "Sandy, no kicking, or I'll glue your ears to your head again."

He's promptly holding his shin, then. OOOOOooowwww! "My--" he gasps, "relations with th' other clerics aren't like that..." Owwwww! He gingerly puts his foot back down, breathing gently in and out. He's a level two, that took away half his hit points! "And for th' record, there are seeds for daises. ...ow."

"You just try it," says Sandy with a glare at Carmina, jabbing a finger at her before turning back towards Kerbasi and jabbing that same finger at him, "No leading the half-elf astray! Bad Vardaman!"

"I managed it once," Carmina notes. Hey, her word against Sandy's. "We can grow the daisies and make her ladyship a dress out of them," noted pleasantly.

The cleric looks wide-eyed at the hand jabbing at him. Jab, jab, jab. You know, that kick /hurt/. "Ah...Sandy, y'keep that up I might just be inclined t'a sermon," he tells her. "An' since when are sugar flowers not shaped like sticks?" He starts to move the hand away, then does, and somehow regains his feet.

"Once," says Sandy, tapping her own long ears before saying, "is not the same as getting to do it again." She sniffs, then says to Kerbasi, "You try and sermon and I'll shove your face into the dirt."

Carmina tells Kerbasi, conspiratorily, "She clearly needs another cookie. Or maybe a hug."

"Ah," says Kerbasi, eyes all light and fire. He turns to Carmina, "That," he says judiciously, "Sounds like an interesting story. She was kind enough t'help me with one th' other day. Lady Serene joined in." And a blink. He bows. "My services are yours t'command. Should you get on th' right, and I on th' left?" he asks Carmina.

Carmina nods and holds open her arms, standing to Sandy's right.

Kerbasi steps to the left, and holds his open, too.

And then Sandy is gone. She utters a quick command word for her teleportation device and dissapears. HELL NO SHE IS NOT GETTING HUGGED.

Kerbasi drops his arms, then, and rubs his chin as he looks over the place where the elf had just stood. And looks up at Carmina, "Want a cookie?" he asks.

Carmina just shakes her head. "See? All they do is waste magic, all day long. She could've easily used a simpler spell to remove herself." And then she turns, apparently letting herself into the manor house.

Carmina heads inside, coerces cook out of the kitchen. "Let's make cookies," she tells Kerbasi, then promptly starts mixing....things..together. It's quite possible that she just put cheese in those cookies.

Kerbasi invites himself in, too, apparently used to entering strangers' houses. He recognizes a few of the kids who scurry around, and shortly thereafter, for whatever reason, he's practically running into the kitchen. "Ah. Cookies," he says cheerfully. He throws a glance back over his shoulder. "We'll need--" flour. He blinks at the cheese.

Carmina reaches for the salt...and pepper...next. Kerbasi's cookies may look it, but Carmina's cookies may just actually be deadly.

"So what type of cookies are those?" Kerbasi asks, cheerful. "Cheese and pepper?" he rummages around until he finds a sack of flour, then sets about hefting it to somewhere it can be used.

Carmina finds little bits of dried meat, stirring those in as well. "Yes. See, cookies are delightful in their sweetness, but what about a cookie that tastes like dinner - something meaty and cheesy?" So, essentially, what she wants are Hot Pockets.

Kerbasi looks horrified, and reaches out, a hand on the tip of the spoon to stop her. "Cheese isn't uhm..." he's only a young cleric, alright? So it's understandable when words Utterly Fail him!

Carmina looks up at him, eyes big, "Isn't what?" This could be a worse blow than the sugar flowers...

"Th' don't melt right," Kerbasi suggests, and reaches over, whisking the bowl out of the way. He pats her shoulder, "Get m' some flour? We'll make'er some kitten cookies." With little halos.

Carmina wrinkles her nose. "I can't put cheese in, but you can put kittens in?"

"Shaped like kittens," Kerbasi says, cheerfully. He looks into the bowl. "This isn't going t' melt just right. Th' kitten eyes will be all melty."

