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Festival of Death - Archlector's Q&A

With the season of Death upon us, Archlector Hamish has let it be known that he will be in the Shrine of our Queen of Endings for several hours today specifically for the purpose of answering any questions anyone may have about her doctrine. For many our Queen of Endings and Mother of Beginnings remains a new and unusual presence to many in the city and there remain many uncertainties, so as we head into the second great Festival of Death, the archlector wishes to help anyone who would like to get involved feel comfortable with her. So come on by. Mind the spiders.

Date

May 29, 2020, 3 p.m.

Hosted By

Hamish

Participants

Felicia(RIP) Thea Rowenova Adrienne Volcica Gaston Cufre Tikva Zoey Insaya Alaric Evelynn Tarik Korka Preston Tolv Sydney Kiera Bianca

Organizations

Location

Arx - Ward of the Compact - Shrine of the Queen of Endings

Largesse Level

Small

Comments and Log


1 Templar Knight guards, Sir Daniel the Beardless, a somewhat hapless Templar, Kevin, a jerk wolf spider with a really shitty attitude who totally sucks arrive, following Hamish.

Felicia has joined the pews nearest the front.

Tarik has joined the red-lit alcove.

Rowenova has joined the red-lit alcove.

Volcica has joined the pews nearest the front.

Gaston has joined the pews nearest the back.

Octavian, a silken spaniel, an aid in Kennex livery, 2 Kennex corsairs arrive, following Zoey.

Confessor Imori, Confessor Warren, 5 Armed Confessors arrive, following Tikva.

Adrienne has joined the pews nearest the front.

Alaric has joined the a pew that probably isn't infested with baby hobo spiders but I'd still watch where I sit if I were you.

Tikva has joined the a pew that probably isn't infested with baby hobo spiders but I'd still watch where I sit if I were you.

Zoey has joined the a pew that probably isn't infested with baby hobo spiders but I'd still watch where I sit if I were you.

Two Templars have been sitting a back pew looking bored. The bigger of the two is flipping through a guide to learn how to speak Eurusi, but it appears to have been written by a Culler so it almost certainly is teaching him how to speak thblpblp. The other Templar is trying not to doze off in the summer heat. However when the door unlocks they both get up and look like they've been paying attention the whole time. Blessed Hamish steps out of the impressively named inner sanctum, which is really just a tiny office with no windows and seven thousand percent humidity. When he sees the crowd his eyebrows raise and he says, "Well, I wasn't expecting this." He wanders over to the altar and turns back to look at the group. "I don't plan to sermon today. I'm just here to answer questions. If you would like a quick sermon I'm sure I can whip something up when everyone agrees that it's time for a nap. My two passions, after all, are the faith and accountancy. So! I'm Blessed Hamish Farmer, Archlector of our Queen of Endings and our Mother of Beginnings, Voice of Death, et cetera. Many of you have met me. Some of you haven't. So to the latter, hi."

Tarik has left the red-lit alcove.

Tarik has joined the pews nearest the back.

Rowenova has left the red-lit alcove.

Rowenova has joined the pews nearest the back.

Felicia's one of the many that has filtered into the place, taking up one of the spots in the front and adjusting her armor to allow a fist-sized fawn colored spider to crawl out onto her hand. Hamish emerging from the back room seems to warrant a lopsided grin from the redheaded Harrow before she dips her head respectfully his way.

Insaya has joined the pews nearest the back.

Thea has gotten early. She hates being late. And being early means she can look for spiders without looking like a jackass, which the Malvici probably did. BEFORE the others got here. Thankfully though, Thea is here, sitting where there are NO hobo drifting spiders. So she is ready when Hamish begins speaking, a smile on her face. Maybe of relief. When others join the pew, she bows her head.

At the back, Rowenova makes sure she does not quash any spiders, and if there might be a chance to do so, she gently relocates them before sitting down then gently pets Sir Floppington. "What is her favorite pun?"

Adrienne pauses on arriving, brow lifting at the size of the crowd. Content, the Valardin steps inside to the unlikely swish of chiffon and chainmail, studying art and devotionals with quiet contemplation and if she avoids taking the pew maybe-but-not-certainly infested with spiders, she does sit near the front, greeting Felicia and the others there seated with a polite tilt of her head and murmured words.

