Church of Ilmater RP

[zhazz]

Adrian is seen spending time at the Ilmateri temple as well. Most of that time is spent beside Lylan, whether Niyressa is there or not. Though he often encourages her to go get some rest, while he watches over Lylan. Following Niyressa's advice he talks often to Lylan, keeping his voice low. When Niyressa is awake and by Lylan's side, Adrian does spend some time with both Derik and Osric too.

[DaloLorn]

The Selunite air genasi doesn't spend much time in the infirmary herself, preferring to occupy herself with any tasks that might free up more of the Ilmatari healers' time to tend to the wounded. Still, when she's free, she does try to check up either on the casualties or their visiting friends, offering whatever words of comfort and reassurance she can still string together.

She seems to somewhat regret not having been there for the battle at Boareskyr, though she doesn't try very hard to pretend her presence might have meaningfully altered the outcome, acknowledging that it was probably better she was at the Gate.

[Ashenie]

As the Sanctuary seems to welcome wounded with grevious injuries, there is little respite left for the Sister. Her endeavors unchanged, she seems to remain dutiful in the observation and renewal of the treatment. Balms are prepared for the many people that come to support and offer healing to the wounded. Sometimes, a written message shows appreciation and gratitude, beyond what words can say. Others have a hesitant and trembling handwriting, with a handprint or a drawing to sign the endeavor of orphaned children who likely wished to show support.

Along the balms, poultices and infusions are always indications in how to apply and deliver them. The help of many seem greately appreciated. When nights or times of respite come, the quiet Sister seems to pray in the chapel, or return to the Orphanage. She often comes back with drawings made with children. Peaceful, and dedicated, she spends time near the wounded, sometimes offering them hushed words of support when time allows.

[Kaden Asen]

Though missing no parts Sean is clearly amongst the wounded from the recent battle. His left arm is splinted against his chest and his head heavily bandaged. Though recovering under the expert care of the temple his speech and manner is clearly dulled and at times slurred.

The night watch visitors and tenders would also note he rarely sleeps.

[Anrilor]

The red-maned Heartwarder, after long days of voulenteerism in the Shrine of Suffering with all the wounded from the death of the Lord of Murder, felt finally relieved as the last of the unconsious people started waking up, the worst of the injured recovering well, a sense of relief finally were seen on her features. After a quiet talk with Sister Ashenie, she comes back after a few candlemarks to post a job offer for those that come seeking aid or work, with permission to post it on the messenger board.

To the lost, the needy, the suffering, To those strong in arm looking for a second chance, and those afraid that there is no tomorrow.

I know I have left messages and flyers around the city, asking for laborers and none answered the call. I understand, this is the worst calamity you have ever faced. This pales in comparison to the blight, famines, devils and demons, wars, and even Tiamat and Bhaal besiging the city. The gods have fallen, dying, and have gone silent, magic grows wild and dies, blood rains from the skies, the earth upheaves and shakes, threatening your very foundations, friends, lovers, and neighbors have vanished in service to a god dying to remove evil from the world. Its natural to believe there is nothing but the end of days ahead, but the world has survived such once before, long before and nearly forgotten to most's memories and remain only in dusty tomes of history. Once before, the world threatened to end, floating cities in the skys once crashed down and fell from the failure of magic, men were driven to madness, lush lands turned to deserts seemingly over night, people vanished beyond the vale without warning or cause. But our ancestors survived, and eventually we came to this world, one they forged and had hope for. They worked and lived together to see a world reborn, where they could once again live their lives in peace and prosperity, and so our old world was born out of that hope and effort.

So I ask you, those who have sacrificed much each and every year, as challenge after challenge strikes this city, your neighbors, your loved ones, your families, to have faith, that this too will pass, and it will pass through our own strength and determination to see a tomorrow, a next week, a next month, a next year, another generation. That a world unmade, will not unmake us. Through generosity, kindness, humility, compassion, duty, and hard work, we will help lift up and clean up the scars of a world undone, and from that fresh slate, make a new world, by our own hands, one that we choose and create through our own will for our own futures. One filled with beauty, kindness, generosity, and love. One worth continuing step by step, day by day, month by month, fighting for.

