Fellowship of the Dice

Fannar listens politely to the long string of names and titles, "Such glorious titles, so many of them." He scratches his wolf behind the ear and says something to the wolf in a language that none of you know, perhaps the speech of the Illians Seers. Smiling he folds his arms over his chest and looks at the Elf, "If you wish to know the answers to your questions Allareia-Nosaki-na'Tirris Arrasul-Elassyrin-el'Tirion then you shall have to come to my services. All will be made clear in the course of my teachings. I fear it is far too complex a matter to give some answer now." His Elohim speech is spot on, with only a minor accent that those who known the language can not place.

Braedon ponders the thought of attending services for any deity, let alone that of the Winter God. For now he decides to say nothing on the matter. He has been in the church the whole time, but is last to introduce himself. "Braedon Kovich, nice to meet you. Over there is my wolf Aela." With a slight sigh, "If you don't mind, what is your wolf's name?"

Fannar shakes hands with Braedon, "A pleasure Mr. Kovich." He looks between the wolves, "That is Mjallhvít, he's happy to see Aela. Perhaps they will become friends or pack mates, like I hope we shall." He gazes at Aela for a long while, "She's a find example of her kind, a beauty."

Vardaen wrote:Fannar listens politely to the long string of names and titles, "Such glorious titles, so many of them." He scratches his wolf behind the ear and says something to the wolf in a language that none of you know, perhaps the speech of the Illians Seers. Smiling he folds his arms over his chest and looks at the Elf, "If you wish to know the answers to your questions Allareia-Nosaki-na'Tirris Arrasul-Elassyrin-el'Tirion then you shall have to come to my services. All will be made clear in the course of my teachings. I fear it is far too complex a matter to give some answer now." His Elohim speech is spot on, with only a minor accent that those who known the language can not place.

As usual, Dreams frown briefly at a non-elf trying to pronounce her language, but ignores it for the moment--she has bigger fish to fry. She shakes her head and smiles and says, "You're not a very good salesman. How am I going to be persuaded to purchase your wares without a look at what they are? I fear my own patron deities would not look well on me coming to your services--but I might be willing to do so and pray for their understanding if I was convinced that you had Falcon's Hollow's best interests at heart. So tell me at least a bit--if not of your teachings, then how you came to this path."

"You speak Elohim very well for a human," Celevan replies. "I can barely hear an accent at all. It's a complicated language. Where did you learn it so well?"

Fannar first replies to Celavan, there is a hint of something in his voice, a wry satisfaction perhaps, "Thank you Evan, I fear my accent is going to be heard in any language I speak." Its true, the same accent is heard in his common speech, a regional accent you guess. "I learned it in my youth, along with the speech of many other peoples. I have a gift for tongues, but I confess that blessing is just one of many gifts from Mulcarn I have."

He then looks to Dreams, and his tone changes ever so slightly to the defensive as she barrages him with questions and frowns. "I'm not selling anything, if you came here expecting to buy divine inspiration then you wholly misunderstand my purpose in Falcon's Hollow. I am no cheap carnival peddler selling snake oils or empty promises of forgotten gods." His mood has changed, "I have traveled many miles, and only just arrived here. I am not prepared to sit and give you a private sermon today Elf. I would hardly be a good sheepherder if I spent all my time with only one sheep, to the detriment of the flock. Come back when I have settled in, and have the ear of the community and I can speak to more than just you alone. Everyone deserves a chance to hear what I have to say equally, and to accept my teaching, unless you feel you are so special that you are above the locals of this town. But then afterwards if you still are set in your narrow minded ways laid down by Junil or Lugus or Nantosuelta we can speak and I can make time for you." He seems to grow a bit taller, and motions at the door, his bearing great, "Now if you don't mind, I have come a long distance and this has tired me out. I must make ready to receive the villagers and prepare my home."

"Of course," Celevan replies. "We don't want to be a burden. We just wanted to get a chance to meet you. We'll let you settle in now."

"Thank you Evan, please return for my first service, it won't be a long one, but I'll want to get to know the locals. I suspect I'll be spending a good long many years here and I want to get off on the right foot." He offers to shake Celevan's hand in good-bye and anyone else that would be willing. Then he stands and scratches his wolf behind the ear as you head out.

Dreams bows to Winterson and says, "Forgive me. My curiosity and skepticism got the better of me and I forgot how weary you must be. We will take our leave so you may rest. Perhaps we may talk more later." As far as she can tell, Winterson is genuinely tired and not being deliberately evasive. She's still suspicious, but finds her curiosity about this man's story genuinely peaked.

Drak quietly bows his head and then retreats to the outside.