[CHURCH]  COMPENDIUM XV
RELIGION, PLAGUE, AND THE BORED INQUISITOR


	*****		*****		*****


It was late when Semareth passed the door to the exer
cise room.

A sliver of dim light had escaped into the corridor, 
alerting him that someone was inside.

He opened the door quietly, Thai sat on the floor with 
a variety of weapons arrayed around her and a pair of tall amber 
candles before her.

Her legs were drawn up to her chin, which rested on her 
knees.

After a moments delay her eyes shifted from the candles 
to him in slight surprise.

He closed the door quietly. "Am I disturbing you?"

She thought and shook her head no, considering something.

"Is something wrong..." 

She started to shake her head and then stopped. Her head 
raised up to support itself. "Why did you join the church 
Semareth? I never asked you."

Semareth crossed his arms and looked down at her with a 
puzzled look on his face. He leaned back against the door.

"An interesting question.", he said, and paused, uncertain
how to continue. He looked down at the weapons laying neatly on 
the floor, and sighed. "I was born to a Church," he began, "a 
church dedicated to a nearly forgotten god, worshipped by my 
people when the world was enveloped in chaos. It was my life, and 
I served it well. First as an acolyte, then as I grew up, as a 
Knight Templar...".

He shook his head, and frowned.

"Leaving the church was a mistake. I sought to discover 
adventure and amazement from outside my lands, travelling South 
in search of something _more_. I did not find it.". He gestured 
at the weapons around him, "It is only now that I realise that 
my purpose in life is no different from these swords, and axes. 
I am but a weapon, a tool, to be wielded and controlled by my god 
and none other." The way he spoke seemed to imply that he held no 
allegiances but those to his god.

"The Church is my life-source, deaconess. Even should 
this grotesque collection of rocks and furniture cease to be, 
the Church will still exist.", he clenched his right hand in 
front of him as if signifying reality, "Look around you, and 
think - without faith, in _something_, then none of this would 
exist. None of this would be possible.", he swept his arm around 
him in a levelling gesture.

He frowned, and his mouth closed on words he dare not 
say. Already he had said too much. Refolding his arms, he glared 
silently down at Thai...

Thai watched him intently a moment longer and then smiled 
fondly.

"Everyone has something they believe in and live for, and 
anything is possible. Why so formal Semareth? You know my name. 
Deaconess is only a title, a reflection of what the people we 
deceive believe me to be. Please, sit."

Semareth eased himself to the ground, cross-legged. His cloak 
draped over his shoulders as if the beginning of a ceremonial 
robe. He folded his arms again, as if ready to defend himself 
from something.

Thai smiled fondly at him, shaking her head, then 
frowned slightly.

"I am not as close to my god as you are to yours. Perhaps 
it is my failing, yet I do try to follow her beliefs. Please, 
tell me of your god and why he wishes you to serve another. 
Perhaps I can help you."

Semareth was slightly surprised at the question, but something 
in him told him that Thai deserved an answer. He picked up a 
dagger and began flipping it in the air and catching it, blade first.

"My god, Sh'aljien, is a god of darkness. He is _not_ an evil god, 
nor is he 'good', he merely seeks to prevent mankind from 
destroying not only themselves, but the earth itself. Strongest 
of the strictures of his church is that mankind can only achieve 
enlightenment through themselves, and not through those infernal 
powers such as magic, or psionics.", he looked at her as the 
dagger fell through the air. He caught it neatly between his 
index finger and thumb. "People who use those powers without 
first achieving some level of enlightenment are viewed as a 
danger to society. It is the church's responsibility to seek out 
these people and reduce the danger either through conversion or 
cleansing. Those who convert, and attain sufficient spiritual 
enrichment soon find themselves capable of much more than 
previously... just like weapons training (the dagger looped 
upwards once more), they find that they are much more balanced, 
and controlled in their use of power."

He frowned slightly, "There are other strictures, many more, 
which are harder to explain." He looked at Thai as if doubting 
she understood what he had already said. She appeared deep in 
thought.

The dagger came arcing back down towards the floor.

Thai looked up suddenly, "Do you support Proctor John?". She 
took a big risk in just asking that question, but she needed to 
know.

Semareth fumbled the catch, cutting open his left glove, and 
finally catching the dagger in a firm grip in his right hand. 
Unscratched obsidian gleamed from beneath his gloved hand. 
Semareth looked at it, a frown creasing his forehead.

