[Priory] The Practiced Art of Healing, Featuring Arcana [Nimh]

[Esmé Xind'ell]

	First Brightening in the First Cycle in the Month of Optia, The Longest Winter Era II of the Celestine Mandate, Era XVI Post Fractum

Secrets : Originally Posted by Gossamer Priory of St. Ophelia Home of the Sisters of Mercy While the Church of Faith held court in the city of Diana, the heart and soul of the Empire resided in the shining capitol of Aelyria Prime. It was here that the holy Ancient Aelyrian guided by great Emperors and Empresses forged their insular society into a great, continent-spanning Empire. It is here that the very existence of the Imperial government stood testament to the sacrifice and bravery of a single Aelyrian warrior in the face of fear and chaos. Commoner and nobleman alike only needed to gaze towards the Student quarter to gaze at the tall stone spires and the stained glass windows of the Windibreeze Cathedral for a reminder of their faith. The Cathedral provided a place of worship for the rich and powerful whist also serving as the center of a vast web of local churches and chapels catering to the spiritual needs of the millions dwelling in Aelyria Prime’s walls. Directly to the left of the Cathedral stood a facility dedicated to the worldly care of the flock: the Alyssa Chrysinaria Memorial Hospital. Here the nurses, doctors, and mages tended to physical ills and pains of the needy regardless of political power or material wealth. The Empire existed to give eternal praise to Diana, and in its capitol She would be worshiped and exalted. Within sight of the Cathedral and the hospital was a walled compound housing a lesser known body of the Church of Faith. The Sisters of Mercy dwelled behind tall stone battlements hung with the black and red banners embroidered with the winged Aetherpike-on-shield emblem of their order. Entrance could only be gained through the heavy wooden doors and steel portcullis of a somber gatehouse. Two paladins stood guard over the entrance at all hours of the brightening while reinforcements waited inside the gatehouse. Armed sentries patrolled the walls either by the light of the suns or the pitch-soaked torch. Behind the gates lay a grass field large enough for a lance to practice maneuvers with room to spare. One stone pathway branched eastwards between the Basilica and the eastern buildings towards vegetable and herbal gardens. Another pathway branched west to practice grounds and sandpits. During the evening hours, the residents of the Students Quarter could often see the telltale flash of light as the paladins unleashed their remaining energies. The buildings and facilities of the Sisters of Mercy were clustered into three main groups: the Eastern Half, the Western Half, and the Basilica Proper. The Eastern Half housed the infrastructure necessary to support over a hundred warriors. Directly adjacent to the gardens were storehouses filled with enough food to survive several cycles of constant battle. Another housed the herbs, potions, bandages, and tools required to supply the infirmary and the Hospital during an emergency. The kitchens were filled with squires assigned to prepare the morning and evening meals for both the Sisters and any residents of the infirmary. While the duty was primarily the responsibility of new recruits, several paladins took an active interest in the preparation of foodstuffs. Another building housed the order’s warhorses and pack animals alongside a small collection of farm animals raised for their produce (or their meat). The most striking building in the Eastern Half was the Armory. Squires and paladins kept and cared for their own equipment in their dormitory rooms, but the Sisters kept a vast arsenal of weapons, armor, and equipment on hand in the case of dire circumstances. Attached to the armory was a warren of workshops for the armor and weapon smiths, blacksmiths, and the more production inclined members of the order. The Western Half housed the dormitories of the Sisters and their famous Infirmary. With the unexpected influx of resources after their near-destruction, the Sisters of Mercy had expanded their chapter house in Aelyria Prime to serve as their headquarters. Each paladin and squire shared a small room furnished with only the simplest of furniture and still there was room for a full three hundred full members. The dormitory buildings were arranged in a rectangle around a pleasant garden filled with flowers