I ask for your aid, in removing the scar upon our city, that reminds us each and every day, how swiftly and destructive this challenge is. That of my own Halls of Inner light, still remains in ruins, the smaller ruins removed, but work is needed to clear the rest of it. I am not asking you to aid me in rebuilding such, but simply take back some semblance of that which the calamity has taken from this city. To stand in defiance of the chaos that besets us each and every day, to take our lives, and our city back from the brink, and erase the wound from our city. You'll be paid fair hourly wage, for the strength of your arms and the hard labor, to feed yourselves and your families each day until the work is complete.

For those of you that answer the call, to stand in defiance of the calamity, that wish to build a brighter future of your own designs, or simply earn a good wage for honest work in these uncertain chaotic times, please leave message for me here, with one of the attendees of this fair and dedicated temple, and we will, together, build our future from the ashes of the old.

Heartwarder, Alyssia Leonhart

Hidden: show

To the lost, the needy, the suffering, To those strong in arm looking for a second chance, and those afraid that there is no tomorrow.

I know I have left messages and flyers around the city, asking for laborers and none answered the call. I understand, this is the worst calamity you have ever faced. This pales in comparison to the blight, famines, devils and demons, wars, and even Tiamat and Bhaal besiging the city. The gods have fallen, dying, and have gone silent, magic grows wild and dies, blood rains from the skies, the earth upheaves and shakes, threatening your very foundations, friends, lovers, and neighbors have vanished in service to a god dying to remove evil from the world. Its natural to believe there is nothing but the end of days ahead, but the world has survived such once before, long before and nearly forgotten to most's memories and remain only in dusty tomes of history. Once before, the world threatened to end, floating cities in the skys once crashed down and fell from the failure of magic, men were driven to madness, lush lands turned to deserts seemingly over night, people vanished beyond the vale without warning or cause. But our ancestors survived, and eventually we came to this world, one they forged and had hope for. They worked and lived together to see a world reborn, where they could once again live their lives in peace and prosperity, and so our old world was born out of that hope and effort.

So I ask you, those who have sacrificed much each and every year, as challenge after challenge strikes this city, your neighbors, your loved ones, your families, to have faith, that this too will pass, and it will pass through our own strength and determination to see a tomorrow, a next week, a next month, a next year, another generation. That a world unmade, will not unmake us. Through generosity, kindness, humility, compassion, duty, and hard work, we will help lift up and clean up the scars of a world undone, and from that fresh slate, make a new world, by our own hands, one that we choose and create through our own will for our own futures. One filled with beauty, kindness, generosity, and love. One worth continuing step by step, day by day, month by month, fighting for.

I ask for your aid, in removing the scar upon our city, that reminds us each and every day, how swiftly and destructive this challenge is. That of my own Halls of Inner light, still remains in ruins, the smaller ruins removed, but work is needed to clear the rest of it. I am not asking you to aid me in rebuilding such, but simply take back some semblance of that which the calamity has taken from this city. To stand in defiance of the chaos that besets us each and every day, to take our lives, and our city back from the brink, and erase the wound from our city. You'll be paid fair hourly wage, for the strength of your arms and the hard labor, to feed yourselves and your families each day until the work is complete.

For those of you that answer the call, to stand in defiance of the calamity, that wish to build a brighter future of your own designs, or simply earn a good wage for honest work in these uncertain chaotic times, please leave message for me here, with one of the attendees of this fair and dedicated temple, and we will, together, build our future from the ashes of the old.

