The First Sacrifice (RP)

After roald says his prayer, he waits... nothing happens.
Guess it was a long shot anyway
He looks at Daryl, the boy looks cold and pale. instinctively he touches Daryl's forehead with the back of his hand, as he has seen his mother do numerous times. A gentle tingling sensation spreads from his fingers to the rest of his body the moment he touches Daryl. The tingling grows stronger and stronger, a strange power fills the both of them while at the same time Daryl's cold skin becomes warmer and ...brighter? every second.

When Daryl opens his eyes Roald is too shocked to even utter a sound, his jaw drops and his eyes grow big.

He gives Daryl a big hug and helps him sit up, only then he notices the gentle rain faling down on the both of them, the rain feels strangely warm and comforting and an unusual feeling of happiness comes over Roald.

Roald whispers:
" Thank you Raynor, you are truly great, consider me your humble follower, and if need be: warrior"

"Yes Norbert, yes.... we are both quite all right"
Roald can't seem to stop smiling. He feels strong, as if he could lift an ox.

With the dimming of Raynor's light, the rain also comes to an end. Albert walks towards his friends. "Roald. Was that you?" He asks, still a bit frazzled by what just happened. Yet, just like Roald, he can't help but smile.

He grips Roald's hand to help him up and tells him. "Looks like Raynor has yet another successful conquest to add to the books."

Norbert looks at the dog to see her reaction. Seeing the tail wagging and the lolling tongue he relaxes his shouldes. "Miracles like these have not been seen in these parts for a long time." Wrinkling his brow he remembers. "There are not many devoted people in the valley. Farmers might pray, but they depend more on hard work."

An old man, solidly built for his apparent age, and dressed in travel-worn but sturdy looking clothes, appears around a bend in the road. He is just in time to witness a young man's heartfelt plea to Raynor and a boy's miraculous recovery. At that sight, he plonks down abruptly by the side of the road, pack seemingly forgotten.

He chuckles wryly, and then starts laughing loudly and uncontrollably, his body heaving. Just when I think I'm old and have seen everything there is to see, the Gods remind me how very little I know, he thinks. Wiping tears from his eyes, he rummages in his pack until he finds a pack of Willwort powder and a bundle of Arkbane. He looks at the group of men standing not too far away, holds out the herbs, and calls out, "Forgive me my rudeness, lads. Would you mind giving me a hand up?"

Roald, not paying any attention to the old man down the road, hears his words but they don't get through to him. Instead he helps Daryl on his feet and in that moment the full meaning of what just happened hits him on the head like a sledge hammer.
''this is... This is... Whow... Is this real? ''
But in his heart he already knows it's real.
He turns to Albert to seek confirmation.

Albert nods to Roald to confirm his thoughts. "Amazing!" He's got a smile on his face.

But something, or someone, down the road catches his attention. Is that laughter? He nudges his friends and nods in the direction of the old man sitting by the side of the road.

"Well met, stranger." He calls out. "What is it we can do for you?" Albert is a bit wary about who this might be.

Olden levers himself up gingerly, keeps his distance, and responds to the man who'd asked about him. "Greetings. I'm Olden, a follower of Selusia, and formerly keeper of her shrine at the old crossroads."

Turning to the one who he'd seen work the miracle, he bows his head slightly saying, "I did not mean to mock you, lad. Rather, I was laughing at my own folly and presumption. Thank you for warming my heart with such a wondrous sight."

He looks around more generally, waves his hand about vaguely and says, "I have some small skill with herbs, and iron and wood besides. You, clearly, have no need of anything medicinal," he says with a wry smile. "But if you've got friends that could use some help, I'll consider it an honour to try and assist."

"Olden from the shrine at the old crossroads..." Albert racks his brain. "That rings a bell." It takes him a good minute to figure it out. "Hang on, do you know a Fiona Raspfoot by any chance?" He turns to Roald "You remember Fiona, right? I think she used to mention the shrine from time to time. I wonder how she's doing."

"Fiona? Flaming red hair, ye high" Olden holds his palm down below chest height as he continues, "If it's the same one, she used to come in to pray for luck on a trip or if she needed something mended. A real taste for a good pipe and weed that one had ... and awful taste in whiskey," he finishes with a glare directed at his hip flask.

He gets a pensive look as he says, "Been a while since I saw the lass. Wonder how she is."