"He knows not the way.", he replied. "He is one who believes in 
magic as a means of solving every situation. Indeed, I believe 
he even requires it to _live_", he hissed the last, as if the 
mere thought were vile. He opened his other hand, letting the 
dagger drop to the floor. Where he had caught the dagger's 
blade in his clenched fist, there was only a thin slit across 
his hand where the skin was already healing over. He showed it 
to Thai, "There is strength in faith, deaconess. Much more than 
there would ever be in magic." he had used her title again, to 
remind her of what she was pretending to be, of who she could 
be. "To too many people, magic is a means of achieving what they 
want with little effort, it spawns from weakness. Faith is 
strength. Only when you come from faith, can magic be truly 
powerful.". He closed his hands together. The whiteness of his 
right hand overlapped the cold obsidian of his left, as if to 
hide it.

He looked at Thai with his steely gaze. 
"You plan to leave the Church?", he picked up the dagger once 
more, and spun it between his fingers, as he awaited her reply.

Thai stared into his marvelous eyes. He had said what 
she was only just beginning to understand on her own. She had 
been like those he despised, using magic to make herself 
stronger. What was she now? she didn't know yet.

"Yes." 

Thai pursed her lips to continue, but didn't know what 
to say.

"Astarte is neither good nor evil, but she champions 
those who choose a path and find their inner strength. I didn't 
know until I came here that I'd been missing something in my 
life. I thought my magic would give me the answers..."

Her gaze swept over the weapons arrayed about her. She 
touched the crimson and black wrapped hilt of a long sword, 
plain and unornamented, but striking in its brutal elegance and 
stark simplicity of color and design.

"I know now I was wrong."

She looked back at Semareth, wanting him to understand
what she didn't yet understand about herself. "I'm changing, 
learning so many things... I want... I want something. Something 
that matters. Something that is worthwhile."

"I..." She wanted to tell him about Jarrad, but the words 
 wouldn't come. Before Jarrad she had been Semareth's. 

"Help me."

Semareth stopped the spinning dagger, and placed it on the ground 
before Thai. He looked at it for awhile, then spoke.

"Astarte sounds like a fair and reasonable goddess. I believe 
it is in her that you should seek your strength.", he couldn't 
bring himself to hug her. "It sounds like Astarte and Sh'aljien 
could be walking very similar paths. If you seek help and 
guidance, follow your goddess, Thai. I will help you where I can, 
but as you said, the true strength is from within.". In the back 
of his mind, some darkness stirred, he tried to seek out the 
source, but all he saw was shadow... He opened his mouth to say 
more, but stopped. A troubled look disappeared from his face as 
quickly as it appeared.

Thai smiled and rose gracefully. She stepped away from 
the weapons to kneel beside the High Inquisitor, kissed him 
gently then released him. 

"Thank you."

Semareth looked her in the eyes for one solid moment, looking as if he 
were trying to read her very soul. He shook his head and stood hurriedly.

"I will do what I can, deaconess. I will try."

Then with a whirl of his cloak, he opened the door and was gone.
--Nick Takayama/Phaedra Whitlock

"Hello Maeve. Sorry to put you in danger with this meeting, but I
have a couple of issues that may need attention. Firstly, It is quite
probable that myself and a person fleeing from the church will need
shelter, Can you give directions to the camp?
--Paul Khangure

Inwardly Maeve smiled, but outwardly she kept a poker face. So nobody
knew where the Camp was? That was good. Very good. She would have to
keep cautious. "Perhaps," she said cautiously. "Who is that person
fleeing from the Church you speak of?"
--Marie Kelly

Jarrad felt the smile, although her facial control was quite remarkable.
An advantage of psionics, was that card games lost their unpredictability.
"I cannot tell you." Jarrad replied. "This person is in extreme danger at 
the moment, and I cannot put them at any more risk. I know this is 
unreasonable, but I am asking for your trust anyway."
--Paul Khangure

Secondly, It is quite possible that a final confrontation will be 
happening soon, for better or worse. Do you want a part in that? or
do you know others who do? Pass the word if you feel it safe to do 
so.
--Paul Khangure

"Before it was my policy to let others deal with their own problems,
not concern myself with them, and leave when things got too bad. Now, I
fear, it is too great for me to do that without losing something of
myself."
--Marie Kelly

"You have to make that decision for yourself. Noone else can do it. 
Whatever choice you make, I will respect it for that."
--Paul Khangure

Now that the wards on Thai's chambers had been changed, Jarrad was able 
to jaunt straight there. Reaching out, Thai seemed at peace, so Jarrad 
assumed it safe to jaunt.

Arriving in Thai's chambers in the church, Jarrad found her sitting on 
the floor meditating.