and trees. Next to the living quarters stood the hallmark of the order: the infirmary. The airy halls and rooms contained beds enough for a hundred fifty patients. In a case of an emergency, over twice that number could be squeezed into the room. The facility also boasted surgery and birthing rooms, rooms filled with every imaginable herb, and a nearly endless supply of bandages, basins, and other disposable items. Every Sister, from the newest Squire to the Grandmistress, practiced their healing craft in the infirmary or the nearby Hospital. As patients were generally not allowed to wander the grounds, the small garden in the Infirmary provided sunlight and fresh air. Directly in front of the gatehouse stood the namesake of the compound: the Basilica of St. Ophelia. The stone building was as majestic as it was functional. Amongst the beautiful stonework and statues of its exterior were dozens of arrow slits. Entrance into the foyer required passage through a long hallway lined with portcullis and murder holes. Those granted the great honor of entering the holy chapel spoke in hush whispered of its morbid beauty. In form and function, it resembled very much the chapel of a normal order of paladins. Pews allowed the entirety of the order to gather for worship services to Diana, their patron guardian. Stained glass windows allowed the light of day to illuminate the dark, cold interior. Doors on either side of the chapel allow entry into the library wings attached on each side of the chapel. But instead of gold and silver, the trappings of the Sisters of Mercy were forged from cold iron. Even the majestic visage of the winged Aelyrian goddess was cast from black steel. Banners bearing the winged Aetherpike atop the ornate shield hung from the roofs and the walls. They were truly majestic in their own right, but still paled in comparison to another feature. Skulls and bones of past members lined the walls of the chapels and filled the catacombs beneath. The near destruction of the Sisters of Mercy in the defense of Diana had forced the order to consolidate itself at a single location. Bodies of past members were exhumed and lovingly arranged on the walls. The bones of the recently fallen occupied a place of special honor around the pulpit and the flicking eternal flame lit in their memory. Visitors attempting to gain entrance to the Priory of St. Ophelia will be stopped and questioned by one of the paladins guarding the gates. After establishing their purpose, they will be escorted to their destination by another paladin. Curious interlopers are generally turned away whist those in need of medical attention are given the utmost attention. Services and Goods The Sisters of Mercy operate an infirmary that, at the very least, ranks equal to the Alyssa Chrysinaria Memorial Hospital. They will treat any petitioners free of charge, but will detain any obvious criminals until the Prefect can be contacted. In the very rare case that they lack the facilities or ability to handle an illness, the patient will be transferred to the Hospital. While the Sisters are an order of Paladins and thus boast a number of mages, magical healing is generally reserved for life threatening injuries only. A broken leg, for instance, will result in a several cycle long convalescence and not an instant spell except in the rarest of circumstances. Donations for care are gratefully accepted. Most of the order’s income comes from the Imperial and city governments in compensation for their charity work (and service in times of conflict). The Sisters will barter or sell their goods to hospitals and healers, but will never ask for more than is necessary to cover material costs. Weapons and armor are never for sale. Conversely, the Sisters do make a large number of purchases to supply their armory and storehouses. While the Sisters do not advertise their expertise in the persecution of all things Chaotic, they will offer aid to authorities and righteous individuals confronted with the forces of the Aeternians. Most of this aid comes in the form of information from their library or aid through their Church contacts. In very rare cases, when the leadership deems it appropriate, one or more Paladins may be dispatched to destroy menace. NPCs Grandmistress Lily Yisabelle Chaplain Teresa DiMyer Chaplain Selene Le’synstral Chaplain Kris Lain Chaplain Isabelle Medicis Paladin Christina Le’beau Factoids Information on the Sisters of Mercy