Heartwarder, Alyssia Leonhart

[DaloLorn]

As the gods return to their domains, a subtle relief could be observed in Nelee's mannerisms over the days that followed. Though the elevation of her spirits is less obvious and more subdued than might be observed in some of the other denizens of the Gate, it is still clearly visible in her stance and attitude: A sense of vindication, perhaps, of her stated faith that the gods would ultimately save the world... or perhaps just relief at the fact that people will no longer be harmed by the chaos.

However, it is only after word reaches her of Mystra's resurrection and the restoration of the Weave that the Selunite's activities begin to change more overtly. After she confirms that her magical items return to full power outside the city walls, she quickly ventures northward with a renewed sense of purpose...

[DaloLorn]

Upon her return to the Gate, Nelee initially seems hesitant to return to the dead magic zone within the city walls. However, after resting awhile at one of the campsites in the Outer City, she eventually comes to some kind of realization about the source of her worries, and heads straight for the Ilmatari temple.

[Louvaine]

A pack containing two bags of gold and a note claiming that Katherina sends her regards could have been found tossed by the doors to the temple. It's likely it had been found by someone who considered themselves in more need than the children would ever be.

[Ashenie]

Quiet in the night, silent prayers are whispered and lullabies sung in the Ossuary of the Shrine of the Suffering. Sister Ashenie kneels near the table where the Revered Father Marcus finds repose, unmoving, in silent contemplation of the old man. The night dies without another word, scriptures of the Faith revered in his name. As the morning light pierces through the old windows of the shrine, the body is tended, and anoited with deepest care to prepare the funerals.

Any who would come to the shrine to honor the dead man would be led down to the Ossuary.

[ValerieJean]

Gaven Arkalis and Maevyn Edgar upon hearing the news of Father Marcus traveled to the Temple of Ilmater and down into the Ossuary, to pay their respects, offer prayer, and flowers.

[selhan]

Diseased



Within the wooden structure of the Ilmater infirmary units, four bodies dangerously sick laid in beds with buckets filled with blood coughed out from each patient. Some spillage missed it's mark and shot onto the floor near the beds. Brows covered in feverish sweats, that dripped and soaked pillows and mattresses. Faint groans and rough coughs filled the air with echo's. The coppery smell of blood was thick. A man wanting to check upon the ones he knew as friends and acquaintances and even patrons, carelessly had gotten too close.



For after the sacrifice of the many elves that fell victim to pirates. Word had spoke of a confrontation between the Broken Goblets bruiser and some green flesh tiefling. The tiefling had attacked but the employees of the Goblet as well as its frequent patrons came together to fight off the threat. However before the tiefling died by the hands of the known Bruiser and the well known Minstrel, a curse of Talona was casted forth covering a wide range of a diseased cloud that rendered everyone near to a bloody vomiting sickness.



"…. my betrothed as arriv *coughs* arrived.." *Coughs*

"You're an idiot"

"Idiot?..Perhaps next time when I say leave..you do so immediately" *He glances down at the pool of blood that had missed its intended bucket*

"..The... *coughs*...bastard attacked when we were about to. Vol and him fought..*coughs*.."

"Shush, I already heard...Rest Is the Priestess about?"

"I'd never leave that imbecile alone, nor you. But more were hit by that disease. I heard them behind us, coughing, getting out of their corners...You should... check Roaringshore. Those who got the disease might spread it..."

*He blinks then steps back slowly* "Fok....Its contagious?"

What ever plague or diseased or sickness that placed them in such the state, had transmitted to him for simply being at a few arms length.. It wasn't long before he too stood there feeling feverish, and vomiting blood. An Immediate thought overwhelmed him and he had to quickly leave to give warning before it was too late..



He later returned, weaker, and more feverish, and the temple was out of beds. Had it not been the former patron of his, he would not had even gotten the bedroll. Later the two spoke while the rest that were directly effected from the greenish cloud of curse had soon fallen into a deep and uncomforting sleep.

"Some of us had started to build a life there ,..or did your dragon make you forget us?"

