Sisters of Light Hospice

[Guest]

The monotony of the hospice had finally gotten to the amnesia stricken man. He moped around the building for several hours doing his best to stay out of everyones way as the sisters went about their daily business.

" I need to get some fresh air, but I can't go for a walk around the block in these rediculous robes." Feeling slightly better with the idea of going for a walk in his head, the amnesia stricken man went to look for Sister Alia Anor and the rest of the armor she claims he had been wearing when she found him literally on her doorstep.

[Alia Anor Graham]

I had sent word to Brother Zed, requesting a meeting to see about Dimitri moving into the rooms at the Temple, and then returned to the Hospice.

Rollo walked past my door, pausing a moment. I looked up, "Come in Rollo, how are you feeling?"

He seemed to be improving, and he'd come seeking the remainder of his armor. It seems he was getting tired of being cooped up, and I opened the cabinet that held the remains of his armor.

"There are trousers and shirts in the laundry if you prefer not to run around in simply a robe. There should be something there that will do until you can obtain your own."

[Rollo]

He nodded with a smile as Sister Alia Anor gave him permission to take what he needed from the laundry. Rather than carry his bulky armor all the way to the laundry room, root through everything till he found a shirt, breeches, and stockings that fit, then put on his armor; he'd just head on down to the laundry, find something that fit and come back. Excusing himself with the smile still on his face, the man with no memory went to do just that.

Roughly a half hour passed before he came back wearing a shirt, breeches, and stockings of similar shades of pale gray. He knocked at Sister Alia Anor's door and peeked inside. Ducking his head respectfully, apologizing for intruding again, he picked up his armor from the cabinet and carried the breastplate, gauntlets, boots, half-plate leggings, all of which were a red as deep as blood when held against the gray clothing he wore, back to his room.

Meticulously laying each piece of armor out on the cot which had been provided for him, he went about the task of figuring out how to put the armor that was his, on...

[Alia Anor Graham]

Rollo began to come and go from the Hospice. He seemed to be a rather quiet, serious man who never said much, and yet I saw him regularly around the Hospice. He was physically mended from grievous wounds he'd suffered and yet his memories were not returning according to what he told me.

Soon he would be ready to leave our care, and I wonder what will come of him. No one was able to provide information regarding his armor, and thus I could not even send him toward his homeland to find his memories, or his history.

Tomorrow I will take him out to meet his destrier. The beast has frightened all of the stable help, who are not used to working with a well trained war horse. Perhaps seeing his master will help the animal settle if only just a little bit.

[Alia Anor Graham]

The walk in the rain was dismal. I always feel as though I am being watched, and yet never do I see anything out of place. Either I am imagining it, or the watcher is very, very good.

I’ve heard at the Temple that the orphanage is not growing as planned. There are rumors that Brother Zed may ask me to work on that project for awhile. I have mixed feelings about that. I love the Hospice. We’ve grown quickly, but the rooms are full, and we have a waiting list. I adore working with Seraphina and Dimitri, though I’m certain they could run the Hospice without me.

I paused at the door of the bakery. A cold, cold wisp of air curled around me, sending a shiver down my spine. A premonition? I hope not.

[Guest]

(This be backdated a bit, due to my being horribly behind in posting)

It was a quiet night as Vinny and his guest entered the hospice. Most of the staff had retired for the night, and the one's that were still awake were busy at the moment. He looked at the figure next to him. "Follow me, and whatever you do, don't wander. I'm sure there are some people who would frown upon my bringing you here, but I think you're my best insurance should I mess this up."

The figure nodded and followed him through the corridors, until they came to the are where Michelle, and her new body, laid in suspended animation. Vinny stood there a moment, taking a few breaths and gathering his wits for what he was about to do. "Don't do anything unless I screw up, which I probably will do. Soul transference is a new thing to me."

Rhaine stood there, watching intently. It wasn't typical that she would do this, but it helped deal with the boredom that she constantly dealt with. Vinny may not be the best company, but at least he could provide decent conversation. And if anything went wrong, she felt confident that she could handle herself.

Vinny laid his hand on Michelle's head, digging deep into her essence, letting himself feel its entirety.He slowly began to pull at it, nudge it up and out of the body, and in a few minutes had it in the palm of his hands before storing it in a container he had made for this purpose. "Spirit in a bottle...."

He waited momentarily before going about trying to move the spirit into the new body. Sweat began to bead on his forehead. Doubt began to creep into his mind as he began the process and started to slip. Thankfully, Rhaine jumped in and took over, doing the job much better than Vinny could have done. He just stood back and watched her weave the soul into the new body. It was marvelous watching her work, like watching Bocelli sing, or a chef making a really good dinner.

Once she was done, Vinny stepped forth. "Thanks again. Looks like I made the right decision by bringing you here."