Volcica had found a seat by Felicia at the front of the pews, settled comfortably and totally at ease with all the spiders. She lifts a hand to Hamish in a little hello, but is otherwise quiet!

Having an interest to learn more about the Queen of Endings, especially with the Festival of Death here, Gaston has joined those who are listening in on the session that the Archlector has arranged for the public. As usual, in these public events, the Blackram has chosen a seat further away from where most will most likely be and out of the way, situated at a pew in the back. This will also hopefully keep his height at a less noticeable level. The spiders, if they do get near, is given a wary glance but not shoo'd away, not wanting to offend.

Hamish offers a slight bow to the king, then looks at Tikva for a moment like he's trying to come to a decision but finally looks on to Rowenova. "'I used to be a butcher, but I backed into my sharpest knife and got a little behind in my work.' Next?"

Cufre carefully wends her way to join those nearest the front. It takes some time to navigate the sidestepping and ducking. Some of it is unnecessary. Surely there aren't quite that many spiders. Is she counting? Maybe. There's definitely a triumphant sort of grin on her face as she eases into a seat (after checking that it has no miniature occupants).

Tikva sits down quietly on one of the benches, folding her legs beneath her with her hands in her lap, looking with alert curiosity towards the Archlector. Her head cants slightly to one side. She looks contemplative, but does not immediately burst forth with an idea.

Cufre has joined the pews nearest the front.

Korka has joined the pews off to the side.

Zoey slips quietly into the shrine, leaving her guards at the door and finding herself a seat at what she affectionately calls the 'baby spider' pew. She crosses her ankles beneath her seat and pulls out a black leather notebook while she listens.

Insaya has a seat at the back, her arms crossed as she leans forward to rest the space between her eyes against her thumbs and listen.

Alaric erupts into an appreciative chuckle for the Archlector's quip. He himself remains a regal fixture upon a rather comfortable pew, casually content to listen as questions are posed while he deliberates whether or not he just saw baby spiders. Probably.

Rowenova lets out a Northern laugh which rings out, "Good one. Thank you." Then, she quiets down, with a few utterances of errant giggles but those soon calm.

Garbed in umbra and stygian, only the diamonds of Alessia's earrings offer brightness and her amber eyes offer any sort of color, especially on entering the dark shrine. She approaches the pew where her friend is sat, greeting Thea with a hug, before offering Alaric a curtsy. "Your majesty." Then she notes Zoey. "My lady." She beams, settling beside the Malvici. "It's been a while."

Alessia has joined the a pew that probably isn't infested with baby hobo spiders but I'd still watch where I sit if I were you.

Felicia chortles aloud at the quip,"Blessed, if I may... have any of the old funerary practices been uncovered since She was returned to us?" she asks, gaze flitting at least briefly along the pew's other occupants with a tilt of her head.

Adrienne offers a faint, amused press of her mouth in response to Hamish's butchering of Nova's question.

"If I may go off of the official doctrine for a moment, there are two kinds of puns. Greater Puns and Lesser Puns. The Greater Puns work both ways. 'I used to be an undertaker, but I hated letting people down.' or 'I tried being a sculptor, but things didn't shape up'. That sort of thing. Then there are the Lesser Puns, which are what happens when someone mentions cows and then everyone starts saying things like 'I don't have a steak in this converation' and 'I should hoof it on out of here'. Our Queen approves of both, but the former are better, if less easy to come up with off the top of ones head." Hamish thinks for a moment, then adds, "And then there's what Princess Saoirse does. It seems safe to assume that she either has a great future or may come back as a poo bug. It's definitely either or, though." Hamish nods to Felicia. "A lot of old practices from prior to the 'loss'," and he says that with audible quotes, "of the Lost are still being discovered, but these things require time and interest. It would be nice if we could ask her and she would let us know, but really what it come down to us our finding these things in old books. Things we may have read before and not realized they were there because we didn't have a name, or even an idea, for the god being referenced. People will need to revisit this ancient lore under the new understanding of the pantheon if we are going to find what was lost. We could also ask the nox'alfar, but I have a feeling their method of burial would less be called burial than disposal."

As Gaston listens closely to what Hamish is saying, he furrows his brows slightly as he realizes that the Archlector is actually talking about puns. In his head, the Blackram is trying to see it connects with the Queen of Endings, seeing if there is some rather deep, philosophical or theological connection.

