Many thanks to Whirlpool for running this at the last minute!

Temple of The Moon - Outer Pavilion

    Thirteen alabaster pillars, marble sentinels for the phases of the moon, ring a courtyard of inky granite slabs. The silence of the night sky is reflected in the voiceless attention priests pay to their duties. When in the house of the moon, silence is silver. A sliver of an enclosure, homage to the crescent moon, is the sole closed structure in this temple. The white marble carvings of the enclosure pay homage to Eluna in her knowing glory, and glorify her battles against ignorance and evil. Centered in the courtyard with its keystones aligned to the tips of the crescent enclosure is the arch of the heavens. A circular pool of still water with a bottom of solid silver is split by the span of the arch, and here silent priests scry into the darkness, searching for places where the light is most needed within the domain of Alexandria.

    Outside of the circle are three outbuildings surrounded by gardens. Priests live, work, and sleep in the smallest of the three, finding what space they can in tiny living cells. The second building contains rooms where priests my meet with the faithful, holding cells for those diseased with the shifting sickness, and workrooms for the crafting and castings that earn maintenance money for the church. Finally, the library stands sentinel to the north. Its tall walls stretch two stories into the air, and only by clever architecture does it not overshadow the silent courtyard of worship. Here scribes copy rare books and scrolls, spreading knowledge and learning from one temple to the next, with which to teach the people.

Contents:

Whirlpool

Chandrakanta

Rawsone

Obvious exits:

Out <O>

Darshan walks up to the Moon's Temple on borrowed legs--the paladin's look stays fixed on the darkness underneath the cart tarp, and were he still as he were, he would have looked green, under the scale. Now, he sways faintly in the saddle, and Srassha's mouth clicks silently. His own sword's out, too, held awkwardly in a hand, and gripped tightly. And stares at it. "By the gods...where are the priests?!" he tears look away to look towards the temple, the words tense and hoarse.

All of you can hear it.

The faintest cacophany. The sound of howling wolves. Whenever a bump on the road uncovers it even a little, it grows more powerful. Whenever the horses pause on this silent night, you can hear it. It's coming from the great hammer that rides now in the cart pulled along by horses, and probably assisted by Darshan's mount. It's huge and unwiedly. Barely fits in the caravan.

"...whole barrelfull of apples," Rochanna is muttering to herself as she, too, helps to pull the cart along. Rawsone, walking beside her, absently pats the horse and doesn't contradict the statement. Perhaps she thinks the horse actually *deserves* that many apples this time. Anyway, the ranger rubs at a sensitive ear, and looks around for whoever the poor door-guard might be at the temple tonight.

Darshan says a word that paladins don't say, but he will. He says it roughly, in the words of the Old Tongue, that harsher language and he looks down at his own blade in surprise. Mutters something else and rams it back into the scabbard. And still--it's back to looking towards the darkened weapon, the source of that howling. "They'll be here," he says, perhaps to be reassuring, but. It holds the gaze. It does. That hammer. "We just have to wait."

"Not going to like it at all," Rawsone mutters. "Don't think their vault's anywhere near big enough for something like this." She directs a glare at the tarp covering the hammer. "You want to go get someone from the Daeusite temple, or just talk to the Elunites first?"

An Elunite has arrived.

The sound of people arriving at a late hour like this was bound to draw out the typically nocturnal moon worshippers. Come on, you can't worship the moon and not be awake at night more oten than not. So an acolyte comes out and says, "Oh my. What's this, then?" He stares at the lot of them.

"Hun--" the hammer, "Rawsone," he corrects his speech mid-sentence, and shifts in the saddle. Srassha shifts too, counterbalancing, her head coming up for the moment. "I'd get everyone we could," and that last's blunt, honest, the words underspoken and even soft. He tears his gaze away from the hammer when the acolyte arrives, and there's silence, then. "We need to speak with the Father, I'm afraid. Could you fetch Father Morrow? Ask in the name of--" he looks back at Rawsone, back again. "I don't think I mrm, need to get names. But please do this quickly, and as quietly as you can."

"In the name of Gilead, Averium, and Daeus," Rawsone fills in what Darshan leaves blank. "And...we've spoken with the good Father before. Know it's late, but this is really important." With that, she turns and nods to Darshan. "Can go fetch someone, if you want. Anyone comes to take this, going to have their hands full."

Darshan's tail flickers, and he gives the briefest shake of his head before looking down at the hammer again. To her. "I worry for tricks, priestess. I don't know what they might pull." A look at the acolyte, then. "Please hurry. This is important, especially for your faith. As one of Daeus' own, just--" a look at Rawsone, back as Srassha shifts underneath, and he reaches into his belt, and grasping something there, tosses something silver towards the acolyte. A holy symbol of the same.

"I'll fetch one of my superiors right away," says the acolyte, a bit puzzled, but recognizing the urgency of their tones and the palpable sense of something -wrong- that they carry with them. He hurries away and, soon enough, one of the highest ranking priests near to Morrow has arrived. Sister Eliza of the Elunite faith is an old and wise woman with a steely gaze. It is rumored she gets along fabulously with Greta.