Carmina looks into the bowl, dubiously. Then, a rat with a cape climbs out of her clothes and settles into the bowl, eating the cheese. What a pig. She turns to Kerbasi, nonchalant.

Kerbasi is understandably somewhat nervous now. He clears his throat, offering a quick grin, and leaving the rat to the other bowl, he snags a second and fills it with...alot of sugar. He hands this over to the half-elf. Look! Sugar flower seeds!

Carmina grins back at Kerbasi. "Let's make flower shaped cookies instead. Those are Sandy's favorite."

Kerbasi moves the other bowl closer to the rat. "I think w'need eggs next...do y'know where th' Cook keeps those?" he asks Carmina. "...Flowers?"

Carmina nods and goes off, finding the eggs. Then, she comes back, leaning over the bowl with the stuff in it, and drops the eggs in. Yes, the whole egg.

"We'll need some flour, t'," Kerbasi says. He's far off in the pantry somewhere, and hasn't noticed the egg! "And you're sure about th' flowers? Y'sure she wouldn't rather some nice coffins? I've always found'em cheerful..."

Carmina picks up the bag of flour and overturns it on top of the eggs. It floats up, covering her face and hair so that she answers Kerbasi with a coughing fit.

"Coffins, maybe a smilin' raven or--" and he comes back, hands full of small, fragile, utterly breakable glass bottles, and...walks right into the cloud of flour. He doesn't notice it of course, until he's right in the middle of it. "Oh sweet Vardama. Did I jes' die an' not know it?"

Carmina just starts shouting, "Help! The templars! They're back!" She admittedly seems genuinely frightened for a few seconds.

Cupcake stops eating cheese and assume a defensive posture.

A moment passes. Sandy appears. "Carmina, you better not be fucking around, or else you're going to have a hell of a lot more to worry about then the fucking Templars."

"Not fucking," Carmina promises. "Can't see. What is this foul magic?" She menas the flour.

Kerbasi stands there a moment longer, holding the bottles. "You took t'long, Sandy," he tells her urbanely. "We're all dead, now."

"Yes, of all about two seconds. Why is Carmina covered in flour?" She points at the flour.

They're both covered in flour. Clearly, they're ghosts.

Carmina blinks. "Flour." That's what this is. "This must be exploding flour. You'd best check to see that someone hasn't sabotaged your food supply," she informs Sandy, glumly.

"Y'know, I never thought th' afterlife was going t'look much like a kitchen," Kerbasi says, thoughtful. "This is going t'cause all sorts of theological debate, Sandy. I think you've just started a n'religion." He beams at her.

Sandy's hadn goes up over her face for a long moment, then says, "Hardly. If you want to start a relationship, go look for Kylie. I'm sure she'll expound on the benefits of worshipping the Gunslinger Goddess." She snorts, thenpoints a finger at Kerbasi, "I am going to make you clean this mess up, you know." She glares balefully at Carmina.

Carmina smiles serenely. She clearly knows this isn't her fault and she's not cleaning it up. Only children. "I'm making you cookies, Sandy." Evil only children.

Carmina smiles serenely. She clearly knows this isn't her fault and she's not cleaning it up. Only children. "I'm making you cookies, Sandy." Evil only children.

Carmina has reconnected.

Carmina smiles serenely. She clearly knows this isn't her fault and she's not cleaning it up. Only children. "I'm making you cookies, Sandy." Evil only children.

Kerbasi's smile turns up several watts. "She is. Sh'even added cheese," Kerbasi says. Is he closer to the exit? Surely not! Perhaps he is.

"I think you better start running, cleric," says Sandy, quietly, to KErbasi. Then she looks at Carmina. Just glares at her. Then Kerbasi again. She's looking progressively more and more furious.

Carmina wipes flour out of her eyes. It looks pretty pathetic. "Bye cleric."

"I think I had a few things t'see to," Kerbasi agrees. "Sandy, please don't kill her. That'll only make m'come back." And he's so gone.