"Stressful day?" Jarrad asked, as he moved around to behind her. "Try 
this," he used his hands to massage the muscles in her neck and 
shoulders, gently working out the tension.

She smiled and relaxed against him.

One thing led to another, then a few hours later ....

"Oh Jarrad. I'm so tired of people. I was talking to a new healer 
named Draca earlier. She's a psionic and a mage of sorts, and a 
healer by default because of the way her magic works. She's 
joining my mageguard."

"Psionic?" Jarrad asked. "I might pay this healer a visit. She may 
have some useful information, or maybe some other lost knowledge." 
I hope the church isn't going to be too hard on her?

"She has many secrets, one of them relating to who and what she 
is. Be careful, I don't want to lose her."

Jarrad promised he wouldn't, and the conversation moved on to 
other things.
--Paul Khangure

Mauq was now very bored.  He had been unable to find Semareth
anywhere, so he decided to head to the Deaconesses quarters to ask her
about any orders she might have for him.

Upon reaching the door he felt his cheek once more and redied
himself for another dressing down.  As he raised his hand to knock on 
the door he thought he heard talking.  (No matter.  It's likely this
is where the High Inquisitor has been all along.)
--Samson Gonzalez

As the night drew on, and the risk of detection increased, Jarrad knew 
he had to leave. Regretting that he had to depart, and waiting for 
the time they wouldn't be separated by need, Jarrad jaunted to the 
inn leaving an unhappy Thai behind.
--Paul Khangure


He knocked on the door awaiting an answer.  He knew they were in 
there.  If they would not respond then he would wait till one or both of
them left and confront them then.
--Samson Gonzalez

Thai hurriedly slipped back into a robe, a gold embroidered, 
red gauzy thing that hid very little, which was of course the 
idea. 

She pushed her long black hair back from her face and 
opened the door. Her tolerant if annoyed expression changed to 
surprise as she saw the Inquisitor who'd caused her such trouble 
two days earlier.

Mauq stared at the Deaconess, most definitely NOT dressed 
in black church robes. Although the hem of the silk "dress" 
reached to the floor, the slits up each side showed off her legs.

She didn't look very cold though as her eyes ran over him 
and she smiled slightly.
--Phaedra Whitlock--

"Wha..hmm."  Was his only reaction for a while as his brain
took a few steps sideways.
--Samson Gonzalez

'What an interesting aura.' she thought. 'Why didn't I notice 
him before?'

"May I help you Inquisitor?" 
--Phaedra Whitlock

"Ah.. is High Inquisitor Semareth here?  I thought I heard his
voice."  Mauq had the sudden thought that perhaps he had interupted
the two in more...personal matters than church business.  

"Please, forgive me if I am interupting anything.  It's just
that I have been trying all day to seek an audience with him without
success so I came to see you."  He ruffles through his pouches and 
recovers a scroll Proctor John had written for her explaining that
this was Mauq L'Arain, now to be in the position Leutenant Inquisitor
under Semareths command.  

He hands her the scroll, trying his best to fake passing glances
as his eyes wander. 
--Samson Gonzales

Thai took the scroll and skimmed its contents, noting that 
this man was to be her liason to Semareth, then rerolled it.

She sighed deeply, well aware of Mauq's distraction and 
enjoying it.

"The High Inquisitor is a VERY busy man Inquisitor L'Arain."

"And I'm afraid he is... occupied... this evening," she said 
lying through her teeth. She had left him only a few hours ago in the 
exercise room, both going to their beds.

As Mauq had heard Jarrad's voice it was best he believe 
Semareth was in her room. She hadn't opened the door enough for 
the Inquisitor to see if her bed was occupied thank the gods.

She gave Mauq a dazzling smile and exerted a bit of her 
glamour as well as she continued. "I'll be certain to see that he 
reads your message before tomorrow. 

"Perhaps we could talk further, in the morning Inquisitor 
L'Arain. The mageguard assembles at 9 in the court. I'll expect to 
see you there."
--Phaedra Whiutlock

"Certainly."
--Sam Gonzales

AFTER I've talked to Semareth and given him your message 
of course.

"Good night Inquisitor L'Arain."
--Phaedra Whitlock

"Good night, then Deaconess."  He made sure to have one last good
look as the door closed.  And naturally he was in the courtyard the next 
morning at 9.
--Sam Gonzalez

Those of great power all over Ifreann could hear his call:

*My name is Khajjkar.  I want your souls.*
--[Unknown]

Semareth paused as he walked down one of the secret hallways of the 
Church. The voice had been a whisper in his head, but it was not 
Sh'aljien. Khajjkar, it had said. He shook his head.