Esmé walked with hurried steps towards the Priory of Saint Ophelia, her sole reason for being in Aelyria Prime this cycle. She was in a hurry not just because she was eager to learn but also because it was cold outside; it was not as cold as it had been over a month ago now but it was still winter, very much so. Esmé pulled her silver cloak around her tighter, and pinched the cowl around her face so that the cold wind could not come in and nip her angular, delicate nose. Her hands were clothed in a dark purple fabric that matched her dress, but that was hidden underneath the embroidered cloak.

The Priory was not the most inviting place in all of Telath, but perhaps that was just how Esmé interpreted the cold, imposing grey stone of the battlements. Despite that the women here were healers, they were also warriors and this place was definitely a place ready to face war. It was the opposite of Esmé, who was more like a flower and was coming here not to learn the art of maiming and destroying but to learn the art of healing and curing. The more she thought about it the more she realized that this place was like the embodiment of her and Riconus' personal ideals: her the healer and him the warrior. Esmé was glad that she had come here as opposed to studying somewhere else.

The youthful, blue-skinned Quel'anthasan approached the guardhouse somewhat apprehensively; it was not as if she had done anything wrong but with each step she took this place felt more and more imposing. It made her feel small and insignificant but at the same time welcome. These women were here to help after all. Esmé shook her head, and a few tendrils of purple hair spilled out, bouncing free and happily.

As Esmé approached the first guard she dropped the cowl of her cloak so that the guards could see her face as she spoke. The winter's air hit her hard in the face and her face scrunched and eyes squinted a bit. By the love of Carmelya and the magic of Phedos, she was ready for spring. Esmé approached the first guard and greeted her in her thickly accented common, "Bonjour madam, I am 'ere to eenquire about learning zee art of Thaumaturgy. I vas vondering eef zhat vas possible and 'oo I should talk to about zhat. Could you 'elp me, s'il vous plait?" Her amethystine eyes twinkled kindly.

[Nimh]

The guard studied Esmé thoughtfully for a moment, then launched a faint smile across her features and gestured. "You'll need to talk to Grandmistress Yisabelle about learning such as that. Come with me. I'll see if she'll meet with you. It's possible she won't," she warned, but it was a gentle warning backed only slightly with a bit of steel behind her words. She turned and called over to another guard, who nodded and slipped out to maintain the vigil that the guard would just be briefly abandoning.

She led Esmé up to the front doors, but her the escort duty stopped, for she introduced Esmé to a squire that dipped a courtesy bow towards the purple-haired elf, her features a little grave in comparison to the kind smile of the guard who had first met her. Then inward they went and Esmé found herself led to the Grandmistress' offices and deposited upon a seat in a small waiting space, the doors shut to the offices themselves. Everything was neatly arranged, nothing out of space, no speck of dust to be seen. It was also utilitarian in set up, as if she spurned lavish decor.

At length the woman herself appeared, dressed simply in neat white trousers and a blue tunic pulled over a white, long-sleeved shirt. She wore only a dagger at her hip and moved not so much with authority--although it was clear she had it--but with a calm serenity that shrouded the room in a peace all its own. She stopped outside of the doors that led into her office and looked curiously upon Esmé. This woman was human, in her middling ordinances, and was still well-muscled despite her age.

Calm and open though she might have been, there was a slight measure of reservation about her as she regarded Esmé. "Serale, I was informed you had come to speak to me of thaumaturgy lessons." She paused, certain of herself, but less so of the elf's intentions. "Generally that is something reserved to those who wish to join our order."

[Esmé Xind'ell]

Esmé had one of the most sincerely and genuinely kind hearts in all of the kingdom of Aelyria, so she matched the guard's faint smile with a broad one of her own. She respected these women and if Esmé were stronger she would perhaps try to join their ranks. But Esmé was not physically strong, she was sure that just one piece of their heavy, cumbersome armor would be enough to break her. So she was trying to assist the general populace in other ways: with her mind and her words. But she still wished to be able to physically heal others in times of need. Phedos knew that Esmé's husband might need it.

The young Quel'anthasan followed the guard through the battlements and stone, eager to meet the Grandmistress Yisabelle. Esmé' overly optimistic mind did not, and perhaps could not, harbor the notion that she would be turned down for this course. So the purple-haired Trelorean walked along with a pretty smile painted on her lips and a glow in her heart. Esmé returned the curtsy of the guard with one of her own and then sat down in one of the seats waiting for the Grandmistress.

Amethystine eyes darted around the room; it was what would have been expected from a woman who led this order: neat, organized, nothing to the excess. Esmé found it quite satisfactory. But when the woman entered, presumably Grandmistress Yisabelle, Esmé jumped lightly but quickly to her feet and greeted her with a formal and respectful curtsy, "Bonjour Grandmistress Yisabelle." The woman impressed her, the strength and calmness she possessed made her command respect without having to scream for it. Esmé was enthralled.

