Howling Mountains – Northwind Village
2 days before the Awakening Experiment
A rare mantle of silence had fallen the austere monastery in the village’s outskirts. Given Northwind’s small size and isolated location in the middle of the northern mountains, the followers of Paulofrates spent less time as spiritual guides than they did as miscellaneous problem-solvers: the monastery served at times as a hospital, city hall, makeshift trial house and refuge for the rare traveller. The fact that the village did in fact have a real mayor seemed to do little to dissuade the populace from calling on the monastery’s head priest for help in any and all matters. The mayor in question – a soft-spoken, aging old man far too friendly to ever take a side in any issue whatsoever – rather unsubtly encouraged the behaviour.
Yet today, as the sun sank in the west, the often-oversolicited priest enjoyed a rare moment of quiet. The arranged hunting trips and supply runs had coincided – no doubt by accident and quite certainly not due to him messing around with the schedules – with other members of their order taking trips to visit friends and families and deal with all manner of personal businesses. Several remaining Brothers had then coincidentally been invited to join the villagers at the local tavern in celebration of some festivity or another. As a result, the normally overcrowded monastery now held a population of exactly two.
The priest had taken the chance to rest and catch up on a little bit of reading. Rare as it was for him to get any new books, it was even rarer for him to have the time to read them. He was particularly pleased with the one he had picked up the night before from a travelling merchant and kept rereading the same page over and over, but finally realized his break was soon to be over. Being a hardworking man in a clergy that held not stressing itself too much as a core principle, he was used to bearing more than his fair share of duties, but this did not bother him much.
Stashing his book and writings in the trunk by his bed, he left the communal bedroom and made his way out into the church hall, giving a passing sign of respect to the stone statue depicting the monastery’s deity. As he entered another hallways and approached the room they used as an infirmary, he stopped in his tracks.
The old priest was not a native to Northwind. He had reached the small northern hamlet many years past and was originally regarded with a small amount of healthy suspicion. He did not hold a grudge over it; there were few reasons for any soul to migrate into the cold, unforgiving northern lands. Most travellers weren’t so much attracted to the place as they were repelled by the prospect of a rope necklace waiting for them in better pastures. But the priest had proven herself skilled, resourceful, and above all kind and gentle. He was stronger than any other man around and much wiser, and so had little trouble in earning trust and respect.
He shuffled his feet as he waited by the infirmary door, focusing his ears on the wind outside to try and ignore the sounds that had made him stop. The climate in the mountains could be treacherous, but it seemed he could count in at least three days of calm weather. It was a dangerously small margin for most people, but he wouldn’t have much problems even if he were wrong.
Shifting back his attention to the closed door, he figured it had given them long enough and lightly knocked on the wooden frame. The sound bounced throughout the silent building, but after a small pause, he heard the rushed fumbling of fabric and stomping nervous steps. He had to wait only a few seconds longer for the door to swing open.
”Brother Theo,” said the priest in a kindly voice. “I thought you had left with the others already.”
“Father! I was… I…” the young man fumbled with his words. He was young and had a rather good-looking, if sheepish face. Said face was now fighting an admirable but doomed battle against the torrent of blood giving it the colour of a ripe tomato.
“Is your stomach bothering you again?” Asked the old priest. “So you came to ask for a remedy?”
“Wa… Yes! Exactly!” answered the young man, nodding far too enthusiastically. “I’m feeling better now, so I… I should go… where I was going. Excuse me.”
The priest stepped aside as the monk rushed past him, bowing quickly as he made his escape. He gave him a few meters headstart before calling out.
“Brother Theo,” said the priest, his deep voice carrying easily to the other side of the hallways.
“Yes Father?” asked the monk, turning on the spot.
“Your robes are tied on backwards,” said the priest, not even looking at him as he stepped into the infirmary.