He would wait for this Khajjkar, should he appear. But his soul belonged 
to Sh'aljien and no other, that much was certain.

He flipped the hidden catch in the wall, and stepped into darkness.
--Nick Takayama

The Church had been rather frustrated by Smith.  He had
killed their troops, destroyed their property, and spread
considerable propaganda about them.  Then, when finally
captured as a result of Enrico's treachery and Semareth's
scheming, Smith had killed himself before he could be
properly chastised for his rebellion.

Then, there was the issue of his consorting with Dragons.
Everyone knew that Smith had invited Dralen, a large Silver
Dragon, to live with him.  The Church had been able to
convince quite a few folk that Dragon-kind were evil and
destructive.

Finally, there was the way Smith had started the whole 
thing.  He had destroyed his own house in a powerful explosion,
as if he had a premonition of things to come.  So, it was
only natural that some of the more curious Mageguards decided
to see what they might find at the site.  Besides, at only
2 miles south of the Dragon's Inn, it was hardly an unpleasant
walk on an early fall day;  and, with 6 of them, surely they 
could overcome any possible dangers.  Especially since Smith
was dead and the Dragon was long gone.  One of them decided to
invite Draca to come along, an invitation she accepted eagerly,
if for no other reason than to get out into the fresh air and
sunshine.

The seven got to where the house had been, and saw little but a
deep crater in the earth.  The sides had globs of green glass
melted in spots, and there were large chunks of stone strewn
about as if a great giant had scattered them at random.  A few
bits and pieces of trash that might once have been furniture 
were found, but all in all it looked to be a fruitless visit.

One of the Mageguards spotted a shiny object protruding from the
ground.  It was badly dented, part of it was melted, but it looked
interesting enough.  He went up, and pressed against it with a 
boot...to his delight, a largely intact cylinder was unearthed.
He picked it up and looked closer.  There had once been some sort
of writing, but that was long since destroyed.  A strange symbol...
sort of like a starfish, but not exactly, had survived the explosion;
could this be one of Smith's destructive devices?

Calling to his companions, who quickly came to his side, the
lucky Mageguard inspected the cylinder, and spotted a thin
line around the cylinder.  He twisted and turned, but it wouldn't
move...finally, one of the other guards suggested letting Draca
take a look at it.  She recognized the reek of technology, and 
thought strongly toward Dralen as she asked *Dralen, I've found
one of Smith's technological devices.  What should I do with it?*
Dralen, who had been playing with Cheren, thought back *Draca,
most of his devices are terrible, destructive weapons that can
kill great numbers.  If it were in the wrong hands, it could cause
enormous suffering.  Destroy it, but be careful!*

Draca looked closely at the item, then touched it and held the amulet.
She cast a spell using the powers of her mind and will alone, for
by her own choice, her vocal chords were temporarily atrophied.  Had
the mageguards been able to see into her mind, they would have perhaps
recognized use of the ancient tongue of dragonkind.  The cylinder
emitted a faint click as the technology was broken by the spell,
and Draca permitted herself an inner smile of satisfaction.  This
was one weapon that wouldn't hurt anyone!

One of the other mageguards gave the cylinder a twist, and soon
had it open.  Inside was a shattered glass vial, and some oily
liquid.  Whatever it was, it seemed of little use now.  The man
who had found the cylinder looked more closely, got a bit of the 
liquid on him, and wiped it off on his tunic.  He shrugged...just one of
Smith's weird toys...and tossed the metal cylinder into the
crater as they departed.  Soon, they had returned to Montfort, and
went about their normal duties.  Behind them, a wind out of the South
blew gently, as the spilled liquid rapidly evaporated.

Two of them went to visit Hugh's place, the Dragon's Inn.  One of them
helped some of Montfort's old people across the busy Avenue of Triumph.
Another went to the marketplace, and shook hands with several merchants
who had recently joined the Church.  The fifth Mageguard took a message
to Clermont's Capitol, the City of Bleckner.  And the sixth visited the
orphanage, making it a point to greet some of the orphans and patting 
them on the head affectionately.

That night, they returned to their barracks, and shared a congenial
meal with other Church personnel.  One of them had an arm wrestling
contest with several Inquisitors;  a delightful evening was had by all.
The generally congenial atmosphere made it particularly odd that
Draca began suffering the strangest dreams.  She felt as if there
were a buzzing in her head that she couldn't get rid of;  unpleasant,
but not that serious.  Looking about within the dream, she saw a wraith-like
being with Smith's face, standing in mid-air above his ruined abode, and
laughing, as the buzzing grew louder....and there the dream ended.