Adrienne, posture correct and having exchanged greetings with her new companions, studies Hamish before raising her hand. "What virtue would you ascribe to the worship of the Queen?" she asks in a cultured accent, warm with the Oathlands. She pauses, however, clearly questioning whether punnery is in fact a portion of this event and offers with measured hesitancy, "Or is that question deathly dull?"

"A higher level of pun to aspire to..." Felicia might not have a beard to stroke, but it doesn't stop her from touching her chin thoughtfully even as she dips her head in acknowledgment for Hamish's words,"I expect that your library is far more complete than mine in that regard... but perhaps sometime we can compare notes?" she enquires, subsiding in her seat for others to speak up.

Tikva snorfles noisily at her pew and then smothers her mouth and nose with her hand.

Tarik casually looks around the room at the different people that came to here to get their questions answered, before leading in to whisper something to Rowenova.

Alaric casually informs Tikva, just loud enough for those around him to bear witness of his terrible punning, "At my funeral, I want a lot of flowers. It's on my bouquet list."

Not having shed a tear in a long time, Rowenova can feel the welling begin after all the epic puns from Archlector Hamish, the King, and then Felicia with the chin gesture. Rowenova finally finds one of her trusty kerchiefs, briefly dabbing at her cobalt-blue/khol-lined eyes as she absolutely jiggles with intermittent giggles. She erratically nods after what Tarik tells her.

Thea listens from the pew of super long name but no hobo spiders and well--tries really hard not to chuckle. Instead it comes out like a smirk, with a small sound like a snort. She quickle hides it with a sip of her flask, nodding in agreement to Tikva and and his Majesty.

Balian, a Templar squire, Guy, a hunting kestrel, 1 Templar Knight guards, Direhorn Jeffers, a barded Templar wargoat arrive, following Preston.

"The greatest virtue in worship of our Queen is life. Reincarnation means we may live over and over and over, but this life is something you only get the one time. When it ends you will go to what comes next and our Queen will be waiting there for you, to hear what you did with it. Your soul, the part of you that she wove and put out into the world, is what she loves most, but like someone whose children are only able to visit every couple of years, she wants to hear what you've been up to. Wouldn't you rather have something interesting to tell her than 'eh, mostly I farted around and then got stepped on by a horse'? This is also why I strongly advise people not to get too caught up in their past lives. They can be informative, but you can't go trying to recapture who that person was in who _you_ are. Telling our Queen that what you did in your life was attempt to live a slightly shittier version of what someone more interesting than the person you ended up being did is a good way to send her to Snoresville. Which is the official religious term for it. You can ask anyone."

says Hamish.

Hamish adds after a moment, "Also it can drive you completely insane."

The corner of Adrienne's mouth twists ruefully for a moment at the conclusion of Hamish's explanation. Aloud, however, she says simply, "Thank you, Archlector."

The laughter that Tikva is attempting to suppress is clearly winning this siege. She kicks her feet so hard she accidentally wings her toes against the pew in front of here, thereby proving that there is sometimes a reason to wear shoes.

"That'd have to be one /big/ horse." Felicia utters all but under her breath, though from the delighted, absorbant smile she gives Hamish there's definite agreement there. The pun from his Majesty makes her twist about in her seat to give him first a broad and toothy grin, and a respectful half-bow from her seat before turning back like she might get in trouble, as if she was thirteen instead of thirty.

After Hamish talks about getting stepped on by a horse, Nova lets out these muffled laughs along with a few shed tears into her fancy kerchief there.

"It'd be a more interesting story if the horse was on ice skates," Korka offers to anyone that might be taking notes as to what to say to the Queen after death.

"It'd be a bloodier story." Alessia interjects, with a small nod. "That much is certain."

"Oh no, that poor horse," says Tikva, who may be missing the point here.

Preston steps into the Death Shrine of Death and Ending and Death, leaving everyone outside other than his Templar Guard, who takes his place near the door with the others who protect the shrine. The Templar smiles warmly as he catches the answer that Hamish gives, hrming as he walks towards a seat "It is comforting, Blessed, to know the Gods might send those souls back to teach us. Though, not all would be such old souls if I understand? Some of us might be far less interesting - each must start their turn on the wheel at some point, to replace those that pass through to Elysium?"