"That sounds like her alright." He can't help but chuckle at the mention of awful taste in whiskey. "Couldn't agree more!" He walks over the Olden and offers his hand. "Well good to finally put a face to the name. I'm Albert. I used to own the Deer's Antlers bar." He also introduces his companions. "This is Norbert, Roald, Neil and Daryl. Oh and that's Norbert's dog."Even though Albert had heard respectable things about Olden, he had his own thoughts about people who follow the learnings of Selusia. From what he had learned in his years of being an initiate, they were an odd bunch. Not always reliable. As with the teachings of their god, they tended to go where the wind blows. Making them often unreliable and 'loners'. Never the less, they were respected in the religious circles.

He had a feeling this was pointless to ask a Selusian, but sometimes you just have to make small talk. "So, what brings you so far from the shrine?"

Olden nods politely first to Albert and then waves back to the one he thinks is called Neil as he says, "My name is Olden. A pleasure and a revelation to meet you all."

He pauses a bit as if in thought at the mention of the name Deer's Antlers, Ahh where have I heard that name? I'm sure it'll come to me at some point.

"As for why I'm here, t'is a dull enough tale, I fear," he continues after a brief pause. "My wife Hilde and I served as caretakers of our shrine nigh on forty years. She passed away not too long ago and I fear," he pauses and continues with a barely perceptible hitch in his voice, "I lost my way a bit. Our friend of many years and a fellow-follower of Selusia, Rugo Underwill - not sure if you've heard of him? - set me right and now serves the shrine far better than I could."

He continues, "Besides, I claim to serve the Lady who guides travellers and I've done little enough travelling myself. So here I am to see what I can of her wonders, and to help fellow wayfarers how I may in the days I have left."

"And what of you ... Albert wasn't it? Do you serve Raynor like," searches for the name a bit, "Ahh Roald there?" he finishes.

As much as I appreciated the much-needed smack to my head that that miracle was and as decent as most of these lads seem (as Raynor's followers generally are), I now might have to put up with sanctimonious sermons about Raynor and his much-vaunted powers, if the tales I've heard are anything to go by, he thinks.

Roald shakes Olden's hand.

Hi, I'm Roald, I errrr ... I don't remember any Fiona but then again, most of my memory from those days is kinda blurry''
A sheepish smile tells Olden he would rather not elaborate on this subject.

''Can we offer you anything? Some food or water maybe? I'm afraid we can't stay here for too long though. Now that Daryl is back on his feet we should get a move on.''

Talking about Daryl makes Roald look at his hands. He is still quite shaken from the recent events but does an excellent job at hiding it.

... Or so he thinks.

I should have a chat with Albert soon.

Olden thinks he catches a glimpse of - Was it exhaustion? A stress reaction? - in Roald. He pretends not to notice, nor does he make any mention of it as he shakes his head and says to Roald, "You're kind to offer but I have all the food, drink and supplies that I need." He nods in the direction of Albert, eyeing the rents in his clothes as he says, "I have thread and needle ... and all manner of tools besides. I can't do what you did there," the latter said to Roald with a wry smile, "but I'm not a bad hand at the rather more mudane arts of tinkering, sawing, cutting or joining, so ask away if you have any need."

With those words, he walks up to a tree that stands by the roadside just a few feet away, slides down the trunk wearily, pulls out his flask surreptitiously (or so he imagines), takes a swig and grimaces.

The dog strolls over to the old man, sniffs him shortly and makes his way into the underbrush. If it would be able to it would have shrugged. It has met a lots of strangers in the valley all of a sudden.

"Good day." Norbert says a bit uncomfortable. "If you are thirsty I have some water here."

The old man breaks into a coughing fit and once that subsides, he shakes his head and says in a hoarse voice, "Thank you, I've got some here," and sips from his (other) flask.

He then pulls out a small piece of what looks like hard flat waybread, nods in the direction of the dog and then asks the one he thinks is called Norbert in an uncertain voice, "May I?"

Albert's face turns solemn after hearing Olden's news. "I'm sorry to hear about your wife." He bows his head and says "May Raynor's light be a guide to her in the afterlife."

"I do server Raynor, yes. However, I cannot say that I am a priest of any kind. Merely an implement to his power." Albert informs the old man. "I try my best to do what is expected of me now that I've found my way back to him."

He looks at Roald when Olden mentions him as a servant. "These guys seem to have been bitten by the bug, as they say." He can't help but smile warmly at the thought. "Well.. What would one expect from the god of conquest, right?"