She makes her way through the hallway before stopping in front of Rawsone and Darshan and giving them both the stink-eye, then over their shoulder towards the wagon. "Well now," she says, "I see you've been thoughtful enough to bring us a present."

Rawsone shrugs to Darshan, apparently content to allow the Elunites to bear the brunt of this problem. "Asked for Keeper Morrow," she comments, aiming for a neutral tone of voice, before gesturing behind her. "He Who Hungers' hammer," she explains. "Can't seem to so much as scratch it, even with adamantine."

"One fears we've brought you a house of troubles, Sister..." the edge of the muzzle twitches, and turns up sadly in an almost-smile, "It's our hope Morrow will know what to do with it. I--" The tail flickers, settles behind the saddle in his uneasy seat. Srassha's sidled away from the hammer, a half-step, and he lets her. He doesn't like being near it, either. "She has the right of it. This thing doesn't belong in this world." It doesn't belong anywhere.

"Keep Morrow is on a pilrgimage at the moment but should return in the next day or two, or so it is expected." But the words of what they've brought with them makes her blanch. "Goodness. You should have said so earlier. You say you can not destroy it? We will take it and see if we can discern how to erase it from existence. Such a blasphemous weapon must not be permitted to exist."

"Good," Rawsone says. Then, "Uh. How d'you want to move it? 'S really heavy. And...'s really...it kind of...well, just go touch it, and you'll see." For now, she leaves Rochanna hitched to the cart, in case they want the horses to bring it in further.

"I'm...not entirely sure. And it is best not handled by men! Ah, I know. Wait a moment.. And get your horses away." she waits for this to bes so.

Burdens you knew existed. Darshan trembles with the armor, and doesn't quite...relax...in the saddle, but he edges closer. "Sister, I would see this wiped off the face of existence," and the words don't get more honest than that. He looks back at Rawsone, too, and passes a hand through the frill. For a few moments, there's nothing to add to it. Srassha, though, moves gratefully out of the way.

Rawsone nods to the Sister, and then begins to unhook the horses, letting Rochanna go first before unhooking the others. "Get 'em away, Rochanna." The horses quickly disappear in the direction of Daeus' temple.

AS people move their horses back, Sister Eliza moves further into the temple, offering some commands. That's when a pair of statues animate from inside the temple and begin to make their way out towards the cart. There, together, they pick up the massive hammer. These great, guardian statues of the Temple of Eluna promptly lift the hammer up with ease compared to what a mortal might, suffering no immediate ill effect, but as the hammer moves, you can *hear* the howls again. Just tickling at the edges of your ears.

Sister Eliza winces.

"...what terrible secrets must've been delved into to give birth to this foul thing."

"I..." Darshan lowers his head and thinks on his answer, or maybe just the statement, itself. He shakes his head eventually and looks up towards the Sister. "I don't know, Sister, but if it helps--we could tell you how we came to find it. Or--" he looks towards Rawsone, and there's a smile there then, almost. "I might. The Huntress has children to tend to." Ones He Who Hungers tried to take away.

Rawsone's eyes widen. They need a couple of those at the Grove! Regardless, she stands well back as the statues do their work. "Don't know. Don't even want to think about it," she mutters in Sister Eliza's direction. "Important thing is it's safe now, and He Who Hungers can't hurt anyone else. Ever." A small shake of her head at Darshan. "Zak's with 'em." Well, he would've been, had they done this right after the fight, which...they would have. So.

"It isn't safe," warns Sister ELiza, shaking her head. "It won't be safe until we can destroy it. I will pray to Eluna this night and ask her for her Guidance. If we are lucky, perhaps, a more powerful agent of her's might be able to retrieve it and take it to a place where it can never again be used by man or giant." She grimaces, then pauses. "... I heard about your child," she says to Rawsone. "She speaks and walks while she sleeps, no?"

Rawsone hesitates. This wasn't something she expected to speak about. "...Yes," she says finally. "And...and she bit me. But she didn't turn or anything," she adds hastily. "I just...Danny said to take her to the Grove, so that's where she is. Was going to bring her here before he came."

Darshan shifts in his saddle, and he's frowning, suddenly. If a sith can look worried--well, they can, and Darshan's look partly translates into the human spectrum. The frill lifts, and flushes color, the mouth moves. "I..." he looks between the two of them. "Danny was bit, but they said he was cured. Sister...what do you know?" and he places the question before her as a child.

"He told me," says Eliza to Rawsone, then she says, "I believe that a doorway has been opened within her. It is not her fault. Whatever was done to her has left her dreams vulnerable to outside influences, I believe." She frowns. "I will need to see her sometime. The dreaming world is not one of my own areas of expertise, but it may be that of others. I will find out. But for now, you must watch her sleep closely. And listen to her carefully. There is truth in dreams." She frowns, then continues, "Another thing to blame He Who Hungers for, I suppose. The wound to her spirit may yet heal, in time.'

"Please...if there's anything you can do. Zak and I can pay, or...or whatever needs doing." Rawsone hugs herself, clearly distraught at the thought of being unable to do anything herself. "I can...when would you like me to bring her in?"

