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Tranquil Waters: The Lead Crown Ch 7.5, Proclamations

Wiesen had never found any great joy when it came to digging in the dirt and gardening was no exception to the rule. He understood that a certain breed of man or woman found joy in tilling soil to help things grow but the Dragon's own passion was creating in a much more direct method. What the time in Dr. Brownell's garden DID give him however was a chance to speak with the enigmatic Friar Flew.

If there was one person in Lehsunia the Church sough as fervently as himself it was the Raccoon Dog Monk. Just why that was, Wiesen couldn't say, and yet, kneeling next to him, digging in the dirt, appearing as harmless as little kit playing in the mud was a man who had been sentenced to execution for heresy. It seemed strange that the Monk had been able to escape but, then again, he had come to realize that the man had help... some very capable help. "Friar Arlowe... I do not suppose you would be interested in telling me about your escape from the Cathedral?"

The Raccoon Dog's ear closest to the Dragon swiveled to face him though the Monk did not. Friar Arlowe's counter-question gave him the answer. "Would you be interested in talking about your escape from the Mehnzilian Mustering Grounds?"

Wiesen let out a casual snort clenching a talon as he remembered what it had looked like covered in blood. "I admire the way you managed to escape without any needless death... unfortunately I cannot say I accomplished the same."

The Monk finally set down his spade and turned to regard the Dragon. "You aren't here for me... that much I understand, but YOU must understand that having another one of the Church's quarry so nearby is good for neither of us."

The Dragon appreciated Friar Arlowe's concern for safety, but he saw things a different way. "On the contrary, Friar Arlowe... I believe that it is far safer for us to be together than it is to be separate."

The Raccoon Dog stood facing him, silent. Wiesen could tell that the Monk was taking the time to appraise the suggestion; the fact that Friar Arlowe was a thinker helped the Dragon make up his mind about something, and the Monk's response only reaffirmed it. "The Church will be able to muster a stronger force if they know we are together... staying apart requires them to split their attention."

The Dragon nodded, appreciating the fact that he got the Monk at least thinking about it. Wiesen, however, had already spent far longer considering it. "But separately we cannot put up as great a fight... should it come to that."

Friar Arlowe's next words gave him pause. "If you really think we should be traveling together then you should know WHY we plan on returning to Newport."

Wiesen took a moment to consider what he knew about the Raccoon Dog and his followers. "I had thought you were going in order to warn the Princess of some clandestine attempt against the crown."

The Monk shook his head. "That is only part of our journey. Our main purpose is to confront the Church and demand that they release envoys from the Sisters Divine."

The Dragon tapped his chin with a talon in thought. "The Church is holding members of the Order of the Sisters Divine of the Holy Hearth? This is news indeed..."

The comment caught the attention from the Raccoon Dog, whose ears perked up. "You know of them?"

Wiesen nodded. "An eastern sect of devout worshippers... they follow the grand tenants though their specific views of Lord God differ from those of the Mehnzilian Church. I had long suspected there would eventually be conflict, but I never assumed that it would be so blatant as in the Church taking prisoners unprovoked."

The Monk cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with the discussion. "There may have been some reasons... valid or... otherwise."

The Dragon didn't need to consider very long to reach a theory. "It has something to do with the pretty young cat in your group, I would assume."

Friar Arlowe went back to weeding. "That would be an accurate assumption."

The talk hadn't gone in the direction Wiesen had hoped, but it had been productive regardless. "All the more reason we should consider sticking together, Friar. I can tell that you still have your own thoughts to attend to-- please excuse me."

With the simple dismissal, Wiesen returned to the cottage; in light of his discoveries he had a lot more to consider. The Dragon understood much more clearly that he and Friar Arlowe were not the only reason for the Church to be up in arms, and the fact that they were courting conflict with the Sisters meant only one thing: there were forces beyond the obvious. All the more reason for him to be concerned about the Mechanists.

The Techlar wandered by the room where Inigo was being treated; the Bat had fought valiantly but unfortunately had succumbed to Bartholmeu's men before his allies could get to him. According to Dr. Brownell he would survive the injuries but it didn't help Wiesen feel any better about being unable to aid him. Peering in through the open doorway he saw the doctor speaking with the scholar, Tobias. The two were talking quietly while the Mouse was using a mortar and pestle to crush and mix a collection of herbs.

Roland apparently knew the Prong Horn in a formal capacity from University so that had eased Wiesen's concerns. Tobias Severna was the antelope's name, and apparently his field of study was understanding the Tribals, their way of life, and the wilderness around them. The Dragon couldn't help but wonder if that meant Tobias was familiar with Professor Julius Blackburn; if so, perhaps he was fortunate in finding an ally. Then again, if he was THAT familiar with the Bear then Wiesen would probably have to keep an eye on him and be in the lookout for a cog ring.

Continuing down the hall, the Dragon passed another room where Brother Jessen was hard at work assisting one of Dr. Brownell's assistant with an injured Tribal otter. Wiesen smiled to himself when he saw that Sada was there as well, talking quietly with her fellow Otter in the Tribal tongue. The woman was full of surprises and, he had to admit, lately more of them were turning out to be positive than negative-- it was a good change to his life.

Sanoval surprised him, suddenly at his side. Wiesen was impressed that he hadn't heard the Human approach and only knew he was there because he spoke up. "How is she?"

It was unnecessary for him to clarify because it was obvious about whom he spoke. "She is doing much good for the patient... having someone to talk to is good for body and soul. Other than that, quite likely still angry with you, I would assume."

The Human nodded. "A side effect of exposure to me for long periods... not at all unlike mercury, I'm told."

The Dragon's ear sails raised. "How is that, precisely?"

Sandoval smirked. "I tend to drive people mad."

Wiesen matched the Human's smile. "I see... and you are still contemplating courting death by seeking out Alarice?"

The man nodded decisively. "For good or ill, I have unfinished business with her... and I fear that will not conclude until one of us is dead."

The Dragon raised an eye ridge, feeling suddenly ill at ease. He took a step back. "You mean to fight her, then?"

Sandoval raised both his hands placating. "No... peace, my friend. What I mean to say is that Alarice and I cannot exist in the same world... either she will continue living as she is now and I will be one more of her conquests, or she will set aside her persona and accept that she is not who she has become."

Wiesen looked the man over critically. "How do you mean?"

The Human shrugged, his eyes fading into a far off gaze. "She is not who she should be, my friend... and I must help her realize that, or die trying."

The Dragon wanted to press the inquiry further but he was interrupted when Friar Arlowe appeared at the end of the hall. He didn't miss the way the Monk addressed him by his nickname. "Crook.... there is a man here."

Wiesen about-faced to look at the Raccoon Dog. "A man? What does he want?"

The Monk cleared his throat. "He is here looking for 'Sir Wiesen'."

The Dragon nodded, not even bothering to excuse himself from Sandoval. He strode toward the door, stopping in his trip only to gather up his tool bag. Keeping one talon slipped into one of the holsters inside of it, he followed Friar Arlowe out into the garden where a slim white Fox waited for him. Wiesen decided to be direct. "Yes?"

The Fox smiled, raising a paw to slide his golden bangs out of his blue eyes as he leaned against the fence-post. "Ah-- you must be Sir Wiesen."

Wiesen didn't mind being blunt. "And you are?"

The man went into a graceful bow. "Sanmer LeMarre, sir. The Princess sent me to find you."

The Dragon was no less reserved. "The Princess? Why?"

The Fox's smile never wavered. "We found something of yours and she thinks you might want him back."