Mercival, Voice of Rao - The Beginning

Starday, 1 Planting CY591
Seven weeks ago, Mercival set out for the southern states, charged by the Church of Rao to investigate the alleged mechanizations of Iuz the Old, demonic overlord of the lands north of Veluna and her allies to the east. Six of those weeks were spent on horseback or in wagons as he traveled through Bissel, the Gran March and the Ulek States, eventually making his way to Gradsul just over a week ago.

While the contingent of Rao worshipers in the ‘Haven of the Suel’ was small, Mercival was warmly greeted and thrust into the limelight as the local order elected to make the recent Growfest as much about him as it was about the upcoming planting season.

Brother Urlicher, senior member of the Roan temple, saw to it that every popular event in the city included something that Mercival was involved in; everything from the making of a local meade called Azure Top to grain tossing events where he competed with others in seeing how far one could toss a 100lb sack of seed grain (he never one). Never in all of his years had Mercival done as much celebrating or working as he has in the past week.

Fortunately, Growfest is only a week long, and when you awaken this morning, for the first time in quite a long while, you do not have an agenda-packed day to look forward to. While the temple is not large enough to provide any outside of the senior priests a room to themselves, the church does have a working relationship with the nearby Lighthouse, a local inn that caters to travelers requiring a bit more of an upscale location to rest themselves.

The Lighthouse sits at the edge of town, three blocks from the temple itself, and overlooks the nearby Azure Sea. A prefect view of the harbor is afforded you from your room. The windows stand open, and a light breeze brings in a smell of sea air mixed with the smells from the kitchen below. The rumbling in your stomach reminds you of the time it has been since you last ate, so you rise from your bed and gather your belongings.

Finally! A day to yourse... knock, knock, knock, comes the sharp rapping on your door.

"Brother Mercival? Are you awake? Brother Urlicher seeks your company." a young male voice comes from the other side of your door.

Mercival
"My sincerest apologies." the young man replies. He wears the robes of an acolyte, pure white with a white sash; none of the colors of higher-order clergy are present, indicating that this acolyte is probably less than a year into his studies.

"I was instructed to find you as quickly as was possible. Brother Urlicher was quite adamant on that fact." he continues, his eyes lowered in deference and hands folded in front of him. "If it is your instruction that I am to accompany you, I am at your service, brother."

Mercival
"I am called Emery the White, brother. I am honored that you would notice one of my station."

The gentleman behind the bar is human, lanky and tall, with a very narrow face and dark, close-set eyes. His mustache is full, and his face could stand a shave.

"'Course, your lordship. What'er needs ya have, we kin acquire. Fancy breads or cheeses? P'raps a smoked meat or sumthin'?"

Mercival
"Emery, sire." the boy says in response to your mispronunciation of his name. "I am most grateful at your magnanimous invitation, brother, but I am unable to break my fast until later, when I attend my studies at the temple library. Sister Erlinghan knows if we cheat. And her attitude with cheaters can be most... uncomfortable." he says, his face turning a slight shade of pink.

A few moment later, your food arrives as requested.

Mercival
Emery works to keep up with you, and upon entering the temple proper he guides (follows) you through the hallways to the office of the high priest of Rao, Brother Franz Urlicher. Knocking gently on the door, you are called into the office by the soft, familiar voice. With a bow, Emery opens the door and gestures with a sweeping arm, all while moving away.

Inside, the office is plain, but regal none-the-less. An ornate desk, fashioned from a single piece of Hornwood, contains tiny bas relief sculptures depicting Rao in his various forms and times. Across the top edge on this side a crooked staff lies cradled between a pair of silver clasps. It, too, looks to be from hornwood, with jacinth, alexandrite, topaz, and other precious stones embedded in it. Its shaft and headpiece are formed from cold iron and silver, giving the impression that it is ageless. You have seen it before, and know it to be a replica of the real Crook of Rao carried by the High Priest of the Order, Canon Hazen of Veluna City.