The smile on Esmé's face faded a shade or two when Yisabelle mentioned that that instruction was typically only available to women who had wished to join their order. She had not been expecting that, not at all. "Eet ees zee reason vhy I 'ave come 'ere, oui. I 'ave 'eard of your good vork, and eet 'as impressed me." Esmé did not add a sunny smile to this, she was not trying to flatter herself in, "And eet 'as partially inspired me to vant to 'elp as vell. I do not zhink zhat I vill ever be able to assist like you and zhis order does, but I can fight vith my words and my mind. I am a politician, you see. But I also vanted to learn 'ow to 'eal so I could 'elp more. I vas 'oping you could 'elp me learn? Ees eet possible?" Her amethystine eyes twinkled with curiosity.

[Nimh]

The Grandmistress inclined her cheek with a slight nod of her head as she listened to Esmé and yet the features did not give way to a wide and welcoming smile. Hers was one of polite kindness, if somewhat distant. Her brow furrowed somewhat, listening to Esmé's accent and when she spoke again, it was in Esmé's native Charismean, perhaps no longer wishing to hear her main tongue so mangled. "Possible? It would be an oddity, mademoiselle, but not wholly impossible. I admit to curiosity over the matter of why you chose to come here rather than seeking lessons at the Academy. Perhaps it is that you do not wish to constrict yourself so formally to an academic setting? And yet perhaps you think I would ask something less of you, should you seek lessons here?" The woman's slight smile had shifted down into a frown.

"Come in and sit down, then. We will discuss this in a fashion that is more comfortable. Perhaps with tea." She gestured for Esmé to follow her into the office wherein she rang a small bell, summoning a slim young girl in uniform, making her request for tea known. Once the girl had gone on her way, Lily sat down behind her desk, leaving this a formal sitting rather than relaxed. She scooted her chair in so that her legs were properly tucked under the desk and rested her folded hands on the surface of the desk.

"Now, you say you have heard of our work and thus the reason for your approach here. However, I would need a good reason to teach someone who does not wish to stay on. In a way, my investment of you would yield me little more than time wasted, time I could have spent with those who will remain in my fold, who will continue to grow before my eyes and become the women I have trained them to be. But...not you. You would take my training and leave. That, to me, is not a fair exchange."

Here she smiled faintly and straightened in her seat. "Do not think that I do not look highly on your wish to help and heal, mademoiselle. Indeed it is highly commendable, a rare thing in youth these brightenings. However, you must understand where I am coming from, non? Time poorly invested is time poorly wasted. What is it you think you could give me in exchange for my time? Something that would make it worth my while?" It would come down to that. Esmé would have to convince the woman to spend her time on someone who would not stay within the Grandmistress' order.

[Esmé Xind'ell]

The Grandmistress' demeanor spoke loudly enough for how she achieved the rank she was; it was quite clear that she was a woman who did not take two steps idly, everything was subject to her scrutiny. This was something that Esmé admired, even if her actions did not always reflect as much resolve. Her thickly-lashed amethystine eyes blinked once, she was somewhat surprised at the woman's reception and reaction, but also, especially on a moment's pause's reflection, realized the validity of it. She rose silently, pensive for a fraction of a candlemark, and followed the woman into her office. Esmé sat opposite of her at the desk.

The Grandmistress had made it clear enough that it was not impossible, but also very unlikely. But it seemed she also harbored some misconceptions about why Esmé sought training here, with these disciplined women, and not elsewhere, at the academy perhaps. Esmé folded her fragile, thin hands in her lap and listened patiently as the Yisabelle spoke, her pointed ears perked and to attention to all that she had said.

It was only after Esmé was sure that Grandmistress Yisabelle was finished speaking did Esmé raise her own voice in response. Her voice, when spoken, was light and airy but also slower than usual, as if her lips were holding on to each word she spoke, thinking about they and shaping them carefully before releasing them to the round ears of Yisabelle. "Vhat you say ees completely true, but eef you vould listen to me for a moment, per'aps I could explain my rationale."