"Your majesty, I can assure you that king's funerals are always very flowery and well attended. Even the ones nobody liked." Hamish wrinkles his nose at all the conversation about horses. "Horses are awful. I'm not speaking for our Queen when I say that, but I imagine if I talked with her about it she would eventually agree. They're plotting something. You can't trust a horse." Hamish nods to Preston. "It is our Queen's gift to the world to weave souls and send them out to bring all the things that make everything worthwhile to life. As it were. But yes, not every soul is pre-owned. My soul is on its first trip into the world, for instance. As, I believe, is Father Aureth's."

Insaya glances toward the Senior Inquisitor, with an uptick of her eyebrows. She doesn't look as though she's quite convinced that she IS missing the point. "She weaves our souls from her own blood, does she not. There must be a unique beauty and value in the brief and short-lived. I have favorite tunics, but I still treasure my memories of the dress I only wore the once."

Alaric taps a few fingers against his brow in salute to Hamish's assurances. "Duly noted, Blessed," he calls with a light chuckle. His expression sobers marginally when the arrival of Preston begets more serious topics on the nature of souls. His chin tucks down, pensive, before he voices his own query shortly thereafter. "Have there ever been accounts of two souls existing in one body, Blessed?"

As the question and answer session moves onto the virtues of the Queen, Gaston leans in slightly in his seated posture as he listens aptly on the subject of reincarnation and the soul. It's been recently that he has begun to think on these concept with all the studying and readings he has done in private back at the Blackram Fasthold, so these subjects appear to interest him quite a bit now.

When the talk puns less, Rowenova looks up from her giggle fit to Preston, doing so with a nod to the Carnifex before then panning her gaze to Hamish along with Insaya and Alric, too. With the kerchief, Nova wipes away all the eye makeup she has been wearing, doing so very carefully. No more giggles, though, as she carefully listens to the new info.

When the king poses his question, Alessia does a double take, definitely not something that's ever crossed her mind. Her gaze slowly shift to Hamish and she leans forth, intrigued to hear the archlector's response.

Tolv sneaks in, as much as anyone entering such a crowded shrine can really sneak, particularly as regards what's more or less a casual stroll. It's a quiet stroll, anyway, before he picks a pew and sits down with a bright smile.

Tolv has joined the a pew that probably isn't infested with baby hobo spiders but I'd still watch where I sit if I were you.

"Truly? I would have imagined Father Aureth to be quite an old soul - I find it odd to remember my childhood and realising he was not there. I suspect I am very much the same, a simple servant and no more exciting than that." Preston answers, bowing his head to Hamish though in gratitude at the answer to his question "But then, how do we ever know, beyond guessing?" A warm smile is given to Rowenova and the others as he moves to take a seat, turning his sword belt so the blades settle on his lap rather than stabbing things behind him.

Preston has joined the pews nearest the back.

"You know," Korka says sourly.

"I always find prayer works, sir." Alessia says to Preston with a smile. "The gods can enlighten us."

"That is what some have said, my lady," says Hamish to Insaya. "There is a figure that was once popular for house and knightly crests featuring a pelican mother piercing its own breast to feed its children with its blood. 'In her piety'. I've long assumed that was some corrupted version of the idea of our Queen crafting souls from her own blood. Though if I am being true, I have never seen her doing it." Alaric's question gets a marginal raise in the Archlector's eyebrows and he considers the king for a long moment. "My not having heard of it would not be the same as there being no record of it. However, should such a thing occur I would be tremendously concerned for that individual. But expectant, as well. That would be a burden, but the kind of burden that likely has a purpose." Preston's comment gets a snort. "Grandmaster, you are confusing having once been someone interesting with being someone interesting. How any lives do you think the greatest heroes in the Compact had before the ones they lived for which we know them? Look at you! You are barely old enough to shave but are not only a Grandmaster of the Templars but a Carnifex of the Faith. You're a tremendously interesting person. When you die the person who next lives with your soul is going to look back at their past life and think to themselves 'damn, that guy was pretty cool, I hope I can be that cool'."

Thea listens to this conversation, quiet now. For once. Not even a smirk or grin.