"I didn't forget anyone... I just couldn't keep going on turning a blind eye to the evils of the place...and that was going to get me killed."

" Am I to leave the Goblet? Walk away..."

"How many times the Shore been burned and raided and the Goblet is still there"

"The Goblet is more than a bar"

"Maybe it is ..but your loyalty to that place is dangerous for your health...and that of those who are loyal to you. From what I hear this isnt exactly new ..the Shore coming under fire because of foolish piking pirates... if its not the elves it will just be something else. You are always going to have trouble knocking at your door in that place."

"Aye..but prehaps I'll at least have me rum and lass" *A chuckle that turned into a bloody cough*

"Speakin ol that....find her..tell her what happened"

[DaloLorn]

The infirmary sees no shortage of peculiar visitors today. The half-elven transmuter moonlighting as an assistant at the Bibliotheca came first, paying particular attention to an afflicted sorceress from House Divine. Using advanced transmutations to assume the forms of small constructs and similar disease-immune entities, he spent some time trying to make her more comfortable until she fell asleep.

This did not always go exactly as planned: The woman's delirious resistance to his attempt to return her to her bed after a brief visit to the patient next to her only exacerbated the clumsiness of one of his chosen forms, and he inadvertently cut into her back before he could finish. However, he was able to convince her to take a healing potion, and remained for the few moments it took for her to fall asleep afterwards. When he returned later, he would be bearing a bottle of rum for the Goblet bartender and a bottle of winter wine for Lady Netanya.

Shortly after the half-elf's initial departure, Virin could be seen entering the infirmary and briefly speaking to the stricken bartender. Despite his warnings, she seemed unconcerned about the disease, claiming to have put on a disease-preventing belt in response to warnings from the person who sent her there. However, when he demanded rum, she rushed back out... and by the time she returned, she found the man asleep, and elected to simply leave the bottle by his bedside...

[Strago]

The warrior-monk known to many as Karai would be a constant sight for those visiting the infirmary. She arrived shortly after a group of sick friends and refused to leave them. Spending every waking moment doing what she can to bring them comfort and only leaving their side long enough to get a little rest in a quiet corner before returning to continue helping out.

[DaloLorn]

Although the transmuter's visits would tend to be limited by his ability to maintain construct form, he would likewise do whatever he thought appropriate to try and help the sick... though his efforts still favored the sorceress somewhat over the others.

[selhan]

No Rum!



"I'm going to try and rest a little Rose..Sel..either of you you need anything before I find a corner to nap in?"

"Rum!..This Mead is not doing the job..."

*Try's to take the mead by force* "Bad Sel!"

*He puts up resistance* "Bugger!"

"Sel.. Do make me come there and whip you."

*His eyes looks like he was about to whine* "My drink!"

"Sel is a big baby when he be sick."

"Sel you should get back in a bed"

*He twitches his nose and glances at the door way debating....*

"Dont make me get the rope..."

"This place is surly the place of sufferin'! No rum!, no half naked woman!...misery I tell ye!"

No Rum! Buggers! Wot kinda of place is this! The bloody alcohol would help chase down the side effects! Shrine of Sufferin indeed!. Must think...think... *Coughs*..hmm I know..I will just send someone aye..a messenger or courier , a promising visitor will come soon enough..then I can get me rum...They took my blimey mead. Damn it to hells, tis alright..they dont know about this bottle..yes ..yes...it's always good to be resourceful...and I know just the person to get my precious rum...



House Divine would get a missive from a woman that informed the House,
that the Matron Lady Netanya was in need of a new fresh outfit.


Captain Pike in the Broken Goblet Tavern would get word of his assistant becoming's.


Much later quite keeping quiet and awaiting for caretakers and nurses to settle down or even leave,
he bartender of the Broken Goblet laid on his bed scribbling random thoughts in his mind while he waiting for his rum to arrive.