Noble Arcana

The Herald is the lazy man’s god. You don’t need to learn the truth of the gods, who is who, all you need to do is trust him with your prayers and know that he will take them where they need to go. True belief is forged in study and blood, and the Herald is a crutch for those without the will to truly seek the divine

Writing of Mad Bayne

Solomon stepped out of the carriage, thanking Melissa for opening the door, and Duncan for driving before turning to the other wagon and watching his other servants exit and head for the church. They had arrived only ten minutes prior to the start of service and so the street in front of the church was very busy.

Solomon walked casually forward and noticed a number of eyes on him as he did so. That wasn’t unusual, he’d been experiencing them since he’d arrived in Moonfallow. He didn’t take them personally, a man of his station living in a town like this one was an oddity. This time though the gazes he was receiving were much friendlier. He noticed a number of smiles and respectful nods in his direction.

For a moment he thought he saw some elves mixed in among the crowd. Their long ears and earth coloured clothes standing in stark contrast with those around them. He blinked and they were gone.

He kept his composure and nodded back at few of the crowd as he walked, recognizing a few of those staring as men and women that he’d recently given temporary employment. The number of eyes seemed to be inflated beyond just those he’d met though.

He walked through to the front of the church and settled in next to Dame Pryor. They didn’t have time to chat before the service began, but she did give him a nod of acknowledgement. He glanced for a moment at Threen, seeing the mana beneath his skin move, and felt more certain that he was a Homunculus of his uncle’s creation.

Solomon expected to see Luterne taking his usual place at the altar, but instead it was the older priest, Hinds. Solomon hadn’t gotten a clear look at him, but now that he was standing in the light of the altar he could see that he was a short man with wispy gray hair. Along with the baggy brown robes he was a perfect picture of a country priest.

He stood at the altar and rang a small bell that sat in the corner twice. This drew everyone’s attention to him and quieted the room.

Hinds looked around, satisfied that the attention was on him.

“I welcome you all to this church. May the Herald sing you forward.”

“And may his song find you well,” responded the congregation.

“The Herald is in some ways the greatest of the gods. Though he has never been considered the most powerful, or the most cunning, he has made himself the most useful and in doing so he is the representative of all of the gods, both known and unknown.”

“Today I wish to speak of one of those unknown gods. The Herald’s sister, The Harbinger.”

He paused, his eyes sweeping over the crowd.

“She, like her brother, delivers messages to both gods and men. She tells us that doom is oncoming. That suffering will come for us soon. Many consider her an evil god because of this, but those with wisdom see something different. She is not the cause of the trouble that is coming to us, she is simply giving us a warning that it is oncoming. A chance to prepare for it, and to answer it properly when it arrives. It is easy for us to thank the Herald for what he does, but let us not forget to honor his sister as well. She is the one who needs our thanks the most.”

The priest had another pause, this time coughing, his lungs seeming to rattle in his chest as he did so. He then reached for a cup behind the altar and had a small drink to clear his throat.

“In this next week I ask you to think of those who do thankless work. Work you may not appreciate. The guard who threw you into jail because you decided to drink too much, but kept you from hurting yourself or others. The Carpenter who tells you that your wagon is no longer safe to carry goods in. And of course, the old priest who tells you to spend less time in Etling pubs and more in church.”

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That drew a light chuckle from the congregation.

“May the laborer bring you the chance at great works,” he said, holding up a fist in one hand and grasping his wrist in the sign of the laborer.

“And may those works be complete,” responded the congregation in unison.

Solomon found himself much preferring Hinds to Luterne. He was much more traditional, using doctrine and dogma and weaving it into the day to day. As the sermon wrapped up, Hinds performed the rest of the service and ended everything with a prayer for the young girls that were still missing.

Solomon sat with Dame Pryor as he waited for the back rows of the church to clear out.

“I heard quite the tale about you saving that trapper.”

“Oh?”

“Fought off a bear with your walking stick and dragged him through a hundred miles of thick woods to get him help. Quite the accomplishment for one so… pampered.”