The old priest chuckled as he stepped into the small makeshift hospital, giving only a nod of recognition to its other inhabitant: a rosy checked nun with long, brown hair tied neatly on a braid. She smiled kindly at the priest as she busied herself straightening the sheets on a nearby bed and putting away a flask of medicine that he knew was not at all related to stomach aches. Her own white robes were properly tied, though the priest knew well that she had most likely put them on at her usual pace while he was talking to the young Theo.
Truth be told, he could have hardly cared less for what his clergy got up to in their own time, but that was not going to stop him from amusing himself at their nerves’ expense. Unfortunately, this young woman was almost pathologically imperturbable, so he had long given up attempts to bother her.
“Will you leave soon, Father?” she asked him as she finished up her tasks.
“Yes, those reports of marauding beasts had me worried for a while,” he said. ”It should only take me a couple of days. I need to exercise too, I’ve been cooped up in here too long. Are you staying?”
“Someone has to. Even Mirian went back to visit her family,” she nodded. “It’ll be fun to have the place to myself.”
“Alright, I just wanted to check with you before leaving. I should be back in a few days.”
“Please be careful Father,” said the nun. Both gave each other a reverent bow, walked back to the main hall and, with a final gesture of respect towards the statue, the old priest went out into the snow-covered plains.
He carried no weapons nor supplies, but he was not questioned on it anymore. Nobody in the village quite understood how, but they had long realized that one way or the other, the deadly mountain cold and harsh winds were no match for his inexplicable vitality. He walked fast over any terrain, his feet stepping lightly without sinking even on the thinnest snow.
As he walked, he couldn’t help but glance south. On clear days, those with good sight could even see the barren earth kilometres away past where the mountains began. But the old priest’s eyes were even better, and he could see farther beyond, where dead earth housed a mockery of life, and the corruption moved with a will of its own. He should have been used to it after so many years, but it still made his stomach lurch when he looked in that direction, feeling the hordes of demons taint existence with their mere presence and desecrate the home of those were once their most noble enemies.
He forced himself to tear his gaze away. He had gone down that train of thought more times than he could count, and it never did him any good. Fixing his attention back on his task, he began to look for the signs of the wild beasts. With luck, he would be back at the monastery in time to continue reading his new book.
2 days before the Awakening Experiment
A rare mantle of silence had fallen the austere monastery in the village’s outskirts. Given Northwind’s small size and isolated location in the middle of the northern mountains, the followers of Paulofrates spent less time as spiritual guides than they did as miscellaneous problem-solvers: the monastery served at times as a hospital, city hall, makeshift trial house and refuge for the rare traveller. The fact that the village did in fact have a real mayor seemed to do little to dissuade the populace from calling on the monastery’s head priest for help in any and all matters. The mayor in question – a soft-spoken, aging old man far too friendly to ever take a side in any issue whatsoever – rather unsubtly encouraged the behaviour.
Yet today, as the sun sank in the west, the often-oversolicited priest enjoyed a rare moment of quiet. The arranged hunting trips and supply runs had coincided – no doubt by accident and quite certainly not due to him messing around with the schedules – with other members of their order taking trips to visit friends and families and deal with all manner of personal businesses. Several remaining Brothers had then coincidentally been invited to join the villagers at the local tavern in celebration of some festivity or another. As a result, the normally overcrowded monastery now held a population of exactly two.
The priest had taken the chance to rest and catch up on a little bit of reading. Rare as it was for him to get any new books, it was even rarer for him to have the time to read them. He was particularly pleased with the one he had picked up the night before from a travelling merchant and kept rereading the same page over and over, but finally realized his break was soon to be over. Being a hardworking man in a clergy that held not stressing itself too much as a core principle, he was used to bearing more than his fair share of duties, but this did not bother him much.
Stashing his book and writings in the trunk by his bed, he left the communal bedroom and made his way out into the church hall, giving a passing sign of respect to the stone statue depicting the monastery’s deity. As he entered another hallways and approached the room they used as an infirmary, he stopped in his tracks.
