standing ovation (open)

[Leopold]

		Leopold garnered attention that he wasn't seeking, walking about the village in his religious garb. In the abbey, all of the acolytes wore the same, plain, white fur-trimmed vestments. Their modesty showed devotion to Naga above all else--and they were warm enough for Ferox's harsh winters. But they weren't in Ylisse. Not many in Ferox revered Naga as Leopold did, and many even scoffed at the idea of religion in general. They were isolated enough that he didn't usually have to deal too much with the consequences of such prejudice, but the abbey wasn't self-sufficient. Every so often, someone would have to make a trek into the nearest town to stock up on some supplies. Seeing as how he was young and inexperienced, Leopold was usually just the scrub for the job. The cobblestone felt foreign on his feet. He occasionally stumbled clumsily, unfamiliar with the deep grooves between the rock, completely unlike the flat stone floors of the abbey. In one hand was a small staff. He and the other members of the clergy that could wield them always had one on hand, should they happen to come across a person in need. In the other was a large basket, filled to the brim with fresh vegetables and herbs. If he had to be honest, it was getting to be a bit too heavy for him to carry by his lonesome, and he was suddenly aware why the higher-ups didn't want to make such a trip. As he walked idly about town, only moments before he planned to begin his trip back to the abbey, a few small children bumped harshly into the back of his legs and his basket. "Oh, excuse--!" He meant to apologize, but he realized that it had hardly been a mistake. Two kids snatched up some of his things and a few more ran gleefully behind them. If they'd only asked, he would have been more than happy to share; but he could only guess that they'd grown accustomed to expect the worst from people, bless their poor hearts. In any case, he now had a large deal of produce scattered across the cobblestone. He quickly stooped down to begin gathering his things, but the villagers weren't as careful as they perhaps should have been. "Ah, please, be careful!" He spoke up without about as much assertiveness as he could muster (which was not a great deal) as someone, knowingly or otherwise, squashed one of his tomatoes beneath their foot.
TAGGED:	OPEN!!!
YOU WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE KNIFE AND I PREPARED TO DIE YOUR BLADE IT SHINES LOOK ME STRAIGHT IN THE EYE YOU TURNED THE GAS ON HIGH HELD THE FLAME ALIGHT YOU WONDER WHY I'M SCARED OF FIRE

[sakalam]

The tomato had been squashed completely as if the foot weighted that of giant rock. As its red juice dripped off, the flesh color of skin became exposed and soon, toes and long, pointed nails could be visibly seen poking out of it. The person walked barefooted. From the sight of thick, cotton clothes dyed in royal azure hanging up until the ankles, however, it didn't appear like the person lived in poverty. The mystery of the barefooted person was accentuated by the deafening silence that followed the thieving children's mischievous laughter.

People watched with great humour at the sight of a hulking form wrapped in layers of rich, colorful cloths and fur with a waist sprawled with a large, beady belt of gems and a face covered in a mask of stone hovering over the small, scrawny Naga-loving priest on the cobblestone. Jutting around the person's neck like a collar were crimson spikes carved from what suspiciously looked like bones with the mask adorning the same spikes but in a fashion like horns. Only darkness could be seen through the holes of the mask while its mouth was sculpted in detail to be the sharp, bared teeth of a beast. An iron axe hung from behind the person. Onlookers wondered if it weren't just produce rolling on the ground today.

Golden metallic claws reached down for the priest, the hulking form becoming an intense dark cloud that swallowed the view of the clear sky above. They closed in menacingly on the priest's hand and wrapped around like jaws on the fallen cabbage beside it.

Sakalam helped pick up the boy's items, her two bodyguards, strong, able-bodied fighters, following suit.

Leopold

[Leopold]

		Leopold stared at the tomato. He couldn't help it. Even if it was just a foot piercing a fruit, something about it looked especially gruesome. He couldn't help but imagine some sort of battle going on between a sharply-taloned warrior and some red, fleshy beast, with the obvious outcome being that the beast would fall to the valiant warrior's blade. Plus, there was something odd about seeing someone walking about barefoot that caught his attention, perhaps for longer than it should have. Were they enjoying stepping on the thing? It seemed that way. But as they bent down, the tomato was no longer some strange beast. He was the tomato, and this was the valiant warrior that was going to pierce his flesh and tear him asunder. He probably would have muttered a prayer if he could think straight, given the situation. These were exactly the sorts of things that the older priests wanted to avoid when they sent the younger folk out to do their errands. "...Oh!" Once he finally noticed what the stranger was doing, Leopold found the fortitude to slowly stand up at full height. "Thank you very much!" While grateful, Leopold couldn't deny how odd the situation looked. He was a frail young man being assisted by a strange warrior hiding their face and two other burly attendants. If he knew anything about them, he'd say it was out of character. He couldn't help but glance about, making sure that they weren't about to be jumped by any other ne'er-do-wells. Of course, he was quick to join them in picking up his own things that he'd dropped. "Might I ask your names?" He didn't want to seem as though he were prying--and if he knew a bit more about the world outside his abbey, he might have recognized the stranger already. But, really, he only wanted to include a good note about them in his prayers later.
TAGGED:	sakalam
YOU WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE KNIFE AND I PREPARED TO DIE YOUR BLADE IT SHINES LOOK ME STRAIGHT IN THE EYE YOU TURNED THE GAS ON HIGH HELD THE FLAME ALIGHT YOU WONDER WHY I'M SCARED OF FIRE

