A Monk At the Door

A bright-faced lad in a lawn-green tunic opens the door. He looks scarcely older than an acolyte and seems eager to get somewhere, like a kid out of school.

He nods a friendly hello, seemingly unfazed by the man's scars, and tips his hat as he hoists a heavy satchel down the stone steps of the Dawnspire. Upon hearing the man's inquiry, however, the lad turns and fixes the him with an attentive, blue-eyed gaze, his head tilted slightly.

"I'd say he very likely is available, if the need is pressing. Won't you come in from the rain and let's find out? Might he know who's inquiring and why?"

The lad lugs his satchel back up the steps and pushes against the door, glancing southward for a moment, almost longingly, before warmly inviting the man into the gleaming temple.

Jonah gives the boy a genuine smile, and returns his greeting in earnest.

"Good evening to you, Young Master."

He listens to what the boy has to say, and steps into the door, out of the rain.

"I can't say that the need is terribly pressing. My name is Jonah, I am a Disciple of Ilmater. If your master is busy, I can come back another time."

He follows the boy into the Temple, noting the Southward gaze, but remaining silent about it for the time being. He hoists the heavy burden before the kid can close the door.

"Lead the way, Young Master." He smiles warmly

A broad, grateful grin crosses the lad's face as he is relieved of his burden.

"Ilmater. Wonderful! I know an Ilmateri healer who lives in Shadowdale--a gem of a lass, name of Laura." He strides down the aisle of the temple, smiling wearily at the temple guards who line the wall, then stopping to perform a sacred gesture at the altar.

"I'm afraid we can't offer you much of a place to sit," he says, resuming his brisk motion after his moment of silence. "The Dawnspire's inner rooms are still in the last stages of a long rebuilding project. But please pull up a pew and dry off a bit."

He leads Jonah to a pew toward the front of the room, then takes a seat in the pew directly in front of him. He turns, one leg on the pew, so that he can face the man and offer him a handshake.

"Jonah? I'm Cleophus. But please just call me Cleo."

Jonah follows the acolyte down the halls, nodding respectfully to the Templars and Paladins as he passes them. He listens to the boy talk with a contented smile.
 
"Yes, it was Sister Laura that sent me here.  She has been through a lot, and I fear she has additional trials ahead of her.  But at least now she doesn't have to go through them alone."
 
He pauses out of respect as the boy genuflects at the altar before carrying on.  He adjusts the heavy satchel across his shoulder.  After the kid turns away to find Cleo, he sets the bag down and rings out his cowl and mantle.  As the young man turns around and introduces himself as Cleophus, Jonah is momentarily confused.
 
"Master Cleoph-- ahem. ..." Jonah looks briefly puzzled as he looks behind the young man for the Temple Master, and then the realization spreads a smile across his face.  He bows to the young master. "Master Cleo. I am Jonah, Adorned of Ilmater.  I hope I'm not interrupting." He looks around the unfinished timbers and masonry; "This will be a testament to Lathander.  I can feel his brightness about the place already."
 
"I came to you at the suggestion of Sister Laura.  An Inn is perhaps a... less appropriate place for a Faithful to stay, though maybe more appropriate for an Ilmatri than many others..." He takes a moment to gather his wits, reminding himself to whom he is speaking. "I was hoping that perhaps you and I could come to an arrangement.  I would like to see our Temples work together for the betterment of all and... well... Perhaps you might have some corner that an old man and a novice priestess might call home?"

Cleo tilts his head, his brow furrowing.

"Sister Laura and I enjoy mutual respect, but I don't know much about her trials, I'm afraid. If she's in any danger or discomfort that can be kept at bay by the Mythal or by the comforts of the Dawnspire, then please have her come here right away.

Otherwise, if you're thinking of moving here, I must ask: are you certain? Myth Drannor doesn't welcome all races and creeds, and so neither does our temple. You might find it harder here to minister in your way to all that require it."

He nods along with Cleo's words "Sister Laura is in no immediate danger that I'm aware of.  She has told me of difficult times behind her, and I suspect she has more hard times ahead of her.  Discomfort is part of our way; I might argue that if we were too comfortable, then we are not following our Orders correctly.
 
"To your other question; no, I'm really not certain at all." He laughs at himself  "Perhaps Shadowdale is where we are needed most after all.  But that is why I'm here, speaking with you about it.  Sister Laura and I will be able to minister wherever there are people suffering, and if the rumors I've heard are true, there is more than enough of it here in the Dales to go around.  Regardless of lodgings, I am here in the hopes that our Houses can work together, as our gods have in the past, toward the benefit of everyone... and to discuss how we might begin such Good Works."

"The both of you are welcome here as guests at any time, for any length of time. Be warned, though: we will try to make you as comfortable, too." His eyes sparkle as he give a wry grin.

"As to good works, I've had an idea brewing for some time. Let's speak privately, shall we?"


((( Can we talk in game? Let's PM and try to find a time.))

((Sounds good. I was about to suggest the same. PM Sent.))