The old priest was not a native to Northwind. He had reached the small northern hamlet many years past and was originally regarded with a small amount of healthy suspicion. He did not hold a grudge over it; there were few reasons for any soul to migrate into the cold, unforgiving northern lands. Most travellers weren’t so much attracted to the place as they were repelled by the prospect of a rope necklace waiting for them in better pastures. But the priest had proven herself skilled, resourceful, and above all kind and gentle. He was stronger than any other man around and much wiser, and so had little trouble in earning trust and respect.
He shuffled his feet as he waited by the infirmary door, focusing his ears on the wind outside to try and ignore the sounds that had made him stop. The climate in the mountains could be treacherous, but it seemed he could count in at least three days of calm weather. It was a dangerously small margin for most people, but he wouldn’t have much problems even if he were wrong.
Shifting back his attention to the closed door, he figured it had given them long enough and lightly knocked on the wooden frame. The sound bounced throughout the silent building, but after a small pause, he heard the rushed fumbling of fabric and stomping nervous steps. He had to wait only a few seconds longer for the door to swing open.
”Brother Theo,” said the priest in a kindly voice. “I thought you had left with the others already.”
“Father! I was… I…” the young man fumbled with his words. He was young and had a rather good-looking, if sheepish face. Said face was now fighting an admirable but doomed battle against the torrent of blood giving it the colour of a ripe tomato.
“Is your stomach bothering you again?” Asked the old priest. “So you came to ask for a remedy?”
“Wa… Yes! Exactly!” answered the young man, nodding far too enthusiastically. “I’m feeling better now, so I… I should go… where I was going. Excuse me.”
The priest stepped aside as the monk rushed past him, bowing quickly as he made his escape. He gave him a few meters headstart before calling out.
“Brother Theo,” said the priest, his deep voice carrying easily to the other side of the hallways.
“Yes Father?” asked the monk, turning on the spot.
“Your robes are tied on backwards,” said the priest, not even looking at him as he stepped into the infirmary.
The old priest chuckled as he stepped into the small makeshift hospital, giving only a nod of recognition to its other inhabitant: a rosy checked nun with long, brown hair tied neatly on a braid. She smiled kindly at the priest as she busied herself straightening the sheets on a nearby bed and putting away a flask of medicine that he knew was not at all related to stomach aches. Her own white robes were properly tied, though the priest knew well that she had most likely put them on at her usual pace while he was talking to the young Theo.
Truth be told, he could have hardly cared less for what his clergy got up to in their own time, but that was not going to stop him from amusing himself at their nerves’ expense. Unfortunately, this young woman was almost pathologically imperturbable, so he had long given up attempts to bother her.
“Will you leave soon, Father?” she asked him as she finished up her tasks.
“Yes, those reports of marauding beasts had me worried for a while,” he said. ”It should only take me a couple of days. I need to exercise too, I’ve been cooped up in here too long. Are you staying?”
“Someone has to. Even Mirian went back to visit her family,” she nodded. “It’ll be fun to have the place to myself.”
“Alright, I just wanted to check with you before leaving. I should be back in a few days.”
“Please be careful Father,” said the nun. Both gave each other a reverent bow, walked back to the main hall and, with a final gesture of respect towards the statue, the old priest went out into the snow-covered plains.
He carried no weapons nor supplies, but he was not questioned on it anymore. Nobody in the village quite understood how, but they had long realized that one way or the other, the deadly mountain cold and harsh winds were no match for his inexplicable vitality. He walked fast over any terrain, his feet stepping lightly without sinking even on the thinnest snow.
As he walked, he couldn’t help but glance south. On clear days, those with good sight could even see the barren earth kilometres away past where the mountains began. But the old priest’s eyes were even better, and he could see farther beyond, where dead earth housed a mockery of life, and the corruption moved with a will of its own. He should have been used to it after so many years, but it still made his stomach lurch when he looked in that direction, feeling the hordes of demons taint existence with their mere presence and desecrate the home of those were once their most noble enemies.
He forced himself to tear his gaze away. He had gone down that train of thought more times than he could count, and it never did him any good. Fixing his attention back on his task, he began to look for the signs of the wild beasts. With luck, he would be back at the monastery in time to continue reading his new book.