Xenofos — Orlanth
????, Fire Season, Illusion Week
Context
Fire Season, Illusion Week, Freezeday. [[[s01:session-41|Session 41]]]
Events
There is an open-air Temple of Orlanth in Wilmskirk, a big one in which, even on a clear day in Fire season, there is a touch of shadow to bring relief from Yelm’s darts.
There is also an inn where Xenofos was resting a few days before.
Xenofos leaves the house of Chalana Arroy dressed in just his tunic. Shakily he heads towards the inn.
The inn trades at the Sign of the Coin, a round clay extrusion on its wall giving some truth to its name.
The innkeeper – name unknown as yet – gives Xenofos a dark, dark look. The act of tasting beer stops. He puts down his cup.
“I believe my kit is here, as well as my horses?” Xenofos meets the publican’s look evenly.
“You owe for three days, and the cleaning of your room.” The stare continues.
“In lunars?”
“Two.” It’s an outrageous sum.
Xenofos drops four lunars to the table. ” Please do send message to temple of Orlanth to Stormvoice Falnin that Xenofos of Saiciae is leaving town, wishes to settle his matters and is coming to visit him quite soon.”
“My belongings? In the room?”
The man looks down and grudgingly nods. A child is called for before he replies, “It’s closed off. We punched a hole in the roof to clear it. Boy, go get the man’s things before you run to Orlanth.” Boy gives you an adenoidal look and slumps off to go do some carrying.
When the stuff arrives Xenofos armours up, checks his weapons and writings and quietly also whether he has been robbed while in slumber.
The drugs have all gone, and his things seem to have been searched, but apart from a couple of missing ink sticks, there is nothing absent that should be present. The weapons are still sharp. Nothing is quite as he left it, but everything is there. Except those damned ink sticks.
“My apologies for incovenience to your roof” with a curt nod Xenofos walks to the stables and packs excess gear on spare horse. He saddles the other one and leads both towards the temple with determined stride.
The innkeeper just nods, and turns away, nothing more to say.
The boy has reached the church in time to warn Falnin, who is there waiting, resplendent behind his beard.
Xenofos ties the reins of his horses to a ring and greets the Orlanthi.
“I am Xenofos of Saiciae”
The man folds his hands in front of him and says, “Well come, Lord Xenofos, Landholder and sworn Thegn.” He has done his homework.
“I was told you hold name of my liege lady as pledge of my conduct. I am here to redeem that pledge.”
“Come walk with me, Scribe.” He gestures to a labyrinth in the shape of many Air Runes, laid out on the floor so that one end points to Kero Fin.
A nod. Xenofos lets the man lead him into the labyrinth vaguely reminding him of his dreams.
A gentle breeze follows them. “You have disobeyed a law that keeps our warriors strong,” says Falnin. “Your commander attests to your character and bravery, but bravery falls away when hazia enters.”
“That disobeyance I have committed. And will accept your judgement.”
“There is a fine of two and a half wheels, already paid. If you wish for a public trial it may be less. This is the price laid on nobility for such a transgression.” Falnin says it lightly, like the income from a hide for a year is of little thought to him.
“I wish no delay, so I will not contest the fine. Moreso since Truth is I used the sap. But who has paid this fine?”
“Your Lord, Vareena.” His accent is very Sartarish, caressing the odd vowels of the northern pronunciation.
Nod. Silence. “I see… I heard others of our company were fined also. Who? For what and how much?”
“The Unicorn Witch, Nala, opposed a man in his duty to Sartar and has accepted she must do service to a Temple of Orlanth within a year. The man who opposed her struck at her but did no harm, but there was no fine. The Storm Bull Rajar was fined forty Lunars for striking a blow that might kill, but this was reduced to a tenth part, as the Unicorn Witch caused her mount to heal him, and it was judged instead as a harming blow, in aid of a friend. Both were spoken for by companions.” The breeze is always at their backs as they walk.
Another nod. “Is this service commutable to other person or fine in silver?”
“No. She will attend and serve an Orlanthi Temple for one week, within the year.” Falnin pronounces it serenely.
Xenofos nods to that too. “If that is Law so be it.”
“It is. But your fine is paid and if you do not wish to contest it, you may go.”
“And pledge of my lady has been fulfilled?”
“You may tell her it is.”
“Then I thank you for justice and ride after my liege and her companions.”
Falnin bows his head. “Go well, with clean Air in you.”
With a curt, polite bow Xenofos turns and strides to his horse.