She just shrugged. "I didn't do this because I have any feelings of debt or deep friendship towards you. You just make for good conversation. "

He shrugged. "Whatever. I just wanted to bring the best, and I know you'll keep quiet about this." He showed her out and then came back to Michelle, where he just looked at her for almost half an hour before disposing of the old body in a portal to the bottom on the harbor and changing the sheets so he could move the new body there. She'd be fine in a day or two.

This whole affair hadn't worked out quite like he had wanted, but he had gotten what he wanted. A fresh new recruit to be folded into the temple. One who would owe him a debt if he needed a favor.

[Alia Anor Graham]

The city was preparing for the celebration of Thanksgiving, but something nagged at me.

The hospice patients would be well fed, but the Temple's plans to get the food kitchen and the orphanage up and running were behind schedule, and then it struck me. The poor, the homeless, where would they get their Thanksgiving meal?

I sent a messenger to Brother Zed, I would open the Hospice for the day, and feed anyone who came through our doors. There was much to do to prepare, and I put Dimitri and Seraphina to work preparing for a larger crowd than initially planned.

We opened the Hospice doors at 11 am, planning to feed anyone who came in the central sitting room, where they could rest and eat in shelter, and before a warming fire place.

[Rollo]

( Time to play catch-up)

Seeing the destrier, that Sister Alia Anor claimed was his, brought no recognition to his foggy memory. Cautious steps took him up to the large animal. The horse whinneyed at his approach and shook it's head before lowering it's head to his outstretched hand and nuzzled it softly. This singular action told him that the horse belonged to him. If the horse was not his, why would it have nuzzled his hand so readilly?

Moving close to he destrier, it lifted up it's large head to look him squarely in the eyes. He saw so many things within the creatures eyes, he didn't know what to think. He saw pride, relief, and a whole range of emotions he couldn't rightly name. This animal had a strong spirit, that much he could tell. It had a spirit and a sharp mind. Something about all of this didn't seem right to him. Though he could not remember much before he woke up within the hospice, outside of a few vague dreams that did not make any sense, he knew that this was no ordinary horse.

Rubbing down the beautiful animals neck, he turned and looked at Sister Alia Anor, with a curious gaze. "Well it appears to know me, but I'm still in the dark on everything but my name." With an exasperated sigh he turned back to the horse and moved to look it over for any kind of branding or other type of marking that may cause something in his mind to click. He circled it slowly, running his hands over the horses flank. Moving closer to the rear of the horse, he found a strange branding. It appeared to be similar to the design etched upon his armor, though slightly altered. Whereas the armor was raised up, like it had been moldted that way, the brand on this horse looked like it was drawn onto the horses very flesh. Not burned on from an iron, but drawn into it's very skin. This was very peculiar. Stepping back, the man turned and motioned for Sister Alia Anor to come and inspect the marking. Mayhaps she could identify how it was made.

[Alia Anor Graham]

We stood near the great war horse, but I didn't dare get too close. The training of the horse was such that whenever I got too close, the horse's ears would go flat back, his eyes would roll and he'd bite or kick at me.

He clearly loved the animal. The bond was strong, and the horse was pleased to see our guest.

He walked around the creature, pausing at a brand upon his flanks. Similar in shape and form to the devices on his armor, but this looked like a freeze brand rather than a raised form. It was not a hot brand, clearly, but whether it was frozen into the skin, or the mark was done magically, I could not tell from where I stood.

"It is not an elven mark as best I can tell from here, but there are cultures that use freezing to put such marks onto their horses."

[Legendazona]

The imp had delivered her gift. The receptionist had conveniently paid for them, and now she could see the candles sitting on the administrator's desk.

Just waiting to be lit.

Just waiting to release their components into the air.

She lingered in the stone lintel of the window to watch and wait.

It seemed the half elven mongrel was in the stables with a guest.

[Alia Anor Graham]

Lana came out to the stable, giving the great war horse a very wide berth as she came to whisper, "there is a gift delivered for you, it came from a shop called Imp's. Thought you would like to know."

She bobbed a curtsey and then retreated from the stable. I suspect she is not comfortable around animals. I believe this is her very first excursion to the building.

Rollo seemed lost in his own thoughts, pondering the markings upon his horse, and the horse was nickering to his master, clearly pleased to see him.

My thoughts drifted to the unexpected gift. There had not been a card, nor any message from the imp that delivered it. How odd.

Tomorrow I needed to go to the site planned for the orphanage. There had not been anyone to do the start up, and for the next couple of months, I'd agreed to work on that project.

[Alia Anor Graham]

The last week I have gone between locations, leaving the daily administration to Seraphina. She's wonderful to have around, and knows so much about working with the elderly.

The orphanage plans are about ready, and I will take the proposal to Brother Zed tomorrow.

The gift of the candles remains an enigma. The imp that had the note from the buyer had eaten the message, and so that is lost to me.

Who?

Dimitri has been away, no one from the Temple would do such a thing. They are a mystery.