Solomon laughed lightly. “I’m not sure that it was a bear, and it was certainly less than a hundred miles of thick woods. I was barely on my feet when it was done.”

“Still, the people here have been taking notice of you. Your generous pay, helping that trapper and getting hurt yourself, putting more guards on the streets. I’ve also heard rumors that you’ll be having the roads rebuilt and I have a few guesses as to what you were in the woods for.”

“Oh?”

“Just give an old woman a chance to invest when things are moving forward.”

Solomon nodded. “Of course.”

He turned to the exit, noticing that it was nearly clear, and was about to offer the Dame his arm so that he could walk her out, but before he could Hinds approached them.

“Dame Pryor, as devout as always,” he said, taking her hand in his for a moment.

“Hinds. I am glad to see you well. I was growing quite tired of your lesser’s sermons.”

Hinds expression grew pained. “He is truly devout, he just lets certain worldly concerns cloud his judgement.”

“Where is he?”

“Etling. They needed additional support for the completion of a sacrament and he was eager to volunteer.” He turned to Solomon.

“You must be Lord Morrow. It is good to meet you.”

“You as well,” he responded, holding out his hand. Hinds took it and shook it firmly.

“Luterne has spoken of you often.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that.”

Hinds chuckled. “It’s fine. You are more exciting to hear about than complaints about how provincial Moonfallow is.”

“I wonder, could I ask you of a theological matter?”

Hinds coughed a bit. “I can speak for a moment, though I will need rest soon.”

“Have you heard of the Lord of the Black Wood?”

Hinds frowned and scratched at his white beard. “Yes, but it has been quite some time. How did you hear of it?”

“An old book detailing gods local to this region. He stood out as there was very little information about him.”

Hinds nodded, as if satisfied with that answer. “When I first arrived my senior, Klea, told me a bit about it. She says it was vetted and identified as a neutral god some time in the past. It mostly just wandered about the periphery of the Black Wood. It has ties to the land here, has likely been around since before this land was brought under Drakthiss. There were still a few believers then, but they all seemed to fade away. I can’t say I’ve heard anything about them since-” He had another coughing fit.

“Interesting,” said Solomon nodding. “Well I thank you for the information. I hope I haven’t overly taxed you. Is there anything I can help you with? I can spare some servants to help with matters here if you’d like? Many are very devout and would likely volunteer.”

Hinds shook his head. “No, no. I’ll be okay. Even as I am now I am much better than I was just a week ago. That said, I need rest. If you two would excuse me.”

Solomon gave the priest a nod and offered Dame Pryor his arm so that he could walk her out with Threen right behind them.

“The invitation for tea still stands,” he said as he helped her into her small two-wheeled carriage.

“I remember dear. If you can go more than a week without being injured then I’ll be sure to pay a visit.”

Solomon smiled and thanked Melissa as she helped him into the carriage.

Once they were both settled and the carriage on its way, Solomon asked her for a report of how things were progressing in the manor.

“Poth has nearly finished clearing the garden with the help you provided. He’ll need your input on what to plant, but has been unable to find you and unwilling to disturb you in your study.”

“I’ll make time for him.”

Barnabas and his Brother are still having some issues with the carpenter and mason you hired. There haven’t been any threats of quitting, but from what I understand, and what they’ve made abundantly clear, they are the best here in Moonfallow.”

“I’ll make time for them as well.”

“The guards have been falling asleep on the job at night, and one of them made a pass at Emery that was not well received.”

“What kind of pass?”

“He simply asked her if she might visit a local tavern with him at some point. She gave a firm no, but he has persisted and repeated the question multiple times.”

“I will have a word with him.”

She nodded. None of the temporary workers were on that day, so these matters could wait until the following morning.

Solomon gritted his teeth a bit, some cold settling around him as they entered the grounds of the estate. He really wished to seal himself in his study again, but he couldn’t let his other matters fall by the wayside.