Esmé's amethyst orbs made consistent eye contact while she spoke, something she felt that was important, "I see vhy eet ees not prudent to take me as a pupil eef I am not 'ere to serve zee order further after my training ees complete. 'owever, I vant to say zhat I chose to come 'ere over zee academy because you and your order actually serve zee 'elpless, you do good. Zee academy is a place for intellectuals, zheir use of arcana ees academic and, I feel, more for zheir own personal uses. I vant to use my arcane abilities to 'elp ozzers, like you and your order 'ave. Coin ees not an issue, a donation to 'elp you do vhat you do vould be a given, so eet ees not because of a lack of funding zhat I 'ave come here."

The young Quel'anthasan gave pause again, and she tucked a lock of purple hair behind her tapered ear, "But zhat does not solve zee issue, non? Per'aps we could arrange somevay vhere I am not just gone after my training? I zhink zhat I vould be little 'elp to you in zee standard sense," Esmé paused to raise one arm; it was slender, lithe, and showed not a sign of an ounce of the physical strength that the women here must posses, "You see, Madame, I vas not blessed vith physical strength, so veilding a sword might prove to put ozzers in 'arm's vay, not 'elp zhen. But I am a politician, or razzer, an aspiring one. My mind is my strongest muscle. Per'aps I could be in service to your order in anozzer vay? I could swear fealty to you and your order and be at your service, eef you eevr need it. Zhat vay zee training vould not be in vain. Ees zhere anyzhing zhat you need a bookish, elven woman for?" Esmé smiled, trying to warm the situation. She was being honest, a good policy in Esmé's books; her strength would not help Yisabelle but she could help in other ways. Fiscally or otherwise.

[Nimh]

Yisabelle listened to Esmé's continued plea, the desire to train in this place rather than an academy. While Yisabelle's expression was polite and attentive, it did not seem to switch into instant understanding. They had rules and they really weren't getting anything out of Esmé by training her. A waste. She sighed, inclining her cheek slightly. "I can understand that the incentive and desire for you to train here is strong. I can appreciate it and thank you for the care and thought that you have given towards our own establishment. However, it simply remains: We would gain nothing from training you. We are looking for people who will go out and put down the bad influences that have spread throughout the realm."

She paused, sipped idly at her tea. "If we asked you to stay here among us and research the evils of the world, would you?" She fit her eyes on Esmé. "As I understand it, that might conflict strongly with your desire to politic. We would ask that you remain here, to be one us. Could you give up your livelihood? Could you give up what you had begun to do to come be here with us in exchange for your training?"

She gestured as she set her tea aside. "I will not take your money. It is somewhat demeaning, given the nature of our association. Instead, I'll ask you to choose between the following: Come and study here with us, study our archives in search of threats that we might excise...or, in the event that you find yourself with a daughter sometime in your long life, send her here to us to be trained and adopted into our household so that she might do what you say you cannot do."

She turned keen eyes on Yisabelle. How much did Esmé desire her training? What was she willing to give up in exchange for learning how to heal and administer those who needed her? "I'm afraid that will be our terms, mademoiselle. Stay here with us or give up the right to your first born daughter. To you it might seem unjust, but we need an investment for our tutelage...we need to know that we won't be doing you a service for nothing in return."

[Esmé Xind'ell]

Esmé bit her lip, and gently chewed on it for a moment. She needed to think. This woman drove a hard bargain, but it was backed up by impeccable logic that, even if Esmé did not agree completely with, was hard to refute. But what was the price of being able to help the helpless. Her husband? Her livelihood? Her future child? No. The notion of giving her daughter made her sick, it was almost an insult. That was not her life to give. Esmé's teeth released her lip and her crystalline eyes darted up, "Vell, I can say no to one zhing right now. I vill not promise to send my daughter. I vould be 'onored if I 'ad a daughter 'oo made zee decision to come dedicate 'er life to your order, but zhat ees not my decision to make." Esmé was firm on this. She could never do that.