[sakalam]

Sakalam passed the produce she helped pick up to her bodyguards, who handed all that they'd gathered to the priest. “I am Sakalam, Father.” Sakalam's voice bounced isolated wihin her stone mask, causing it to echo deeply in a bass. She closed in onto the priest's personal space and slid her hand across his back to his shoulder, treating him as if they were good friends. The onlookers were back to minding their own business but with the rare strange sight before them, many couldn't resist taking another glance.

“These are my men, Ko and Parya.” As Sakalam gestured to the two fighters who politely nudged their heads upon being introduced, Sakalam's metal claws pricked the priest's shoulder. Though they were not sharp enough to put a hole on his clothes so easily, they could be felt pressing coldly through his garb. Sakalam laid her gesuring hand to the priest's other shoulder, her claws now clasping the young man like the talons of a perching hawk.

“And what about you, Father? I neglected to ask for your well-being... How are you? Parya distinctly saw the faces of the thieves. Should I send him to hunt for them? I would like one of them to pay for the precious food I have ended up destroying. We are neither at fault for the waste. It's those children's parents that must answer to your lost spoils.”

Leopold

[Leopold]

		"Sa...?" The name struck a chord, though Leopold couldn't put his finger on why right away. His eyes narrowed as the wheels turned slowly in his head, until he finally came to a realization. "Oh!" Sakalam was a name he knew. Though he had few dealings with the outside world, it wasn't as if even he and the other priests could ignore the names of Ferox's Khans. "Please excuse my insolence!" He wasn't entirely sure what he was apologizing for himself, but he felt that he should. Wasn't that something you were supposed to do in front of people of high standing? Apologize for existing in the lower class? It seemed appropriate, somehow. "You may call me Leopold, if you'd like. I'm only yet an acolyte, after all." To be called "father" felt odd, like a title he hadn't yet earned. The way he spoke felt odd, as well. Little more than a country bumpkin at heart, Leopold was doing his best to elevate his language, given the elevated status of his company. He bowed his head reverently. "It is a great honor to meet all of you, and may blessings reach you for your kindness." Even so, the pressure from Sakalam's clawed fingers felt somehow overbearing, even if the physical weight was really no great thing. "Please, I would ask that they not be punished." It was in his nature to be merciful, though he understood well that this wasn't the way of most Feroxi. "Sadly, I doubt they have parents that could answer in their places." Leopold was no stranger to the plights of the poor. Had he been raised among his family, rather than sent into religious service, he may have had similar experiences--only he'd be even then more fortunate than the poor orphans of the streets. "Instead, if you happen to find them again," Leopold clasped his hands together and bowed his heads once more, as if in prayer. "I would rather they know that they needn't steal from me--but instead may simply ask." He didn't have much, but what he had, he had to share. That was one of his first and most important lessons.
TAGGED:	sakalam
YOU WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE KNIFE AND I PREPARED TO DIE YOUR BLADE IT SHINES LOOK ME STRAIGHT IN THE EYE YOU TURNED THE GAS ON HIGH HELD THE FLAME ALIGHT YOU WONDER WHY I'M SCARED OF FIRE

[sakalam]

If mercy were not in the heart of most Feroxi, then what more in the khan's, the representative of these belligerent people? The young man recognized Sakalam but she doubted he knew her beyond the name.

Laughter echoed hollowly inside her mask. "I see to it that the law is applied in good will when possible. You and your kind are people under my protection too, whether or not you choose to embrace the poverty in place of a brethren. It makes no difference which of a two suffers as long as neither can live equally. I was joking, my dear acolyte, Leopold," she assured him. "Though it is against my wishes, I knew right away from your garb that you would try to be a model of mercy. I don't believe children usually target holy men. It must be a Feroxi thing, huh?"

Sakalam was pleased that the acolyte had reacted collectively from her "joke." She did not know these holy people very well. When she asked her men of their experiences, they expressed disparaging stories while roaring in laughter. She was told priests would shed tears and scream at the slightest aggravation worse than a newborn babe. She hadn't believed all of them. Or at least she thought not all holy men were the same from those in the stories she heard.