Brother Urlicher is a middle-aged human man, just under 6 feet tall, slightly overweight and completely hairless (an affliction which caused him much anguish as a child, and so drove him into the church). His voice is soft, neither deep nor high, but characteristically average. Sometimes you get the feeling he moderates his voice to the tone and level he does, just to put others off, to see how they react.

"My dear Mercival. How good of you to come on such short notice. I trust that your lengthy stay with us has been as much of a boon to you as it has to us. Drink?" he asks, gesturing for you to take a seat across from him.

Mercival
Franz walks across to a small table where decanters of water and juice set, and returns to his seat with a pair of glasses. Pouring you a cup, you see that it is juice made from local berries, a thick drink with a sweetness that remains on the palate long after the drink is gone. Smiling back at you, he says "Your stay here has been a boon for our humble church, Mercival. A never-ending boon that our Lord Father surely saw fit to provide us in our time of need. Festival time can be very taxing on our congregation, what with the plethora of ways a soul could find himself on the un-virtuous path. Ways that the city seems content to provide nearly free of charge to those wishing to partake in it fully."

He pauses, drinking deeply from his cup, the draft leaving a small trail of purplish-red along his smooth, upper lip. "But I fear that your time may be coming to an end. There have been troubling rumors, and I feel that one of your stalwart faith would be just the man to undertake the task I am asking you to. While there would be no comforts of the Lighthouse to return to every night, nor fanciful eateries to gorge oneself upon on a whim, I am sure you will tackle this next challenge as resolutely as you have your previous ones."

Mercival
The high priest blinks for a few seconds, his eyes diverted as if contemplating your words before speaking. "Well.. of... of course. We all serve and are stationed at the leisure of his holiness. And should you desire to stay, I'm quite sure there would be those who would step to the cause."

He pauses, and you get the feeling that he is a bit uncomfortable. "But I thought, perhaps, given you've no real ties to our congregation that you would be eager to undertake a new mission."

Mercival
The high priest's brow furls a bit as you mention how you would decide, but seems content to let it slide.

"The tendrils of the Old One are felt even in these regions." he begins, making a warding sign against evil at the speaking of Iuz's common-man name.

"There is much coastline to protect, and not enough ships to protect against it. Even Seaton, with its bolstered naval presence is spread thin as it tries to contain the Sea Princes and smugglers as well as slavers from the south. I am told that a contingent of Iuz's wretched army are posing as mere merchants as they seek to gain fair trades for food and other goods that will help him feed his horde as they ever-assault the north lands."

He looks you over, as if depressed that you are being offered the mission over someone else, but he finishes "The church would have you travel to Seaton, perhaps inquire about unusual traders or merchants, those who may be posing as they might not truly be. If the rumors are true, and the Old One is engaged with a mercantile business, we must seek to shut it down; or infiltrate it, if we can, to gain advantage against his armies."

Mercival
"Of course. Travel has been arranged already. If you hurry, you can just make it. There is a small wagon train departing from the merchant staging district, just outside of town. Ask for Herford Mellon. He has been tasked with providing you a comfortable seat to ride upon, as well as food while traveling."

"This, " he adds, tossing a small pouch of coin on the table, "should suffice in hiring men that may be needed. Safe travels, brother. You shall be missed."

Inside the pouch, you find 25 gold coins.

Mercival
The high priest remains silent, merely nodding in your direction as you depart. You swear you here him say something softly as you depart, but cannot be sure. Grabbing your gear, ensuring all is in order, you depart the main gates along the road west, toward the port town of Seaton.

There is a small community to the west, just within the shadows of the city gates, and you make your way past various mercantile establishments and a small inn called The Hammerhead Inn; a fitting name for a place near the ocean's edge. A short distance beyond that, you see an open area with numerous wagons, horses and people moving about. A small train of four wagons looks to have just departed, and is perhaps 50 yards down the road heading west, while another small group seems to be forming up preparing to leave.

Mercival
An older man, perhaps in his mid-sixties, flowing white hair with a bald top, squints in the direction you are indicating. "Aye, father, I b'live it be him. Flamin' hair there at th' last cart there. Can't miss 'em. Best be hurryin' afore he gits too far. Feller gots him a temper like the devils, I tell ya."