Now could Esmé give herself? Possibly, it just depended how much and how so. "Now coming 'ere to study ees somezhing zhat I could do, but I do not mean to insult you, do you mean as permanent place of residence? Per'aps I could come 'ere to study one cycle a month, and zhen study een Jaedaxia as vell, and any ozzer city I travel too. Could zhere be somevay zhat I join your order as a traveling agent? I do not mean to circumvent your deal, I only vist to understand zee particulars of eet. Vould eet be possible to do zhat? Seeking out zee evils of zee vorld and zhen reporting eet back to you and zhen also spend one cycle a month studying 'ere and 'elping 'ere. Vhat do you zhink of zhat? Does eet grossly out step vhat you 'ad een mind?"

Esmé was not a rude creature, hopefully their short meeting had proven that so far. Her questions were poised so that she could get more information and try and work out a deal that did benefit the order and also made it possible for Esmé to accept. If she had to come here permanently, there would be nothing she could do but decline. But the thought of working with the order, a thought that had not even occurred to her, thrilled her. To work with these women to help eradicate evil sounded like a challenge, but something she wanted to do.

[Nimh]

The woman regarded her steadily, a frown set on her features. Slowly, she shook her head. "I don't think you take this nearly as seriously as I do." She rose from her chair and turned towards a window in the room, striding towards it, hands clasped behind her back, in thought and stern, her back stick straight and her chin inclined slightly. She said nothing for a long length of time, evidently mulling through her own options and clearly not biting at the one that Esme herself had presented.

"This is not a side hobby. This is a life choice. Not one woman has stepped through the gates of this establishment with the opportunity to set restrictions and limitations on what she gets out of this facility. It's that which I do not think you understand. These women give their lives to this cause that we have, their lives, their memories, their moments. And you would choose only to give them periodically and, I believe, when it suits you. That will not work with us."

She turned to regard Esme with a stern eye. Unyielding. She would take nothing less from Esme than the other women of her order had given her.

"This will be the only other opportunity I give you to join our cause: You will spend one month here during your first visit. You will spend it learning the sphere you wish to learn, our ways of life, our very fabric of being, our expectations of one another and our order. You will be made, in that month, one of our order. Understand that I am granting you something of a reprieve from the strenuous lengths of time that others would spend learning to get into our order, but they learn weapons and you have clearly indicated that you have no wish to do so." She paused, eying Esme to see her reaction so far. Then continued. "One month in our hallways and then every other month from here on out you will return here for no less than three cycles, reporting to us the activities that you have found in other cities and provinces, receiving further education in our order and obtaining further instruction on what we wish of you."

She folded her arms across her chest. "I will not let you make a side hobby of this venture. It will be this or nothing at all."

[Esmé Xind'ell]

Esmé listened carefully, and without protestation, as the Grandmistress Yisabelle spoke, a slight frown on her face that only grew deeper with each word she spoke. It was logical and made sense, the argument to the contrary, and it was hard to press a point when the argument was so logical. Needless to say that Esmé was disappointed. When it was clear that the woman had finished, Esmé looked up at her, her face set and showed no hint of sorrow for she had resigned to the fact that this was impossible. This training was impossible here anyways, she would have to go else where.

Esmé rose, "Vell I tzhink zee matter ees settled. As much as I sincerely vish I could agree to zhose terms because I vould be incredibly 'onored to serve under you and beside all of zhese vomen, eet ees just not possible. I 'ave a child on zee vay zhat must be cared for and a career as a politician blooming zhat I 'ope I can use to the advantage of the Jaedaxian people. I do 'ope you realize zhat I do take zhis as seriously as you do. I do." Esmé's tone was firm and she held the woman's gaze. Despite that Esmé looked younger, she was actually much older, "Making zhis an 'obby vas never my intention, I only vanted to 'elp people and I zhought zhat training 'ere vould best make me capable of zhat. But I can, and shall, go else where. I thank you for your time."

Esmé was a bit annoyed, she did not like the implication that she came here because she thought it would be better. This was an order that was supposed to be dedicated to helping people, but it seemed more focused on training its own. Surely training outsiders so they could do good with the knowledge was a good thing as well. But it could not be helped, the woman had made her decision and Esmé could not force her to change it. All the Quel'anthasan could do was wait to be shown out and listen to whatever response the Grandmistress had.