Tikva calls out of turn, "But isn't a new life sometimes an opportunity to... repair a past mistake? To absolve your past self of... something, or resolve an issue your soul... left behind?"

Preston's question doesn't have Adrienne looking to him, but Hamish's reply certainly does, with a mix of curiosity and, oh, so faint amusement as she studies the Grandmaster Carnifex.

"You do not think I will be so beloved that my soul shall be called to Elysium, Blessed? And already you think of my death?" There is an amused grin as Preston gets himself settled, a short chuckle before he gives a small bow of his head "I am grateful for your wisdom, Blessed. These lost Gods, we spent so long making 10 fit together, in finding the spaces where these 3 refound live, so perhaps we can find more about the Gods, our Faith, and even ourselves. Assuming of course the Seraph of Sanctum accepts their permanent establishment following his consideration. Of course. I would never pre-judge the Seraph's most wise and considered will."

Sydney makes her way in to the Shrine of Endings. Oh, she's certainly late enough, but that doesn't stop the leatherclad woman to meander down the aisles. A perfect enough time as any, given that more vocal and more prominent others are currently being far more of a distraction than she is. Handy! She meanders to one of the pews and seats herself casually, folding a leg over the other and trying to get a grasp on where the dialogue currently stands.

Sydney has joined the a pew that probably isn't infested with baby hobo spiders but I'd still watch where I sit if I were you.

"New lives are nothing but opportunity, your highness," says Hamish. "When I speak of getting too involved with past lives I merely mean trying to be them. But sometimes a past life leaves behind some business worth finishing. Especially if it's the sort of business that is apt to catch up with you. Or hooking up with someone very hot that you missed out on. Just if you find out that you were once Potassium in a past life you shouldn't go trying to be Potassium in this life." Hamish just shrugs at Preston. "I would not care to speak as to what may happen to your soul. There are those beloved by our Queen who may live over and over just because they always do something interesting. Or perhaps she just wants them to get something right that they keep fucking up." Hamish gives the Grandmaster a whatcha gonna do look. "Guessing at the mind of a god is a good way to spend your whole life falling under one horse or another. But as they say," no one says this, "we could all be poo bugs tomorrow. And Grandmaster, I think about everyone's deaths. That doesn't mean I hope for them. But it's always good to have a eulogy prepared in case of unexpected horse tramplings. 'He was very inquisitive and could have been more mindful around horses!' That sort of thing."

A known alchemist, Scout Rowenova lets out a quick laugh about 'Potassium'. "So, do some of these souls become animals, then, and not just humanoids?"

Kiera slips quietly in the back as the archlector explains about past lives. perhaps a fortuitous moment for entry

"No," says Hamish to Rowenova. "People do not need to worry about coming back as poo bugs. Even the really awful ones. People and animals do not come back as one another. Can you imagine? It would be incredibly confusing. There are _lots_ of mice out there. That said, it is worthy of caution to consider how reincarnation may affect the way we regard other people. Our Queen sends souls out to members of the Compact, common and noble, to shavs and thralls and foreigners alike. An asshole is an asshole, of course. But Prism's words when we consider the average Eurusi is worth considering in that light."

She's been quiet this whole time, but now Volcica pipes up. "Have you ever communicated directly with Her? If so, was it Her that you saw, or did she make her will known through ghosts, echoes of those that have passed?" The austere Stahlben is clearly curious about this.

Tikva has left the a pew that probably isn't infested with baby hobo spiders but I'd still watch where I sit if I were you.

Confessor Imori have been dismissed.

Confessor Warren have been dismissed.

5 Armed Confessors have been dismissed.

Rowenova quietly thanks Hamish then looks to Volcica with a curious smile before panning back to Hamish, apparently wondering the same thing now, too.

Tikva has joined the a pew that probably isn't infested with baby hobo spiders but I'd still watch where I sit if I were you.

Adrienne has left the pews nearest the front.

"I have not," says Hamish. "Though I know a number of people who have. That said, I have seen her. When my chest was crushed by a wagon whee thanks to a donkey, which is basically just a shitty horse, but _I repeat myself_, I was in her presence. I knew without hearing her speak that I needed to spread the word to those too far from a seraph to have heard the news. I have never had her make her will known to be through echoes in the Dream. Though I understand some people can talk to rocks, so I suppose anything is possible."