Rollo seemed a bit deflated by the inability to remember the horse and apparently there were no memories triggered by visiting the great beast, but the horse was very pleased to see him. I do hope he will continue to visit the animal, and if nothing else, groom him and maintain the bond. A trained warhorse would be very difficult to place in a new home.

I picked up the candles and left the Hospice for the night.

[Rollo]

For Rollo, the weeks has passed by with dismall monotony. Doing his best to stay out of the sisters' way, he made himself as scarce as possible. The only routine he observed was making steady trips out to the warhorse that knew him; although, he did not know it.

Each morning he would walk out to the stables with a bucket of warm water, a sponge, and some soap he purchase from the stable hands; and wash down the animal. Grabbing a firm bristled grooming brush he would go about combing down it's mane, flanks, forelegs, hindlegs, and it's neck. He was almost anal retentive, in how he went about taking care of the animal. Though he had no memory of the beast, something inside of Rollo, spoke to him that this was how he should treat the animal. After this was done, he would walk back into the stables and retrieve "his" saddle; and go out for a ride through the nearby Battlefield Park.

Rollo was constantly in awe of the animal. How easy it could whip around a sharp turn, how instictively it responded to the slightest command. He had even tried taking through some jumps, just to see if the horse was capable. This horse didn't jump, it flew. Barreling towards fences, low walls, or bushes, all it took was the slightest nudge with his knees and the horse was in the air. Through everything Rollo had tried with the animal, all of his cammands to it seemed to come naturally. As if his body was remembering what his mind could not.

Rollo stayed out only until noon each day, then he would walk the horse back to the Hospice and place the animal back into it's stall. With that taken care of, he always returned to his room and grabbed the spear he'd acquired from a local coloseum called the "Arena". Walks back out to the stables, since at this time most of the stable hands were eating lunch, he would move through a series of stances and strikes with the spear. All the while, his body moving of it's own accord. Rollo just let his mind go, allowing his body to flow naturally through it all. Some days he would moves as fast as he could, his hands almost a blur as he manipulated the long-handled weapon. Other days he moved slower than a snail. Seeming to take his limbs a full minute to move just an inch, all the while, his muscles remained tense, defining themself. When he was finished, Rollo would walk back into the Hospice and bathe the sweat from his body.

However, Rollo knew that he could not stay with the Hospice much longer. For all the kindness they had shown him, he knew he was starting to leach off of them. His wounds had long since healed, though the scars remained, he was able bodied now. He needed to find a way to either start repaying them for their care, or find some place to start looking for his lost memories.

So it was on this day, that Rollo Al'Vandraset made his way towards Sister Alia Anor's office; the two of them needed to talk. Not finding Sister Alia Anor in her office, he asked around and quickly found out she was over seeing a new building being raised for the Temple. Nodding his thanks to sister Rosemerta, Rollo put on his red breastplate, bracers, pauldroon, grieves, and boots; and rode out towards where the Orphanage was being erected.

[Rollo]

Well over a month had passed since his slight interaction with Sister Alia Anor. A month of absolute silence.

No word had come from her, in regards to his proposal for the Orphanage. No notification on wether or not she had delivered the idea to this "Brother Zed". However there was little else he could do but wait, and maintain the routine he had established for himself at the Hospice.

Rising early, Rollo would make his way into the kitchens to help the cooks as best be could. Mostly it was gathering whatever they required for the days meals. Once that minor task was completed, he made his way out to the stables and made sure the horses had plenty of feed, and went so far as to clean out the stalls. By the time the boys rose to do this job themselves, all that was left for them to do, was simple brush or bathe the horses as needed. And fill the water trough of course.

Once returned to his rooms, Rollo sent a request for a bowl of hot water, along with a washclothe and a bar of soap. Cleaning away the stench of the stables and whatever was on his hands from helping out the cooks. This done, he went about the laborous task of cleansing his armor. The design upon it was still foreign to his cloudy memory.

It was almost daunting for him to go about this empty life without knowing where he had come from; yet there was no other course of action to choose from. The armorers in the city could not tell him where his exotic armor was made, nor of any smith that had a rumor for creating such designs. He was absolutley, posotively, stuck in Rhydin with no place to go. All he had was the Hospice. And the Orphanage beyond that.

Returning to the stables, red armor gleaming in the noon sun, he walked the strange warhorse out of the stable yard and made his way towards Battlefield Park.

[Rollo]

Moving about the hospice performing one duty or that to help the sisters perform their multitude of tasks had helped to pass the time. But once again Roll had grown restless. Another month had passed since he had recieved the note from Sister Alia-Anor. Her abscese seemed to be troubling, but then again she was a very busy woman.

"Perhaps she merely is caught up in her work. It happens from time to time with priests and priestesses. Still, I believe I will ride to the Orphanage and look in on her."

Moving to the stables, he barked orders in quick succession. The stable lads jumping quickly to do as they were told. Within moments he was riding out of the gate, Mandarb's, or Blade as it was pronounced, hooves working at a ground eating pace, with the moon rising high in the cloudy sky.