Letter to the Prelate May 11, 2018
Deacon Irar sends a letter to the Prelate to ask for help with some of the crises, large, and small, that are facing himself and his congregation.
Topic: Wehnimer’s LandingDate: 05/11/2018 10:29 PM CDTFrom: JSENTERSubj: Letter to the PrelateIrar hesitated before he handed the crown-stamped envelope to the soldier standing near the gate of the outpost. He couldn’t be sure how much this particular soldier might hate him, especially considering his last interaction with Thadston.
“Don’t mean any harm. The Prelate resides here and he is my superior in the Church. Read it if you like, but please deliver it to the Prelate.”
Irar smiled, but the soldier’s face betrayed his opinion of the Deacon. Irar was hated by even more decent people.
“Please, just make sure he gets it. Koar’s blessings.”
Irar walked away, feeling very much alone and foolish.
He thought back on the letter, wondering if he should’ve never sent it:
I require your assistance as soon as possible. The witch Raznel has returned and I fear she may still hold some power of the blood marble. I ask that I be given leave to remove the altar in the outpost and hold a ceremony to bless a new one as soon as is possible. I feel it is a matter of utmost urgency. We cannot let a blood witch use the marble again to corrupt otherwise devoted Koarites.
Lheren, Stone has returned and he has corrupted my acolyte. Evician may be lost to us. Stone accosted me but I resisted his witchcraft, though I fear my resistance may be only token in the grand scheme.
I lost my temper in dealing with the monster, and have been labeled a dangerous zealot by the Mayor. She has issued veiled threats to prohibit my prayer meetings for fear they should endanger public safety.
She believes me to be a second Chaston, Prelate and has implied she may treat me as such.
I beg that you offer guidance and assistance, as the threat of Stone and a unfriendly Mayor is a threat wholly beyond me.
I have done my best, Lheren, but I need help. You said we’d meet often, but you’ve disappeared. I beg you reappear, my Prelate.
Irar, Deacon of the Church of Koar in the Landing
Roa’ters gonna roa’ter.
“An ‘unfriendly mayor,’ he writes.” She looks up at the guard who’d brought her the envelope, her brow creased in an expression of faint dismay. “Cley, have you ever known me to be anything but unfailingly polite?” The subtle stress on the last two words makes the expected answer clear, and the guard obliges with a rapid shake of his head. “He did not have to deal with one before, but he may now.” Sliding the letter toward the edge of her desk with one finger, she turns her attention to the next document on a stack to her left. “Take care of that, please.”
The guard reaches for the letter and its envelope. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll burn it so — “
Lylia whips her head up to fix the guard with a stare, but her voice is as smooth as it was before. “Absolutely not. I merely meant that the Prelate must still receive his mail, especially as I hope he can explain to our deacon the difference between a simple observation and a threat. I expect you to take care of it personally. You see, I cannot trust just anyone in these matters. People intercept letters all the time.” She waves a hand in airy dismissal. “But we should talk of happier matters. I hope your brother is faring well. What an ordeal he faced with the Ithzir when the outpost was taken, and how fortunate that he was resourceful enough to remain alive to be saved.”
“He still has nightmares, Mayor. ‘Itona ti! Itona ti!’ He used to scream it every night, but now he mostly just cries.” The uniformed man smiles at the woman behind the desk. “We’re just glad he’s back, though, and mostly in one piece. We can’t thank you enough for helping to bring them home.”
“You are kind to say so, Cley. Your discretion and your loyalty are great gifts in their own right.” She returns his smile with a dazzling one of her own. “Now, do see that the Prelate gets his letter, and give Thadston my regards if you should see him.”
Her warm smile drops as soon as the soldier’s back is turned.
[P.S. and OOC: I wasn’t sure if I should respond to this as my character would need a way to know about it IC, but I took the “read it if you like” line as a way to get the letter into Lylia’s hands, albeit temporarily. Irar would, of course, not know about this conversation — but I think he’ll find out soon enough what an “unfriendly mayor” is like. 😀 ]
OR WERE THEY?!
Roa’ters gonna roa’ter.