"This is a healing staff?" Sakalam reached for the staff Leopold held.

Leopold

[Leopold]

		Leopold had gotten himself into a bit of a situation. Sakalam had overestimated his ability to understand any sort of conversation that included political and legal mumbo-jumbo. It was probably his own fault, seeing as how he had taken it upon himself to try and use unfamiliar, elevated vocabulary, as he assumed would be appropriate for speaking before a Khan. He did get the gist of what she was saying, but a lot of it was muddled. Whatever he did pull from it though left him very impressed. "I don't know a lot about what lies outside of my abbey, including, eh...jokes," He smiled sheepishly, chuckling and rubbing the back of his head. "but I appreciate your dedication to good." As far as he could tell, Sakalam was interested in protecting her people and performing good will, and that was about as much as any holy man could ask for. "They may...not have known." In many places, to wear robes and carry a staff about would mark one very plainly as a priest or acolyte. That wasn't perhaps the case in Ferox, however. "Religion's reach doesn't spread so wide here, after all. ...Er, at least, that's what I've heard." It felt a little presumptuous for him to be speaking on matters of the outside world, especially seeing as how he'd only JUST said that he knew very little about it. "In any case, I don't fault them for what they did. They must have needed it more than I did if they were willing to go to such lengths." Leopold nodded, smiling. "Yes!" Though it may have been somewhat sinful, he took great pride in his ability to use a staff, even if he wasn't particularly skilled in the art just yet. "We are instructed always to carry it about with us so that we may offer our services to the needy. Are you or your attendants in need of any healing?"
TAGGED:	sakalam
YOU WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE KNIFE AND I PREPARED TO DIE YOUR BLADE IT SHINES LOOK ME STRAIGHT IN THE EYE YOU TURNED THE GAS ON HIGH HELD THE FLAME ALIGHT YOU WONDER WHY I'M SCARED OF FIRE

[sakalam]

Her hand slowly slid down the staff and her eyes faithfully watched the movement. It was not thicker than the shaft of her axe, not even close. But it wasn't a fragile toothpick either. It could be rammed for choking or stabbed for gouging. Against humans, it was as deadly as any other weapon. Inefficient, but still capable of killing. On the right hands, however – trained, specific hands, it was a completely different tool. Sakalam cast the acolyte a thoughtful look, hidden by her mask.

Sakalam moved in front of Leopold and turned to face him in a distance of a more appropriate proximity between two strangers. Her two men, quiet but alert, appeared more attentive upon Leopold's asking.

“...That is a good question.” Sakalam paused, and her pause drawled to an unusual silence. “We require healing but not in the way you're thinking, not totally. I should get straight to the point. As you said, Acolyte Leopold, your cult's presence here is weak that not even the khan was aware there was such a thing in her land. It was by the fortune of word of mouth that I gambled to investigate, to check. The information was obscure; I was too ashamed to order anyone else to go withe wrong ideas it would give. 'A monastery in Ferox? Why am I being thrown out to chase what does not exist?' I didn't really believe the idea either until our faithful encounter today. Would you guide us to your headquarters? I wish to speak with your leader.”

Leopold

[Leopold]

		Leopold himself was the only person he could remember ever taking such a keen interest in his healing staff, and even that was only because he felt he suddenly had something to be very proud of. If he had even an inkling as to what half of her thoughts were in that moment, he would be completely appalled and disturbed. Could he be blamed? Men of the cloth were not generally exposed to violent matters. "Cult...?" He muttered the word under his breath. It sounded so much dirtier, somehow more suspicious, than being called an "order" or something of the sort. It didn't sound right on his own lips. It wasn't as if they were recruiting or trying to do anyone any harm. They were just participating in worship. "My leader...? Oh! I suppose that would be the head priest." It was strange to think of him as a leader, however. They weren't a military band or anything of the sort. He had the most seniority and his opinion was respected, but he really wasn't any more a leader than any of the other priests that held similar titles. "Um...if I may," Despite (or perhaps because of) Sakalam's high standing, Leopold was still a bit wary of letting strangers come to the abbey. It was something that the older priests had warned against, as many Feroxi didn't react too kindly to religion in their lands. "Why do you want to meet the head priest?"
TAGGED:	sakalam
YOU WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE KNIFE AND I PREPARED TO DIE YOUR BLADE IT SHINES LOOK ME STRAIGHT IN THE EYE YOU TURNED THE GAS ON HIGH HELD THE FLAME ALIGHT YOU WONDER WHY I'M SCARED OF FIRE

[sakalam]

It was already evident to Sakalam that this young man was not exposed to the world. Even without his admittance, his youth practically bled into his character, formed him into this pure, raw human whose clay was was still soft and warm. She distinguished it in an instant, like seeing red and green apart; her eyes had laid on too many monsters to know what had not been distorted.