Kiera offers up "So is it possible for a once dead person to reappear in the same physical form, say a particularly pious or notable personage?

Sydney sweeps an arm across her back and gather her hair in the front, idly working her fingers to gather her hair into a braid. There's sure as hell enough of it to keep her preoccupied as she thoughtfully listens, the Lower pugilist appearing a touch distant, though the commentary about shitty horses has her stifling a snort of laughter into her shoulder.

Hamish tilts his head at Kiera's question. "You sound like you have a specific example in mind. It is possible, but rare. I can think of one example, but just the one. And I'm over 40, so I'm incredibly old and have had plenty of opportunities to hear about more."

"Blessed, if I may?" Felicia straightens in her pew and turns her attention properly to Hamish, but doesn't seem set to chime in with relation to Kiera's question without his go-ahead.

Korka looks to Hamish to hear his latest answer, then nods solemnly in agreement at him being very old.

Hamish looks from Kiera to Felicia, expression showing sudden understanding. "Ah. I think I may have misunderstood the question, though the answer I gave is still very accurate for a different question and I encourage all in attendance to try to figure out what that question would be. Winner gets a," Hamish looks at the altar, "painting of a butt." Then to Felicia, "Please, do." He smiles, but it's the smile of someone willing to do pious corrections at any time.

Tikva barks a laugh which she entirely fails to smother.

Rowenova has left the pews nearest the back.

Kiera hms "I don't know if you misunderstood or not. I realize it's an odd question perhaps and I do have a person in mind but..."

"I am just a layperson, and of course, the Blessed is a far greater authority than I..." Felicia offers at Hamish's assent, rising from her seat and turning to face the others,"but, it's true that the Gods remember. They remember who has served them well in past lives, and they are often welcomed back in new ones. It's been speculated in the past that She shows Her love for the souls She keeps by giving them a chance to be loved by them again. Which isn't the same as them being reborn in the same body. But might account for someone having a similar appearance to a past self? Of course, the Blessed already covered why people trying to emulate their past selves tends to have bad results." the older Harrow offers with a respectful bow Hamish's way before (after checking to make sure there's no spiders) plonking back down in her seat.

Thea actually quietly chokes at that. No. Don't need that.

Sir Floppington the Soulful Hound arrives, following Rowenova.

Rowenova has joined the pews nearest the back.

Hamish nods to Felicia. "True enough. Though there's also something to be said for coincidence. You live long enough you start seeing people who look the same." He claps his hands together and looks around. "So. Anything else? Any weird questions about spiders?"

Tikva asks, "How do the spiders in here get enough bugs, even?"

Insaya says, "Why so many legs? And eyes? Does it hurt to make butt-thread all the time? Is it true they eat eachother?"

"Donations," says Hamish, who then knocks over a small cage of crickets that immediately start hopping this way and that way. "And yes, they eat eachother. Mother Tegeneria still hasn't forgiven Sir Daniel," he shoots the Templar a look, "for stepping on her husband before she could eat him. They don't make silk all the time and it doesn't hurt, but they have to eat lots of bugs. And why do _you_ have so _few_ legs, weirdo?"

"Someone at my bench asked does the Queen of Ending and Beginnings repair incomplete or damages souls like patchwork? Tarik raises his left hand to scratch his back of his head, "I didn't even know if was possible to be an incomplete or damaged souls, so there's that. Tarik say, "I guess my question is there any other animals besides spiders associated with the Queen of Endings?

Archimedes, the Grim Face of Owlish Judgement, Sir Alren, Scholar Duran, a perpetually put-upon assistant, 3 Templar Knight guards, Clementine arrive, following Bianca.

"An odd hypothetical for you Blessed. If something could somehow block souls from going to the wheel, abosrbing them or other such, this would be of course bad. But what should a Faithful person do with such a thing?" Preston muses from his pew "As I say, Blessed, a hypothetical theological question to help us consider The Queen"

Sydney skirts her focus rather sharply towards Preston, the fingers braiding at her hair pausing at once in their ministrations.

Kiera raises a brow but nods politely to both hamish and felicia taking the abrupt change to spiders as cue to shut up

Tolv twists in his seat a little later than Sydney, but he does reqard Preston with completely open interest, followed by looking to Hamish for the answer.