Darshan looks over at her, at both the hers. "Sister..." he takes a step towards the huntress, and stops, and looks towards the Elunite, instead. He's out of his realm, again. "...if I can help, I will," finally, simply.

"I will do what I can, I promise you that," says Eliza, shaking her head, "But it is not an easy thing to fix. This is not a broken body. It's a window. It may heal. It may not. There may be yet something that can be done about it. We will see. We will see. Mark my word that she will bear watching. Close watching. Especially if she's as precocious as she wounds."

Rawsone glances over at Darshan and gives him a brief, genuine smile of thanks before sobering at Eliza's words. "Will. We will watch her. Should I...want to see her when she's sleeping, or awake?" the ranger asks.

Darshan pauses, and looks down at the ground again. He's always out of his realm, it seems, and he looks back towards the two women and falls silent. The tail begins to move, slowly, at a thoughtful pace as he watches. And listens.

"You'll be able to tell," says Eliza, shaking her head. "But mostly, you'll wabnt someone to see if she stirs in her sleep. Her eyes will be...glassy. She will be less responsive to your voice, but still moving. It will be as if she is asleep and dreaming, yet awake in the world. Do you see how this can be dangerous? She may walk out a window or cut herself... or twist herself in some way. She is *vulnerable* when she is asleep."

"'S exactly how she is. And...and speaking in different languages?" Rawsone asks, sounding absolutely miserable. No wonder she looks as if she hasn't gotten much sleep lately. "But who's *doing* this?"

The sith'makar's tail lashes slowly, quickly, slowly...back and forth, and he looks thoughtfully over at Rawsone. The tail picks up, by a tic or two, until it lashes both directions and not just one. He drops down from Srassha's saddle, and walks over to stand nearby.

"It's everything and nothing," answers Eliza, shaking her head. "We don't *know*. Anything could reach through the wound and influence her, now. A spirit. A ghost. A wizard. An entity like He Who Hungers. The Agent of a God. A demon. Nothing at all. It could just happen *ambiently*. I don't know. She must be given time and she must be watched, but most importantly, you must keep things as stable as you can for her."

Well, that's what a paladin is. Darshan straightens underneath the armor, and looks quietly down at the huntress. For a while still he's silent, but there are auras and there are auras--the one Daeus blesses them with reduces fear, and he lets this bathe over, for any help it might give, or if it could even start to penetrate the thick fog a mother might feel. The tail flickers again. "...sometimes, the tribesfolk would be called in to sleep near the eggs before they hatched, or mrm, soon after. I can do this, priestess, for mrm, her and Ganesa both. I..." he halfway smiles, and it's a quiet, sad smile. "It's something that's nearly instinct, and one might tell them it's a sleepover. I could put up with that."

Rawsone hugs herself again. "'Ll sit up every night with her," she promises. "I'll...well, the hobgoblins like it better at night anyway, and...and gods." She breaks the hug to reach up and rub at her face. Then Darshan's talking, and she gives him another greatful smile. "'D appreciate it, Darshan, but...*really* not sure Ganesa should be over. Samantha might scare her, or..." a shake of her head. "'preciate it, though, and Zak will too."

He shrugs, then, thoughtful. It's slow and quiet, and he looks at her. "I'm sure she'll be safe with Zak, but..." the tail flickers. "Let me know if you need some rest. I should..." he trails off, and looks towards the Elunite priestess again, "...have some time coming up." Silence again, as he thinks, and turns the words over in his head. He turns then to regard Eliza, and the tail flickers again. "I have heard of scrying," he offers. Is what she describes like that? the question implies.

"Hmm, no. Not exactly. She is not seeing things that are actually happening. Chances are she won't remember it anymore than anyone remembers a dream beyond fragments," explains Eliza. "There's...incidents like this in the past." She does not seem willing to say much more on that count just yet. "Just watch her. Listen to what she says. And what she does. Those are the keys. Now, if you'll excuse me," she nods towards the stone guardians, "I have an artifact of great and malevolent power to attempt to destroy."

"...Thank you," Rawsone says, though it's a bit hollow. It's never good to get that sort of news about your children, even if they're really *not* your children. She'd probably rather have kept the hammer at her place than let Samantha be a seer. "Gilead bless," she murmurs.

The tail flickers again, silent comment. Darshan looks back towards Rawsone. "I'm tempted to stay," and there's silence again, as he lets go a breath. "Go home." It's a nudge, but a quiet, polite one. Go home. You have obligations. You can see to them. He looks back towards the temple.

GAME: You nominated rawsone for good roleplay.

Rawsone looks to Darshan, and then nods. "All right," she murmurs. Glancing around, she puts her fingers in her mouth to whistle for Rochanna, who was probably hoping to spend the night with the Daeusites. There's no immediate sign of the horse, but presumably she's coming with the others to take the cart back.

The makar lets go a breath he didn't know he was holding, and nods. Nods again as she starts to head home. And...looks towards the temple. He'll set up camp there, somewhere. They may as well try to move a rock. Okay, a very fat rock. If there's news by morning, he wants first word of it.

"Gilead bless," Rawsone murmurs, before walking toward Daeus' temple to intercept her horse.

An apple merchant yells, "Get that horse!"