▼

She did not scorn him for his ignorance. Though, to him, she seemed to overestimate him, she simply did not regard him any less as she would with anyone remotely good.

People liked being treated as equals. No one really wanted to be subjugated by another person's will, not even these dainty robed men who would allow themselves to be robbed and bless their attackers with sympathy. Leopold's question was welcomed. To be able to ask was a feeling of being in-control and gave the illusion of having a say in the matter.

“It's like what I said: we require healing but not in the way you're thinking. 'We,' the people – your people – our people. I need to talk to him or her. Please take me to the head priest.” Sakalam moved by his side and slithered an arm over his shoulder again, clicking her claws under his neck. “Can we talk while we walk? It's not a matter to be discussed in the streets...Agreed?”

Leopold

[Leopold]

		Leopold was still confused, unfortunately. Sakalam seemed to be speaking philosophically, and that was content that went right over his poor head. He'd never really been in a place to afford the luxury of thinking in such a scholarly way, after all. He glanced briefly at the faces of the warriors attending Sakalam, as if their expressions would provide some insight into what she was talking about. But they were stoic, and they didn't even seem to be looking at the two of them. Even though he still wished he could have gotten details about exactly what it was that she wanted, he thought it best not to continue to prod and question someone as prominent as a Khan. So, instead, he just said, "Oh, uh, right! Okay, yes." He froze in place and tightly gripped the shaft of his staff while her large arm snaked around his scrawny shoulders. His initial fear that this woman was actually out for his life, rather than spiritual guidance, somehow surfaced once more, but he did his best to brush it off as a trick played by his overactive imagination. In any case, whether she intended to or not, the gesture had intimidated him enough into agreeing to her plan. "V-very well, then." His feet moved forward almost automatically, as if he were being guided by someone--when, in fact, if Sakalam hoped to get to the abbey, he would be the one to lead her. "Ah--it's 'him' by the way." He only resumed their conversation once they were both walking and he'd gotten over the momentary jitters he'd felt moments prior. "All of the priests and acolytes at the abbey are men--n-not that it...matters much, I suppose." He suddenly felt self-conscious about making small-talk with such an important figure to his country. Once they were close to the edge of the small town, near the path that would lead through the thin forest to the secluded abbey, Leopold finally revisited the subject of her visit. "So then...do you have an interest in Naga's faithful?" They didn't exactly convert, Naga's followers. But they also certainly didn't turn away new believers.
TAGGED:	sakalam
YOU WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE KNIFE AND I PREPARED TO DIE YOUR BLADE IT SHINES LOOK ME STRAIGHT IN THE EYE YOU TURNED THE GAS ON HIGH HELD THE FLAME ALIGHT YOU WONDER WHY I'M SCARED OF FIRE

[sakalam]

Sakalam had no particular feeling of satisfaction when Leopold had agreed to lead her to the abbey. He agreed, not relented. For her, there was that difference. She might have sped things up with a little bit of intimidation but surely, Sakalam had been fair. Some people just needed a push once in a while.

Sakalam withdrew her arm and claws from Leopold as they began walking. She didn't lag down from his side, walking with him as a companion rather than a tailing follower. Her men were the ones put in that role, ever-present a foot distant behind them.

In a while, it was Leopold to speak again. She didn't immediately understand what his first words meant; however, her mask hid the questioning look he gave him. It hadn't been necessary. Leopold talked about how the priests and acolytes were all men but it became apparent that he was hesitant to speak more about it. Sakalam was a bit surprised. Once more hidden by her mask, however, it seemed as if she merely took the news silently.

It made Sakalam curious. So there was a unique power structure among them? The boy said it didn't matter though. What did that mean? She would see it for herself eventually, so she was contented to continue walking in silence, absently listening to the conversations of the townsfolk until the streets begin to empty. Her men turned their heads left and right as they vigilantly scanned the approaching forest ahead of them.

▼

Leopold was one to speak again. Just like last time, his words initially didn't comprehend for her but this time, he hadn't said more. Sakalam turned to him, not replying. In her attempt to understand, Leopold was forced to be quietly stared by her hollow-eyed mask. It was the second silence the khan had given him. Usually, it was not a good sign.

She stopped, making a full turn to him.

“...My apologies,” she said at last, “I don't understand what you are asking for.”

Sakalam had no shame in admitting it. She didn't know a lot of things. She grew up not knowing a lot of things and learned that facing ignorance was the first step to overcoming it. She was aware that it reflected badly on her. The merchants were good at putting up friendly faces but she knew they liked her as much as they liked a haggler.

Leopold