For several days and nights, matters went on as always, and there was
hardly a person in Montfort and surrounding areas that one or another
of the Mageguards had not come into contact with, for they were after
all messengers.  As for Draca, the dreams had continued and had gotten
worse.  Tonight was the worst of all.  She had felt cold, and hungry...
and the infernal buzzing was back.  She tried to look around within the
dream, but everything was dark, as if she were struck blind.  Controlling
her emotion, she willed herself to see the being with Smith's face, and
she demanded an answer of him.  Behind her, she heard words...was it
the voice of the Wise One, or another?...and she turned to see a sparkling
constellation of lights, just as one of the little lights went out.
The voice said "Sometimes the most dangerous sword is one who thinks
she's a plowshare".  As Draca awoke from the nightmare, she tried
to hang onto the memory..what was going on?  What was she supposed to
know?  There was an intuition that an important message was in the
recurring nightmare.  And, a desperation, for the nightmare was 
happening more often, now, and with greater intensity.  The settings
had been in Montfort alone, but now the dream images seemed to come
from  other areas too...

At breakfast, a week after the cylinder had first been found, the
Mageguard who had first had a drop of oily fluid on his skin started
trembling uncontrollably.  As he stood shakily, he said "I'm....blind...".
Before a healer could be called, he had fallen to the ground, dead due
to a complete failure of the central nervous system.  He was the first
mageguard to die, though if anyone had cared several of Montfort's
homeless had already died thus.

The inscription on the cylinder, had it been readable, would have
told that the 'Hermes' virus was inside.  One of Smith's old weapons
>from  his Company days, the virus was highly contagious and operated
on human-kind only.  It attacked the nerves, brain, and nervous system,
causing irreversable damage.  Blindness was always quickly followed by heart
failure.  The weak and sick would be overcome before the young and healthy.
Of course, the virus was not technological;  only the locks that kept 
the cylinder intact were.  Thus, when Draca had destroyed the technology,
she had started a chain of events that resulted in the release of the
virus.

In Bleckner, a rather sickly old man fell to the ground after crying
out that he had been struck blind.  A new horror had begun...a great
plague threatened the land, and panic lept like fire as the news 
spread...
--JLSmith

Yon had been following the watch, Mikhael in charge, for a while now. 
They had encountered the usual run of dishonourable scum taking advantage 
of the civil unrest, and he had found himself slipping further and 
further into a mechanical state. These people were hardly even worth the 
effort it took to remove them - but at least there was honour of a kind 
in protecting the shopkeepers trying to make their own (mostly) honest 
living.

But then things changed. Subtly at first. The streets had a tension that 
even he could feel. The peasants were afraid of something more than 
merely the church, or the thieves and brigands.

And then the bodies started to appear. Corpses in the alleyways were 
followed by deaths in the streets and shops of Montford as the plague began.
As always, there were those who would take advantage of any oppotunity, 
and the watch found looters - thieving and stripping even as the plague 
victims cooled in their houses.

Those he dealt with in the same manner as any other. Where Mikhael was 
willing, the corpses of the looters were left among the blind and dying. 
Where he was not, they were passed live on to the local authorities - what 
matter was it if they were missing a hand, or an arm. Yon's spear did 
much work in those days, and was never seen to be blunt.

Among it all Yon remained expressionless and passionless, though he 
wondered where the town's healers were, and whether the church would do 
anything. It seemed unthinkable that any church worthy of the name - 
though certainly only the barbarians would consider such things necessary 
- would allow the death of so many of the innocent.

Yet he knew what was going to happen. There would be riots. And when they 
came, there would be no honour in the watch or in the entire of Montford. 
There would only be fear. And death.
--Martin Cox 

Fistan had not been feeling well the previous day.  He was feeling far 
worse now, and noted that his wife and nine year old son were beginning 
to feel it too.

He had noticed yesterday various people around the town suffering the
same symptoms as him [ADMIN - I've forgotten what they are though], and
was worried that this could soon become an epidemic.  Indeed, it may well
already have become so, as he hadn't been out.  He coughed rather
unhealthily as he sat in bed, unable to get up this morning and open his
store up for business. 

"When will this end?" he thought to himself.  "Is there anybody 
working on a cure?"

Little did Fistan the grocery store owner know that some hundreds of 
miles away a group of dragons were at that very moment preparing to cast 
a spell to cleanse Montford of the plague.

They waited only for the reply of Draca to Red's call.
--JPGallagher