Felicia can't quite help the look that she gives Preston, somewhere between concerned and horrified at his words even if she doesn't seem set to chime in about that one.

Tikva squints in Preston's direction, Inquisitor to Templar, and goes: "Uhh... smash it?"

"Why do you always say 'our Queen of Endings' rather than 'the Queen of Endings'?" Korka asks from her spot on the side pews.

Alaric leans forward to peer toward Preston from behind Tikva. He, too, squints his eyes; moreso out of curiosity, however, than anything. He opens his mouth, only to promptly close it for the mean time.

Perfectly reasonable response, says the firm nod Felicia has for Tikva's suggestion. Apparent agreement in the form of a silent head rattle.

"Souls can certainly be damaged, but it probably isn't something the average person needs to worry about too much. Our Queen can repair that sort of damage, but living with it is not easy and waiting until one dies isn't always an ideal. There are those who are gifted by her and can heal souls. Though like many gifts, it is rare." Preston's hypothetical gets an odd look from Hamish, then he says, "Is kicking it in the balls so hard it they come out its nose and then while it's screaming 'oh gods, my beautiful balls' stabbing it in the head an option in this case? Because if so, I'd probably go with that. If it doesn't have balls then I encourage you to use your imagination."

Korka's question gets a look, then Hamish says, "Because."


Bianca Wyrmguard is a bit of a late arrival; but the legate still makes her presence as unobtrusive and quiet as possible as she silently slips into the shrine. Hands clasped against her midsection, the pale Oathlander stays towards the back of the pews for now, playing the role of wordless observer as Hamish's explanations continue. The corners of her lips might quirk up at his last answer, just a little. Might. Mmmaybe.

Alaric is overheard praising Hamish: I mean, why not?

Insaya can't help it. She erupts into laughter, choking on it as she tries to stifle the loud sound, and ends up slinking out of the pew.

Insaya has left the pews nearest the back.

"Soooooo----none of that sounds pleansent." Thea does speak up also from her place in the pews,"And I guess I didn't realize men found their balls beatiful." The more you know.

"Of course we do," Alaric insists to Thea. "They're the blessed family jewels."

Insaya says, "In all honesty, your highness, because hairy seed sacks just doesn't sound as refined..."

Thea glances at Alaric, smirking. She sees what he did there. "I thought it was more of--decoration..."

"It was naturally a hypothetical, as such theology often is, Blessed. So I suppose it might have hypothetical balls. Though it might not. I'll consider what this suggests. The answer, not the hypothetical....jangly parts." Preston offers awkwardly, bowing his head to the Archlector

Alaric sighs at Thea and Insaya. Just. Sighs.

At all the talk of soul damage/healing, Nova sighs softly but then lets out a bright laugh after the King's joke.

Felicia is overheard praising Hamish: A lecture on the Queen sharper than being kicked in the balls, by a horse!

Kiera blinks at the carnifex. If that's his version of a "hypothetical" encounter, she will take hers. thank you very kindly

"Well, now that we've gotten into the hairy seed sack part of the discussion, I think it's safe to call an end to this Q&A, which seems to have been fairly successful. Though if anyone has any further questions for me I can always be found here, except for when I'm not." Hamish nods to everyone in general. "If anyone has any further questions about balls they can direct those to Blessed Brigida. Just tell her that Blessed Etienne sent you."

"Hypothetical dangling bits and all, Blessed Hamish is flawless in his delivery of answers," Alaric praises aloud to his pewmates. Spiders, too.

Volcica is overheard praising Hamish.

Zoey is overheard praising Hamish.

Kiera is overheard praising Hamish: very informative all around

Rowenova lets out a few Northern laughs before she pipes up, "Thank you, Archlector Hamish." She gets up with a pet to Sir Flop.

Gaston is overheard praising Hamish: The Archlector has a very unique way of sharing his knowledge with those who show interest.

Alaric is overheard praising Preston.

Hamish holds up a hand, makes a vague gesture and says some few words, then the Q&A is officially over and it's time for drinks.

Hamish says in Nox'alfar, "Something sufficiently pious sounding. I know who invented pancakes. I like hats."

Tikva announces, "Funniest time I've had in a shrine since the last time the Mangatans played judges for wine," but fails to actually praise Hamish because she just can't muster the energy. Lame, wasted a rhyme and everything.



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