"Ah, 'tis a mighty gift you have in such transmogrifying powers. I envy you your wings. My own studies are much focused on the pressing deadline, as yet might say, so perhaps by the time I am done brewing m' wee drink, I might have the half the skill needed for such a trick.
"I s'pose we had best be agreeing to a peace treaty 'twixt ourselves before our country's politics have a chance to get 'tween us," adds the Irishman in a brogue that seems to thicken as he thinks of it.
"Oh, practically. Quite surprising, actually. I suspect some of my brethren had played a wee joke on Patrick the Unrepentant, for I'd understood the place to be well established when I left. Of course, I am delighted to have arrived at the beginning of such a marvelous undertaking. As the Master says, The oarsman's mind is free from distraction. I have already spotted a few sites which show the promise of vis, and a few wee beasties which are worth some time pursuing. Though I really think we ought to spend some time emptying out the caverns. Fascinating history down there, waiting for us to find it."
"I'd be more than happy to give you hints and help should you be keen; its not as rather difficult as first made out by most, and I do love to banter on about transformations. A friend once observed that I could make even a Bjornaer leave the dinner table, although I hope he was joking..."
..now you'd start by covering simplistically the readings of Sancrux of Bjornaer, but skimp over the observations of pedigree, and instead relate back to Plato and his discussion of theory of forms ans shapes...sympathy of strong... " OOC: If given an opportunity, he could/will talk at length.
"Oh. It is a little embarrassing again, but I was not aware of a slight or major impact between the Isles - well not with the Irish folk. I really didn't pay heed at all to the ramblings of my Master when he tried to induct me into the social politic."
"Now Scotland I know is borne a grudge which cannot be ignored by a faithful Englishman, but I've always found your countrymen to be amicable and friendly. In fact, I dare say I care not at all for the politics of mundanes. In fact for the most part my associates have been gathered from all parts of the Isles and we became fast friends.
I did meet a prickly Scotti Ex Miscellanea once who was proclaiming all others broken and corrupt, and for the most part we just ignored him. Giving attention to the flamboyant just fuels the fire of their passion. (to himself) Now what was that quote about wrestling muddy pigs? Hmm. "
"...then perhaps I may join you when you next head out, or at the very least let us coordinate our travel, so we cover ground more efficiently. I am happy to scout by air the locales near the covenant, and see what treasures might be found. Otherwise a walking stroll is just as effective, if you'll share the road."
"...I have a hunch that my lack of local language will form a solid barrier to greeting the locals, but mapping can be conducted without tongues. I was thinking of starting there."
"...there is too the possibility of setting up a lab as well. I'll have to chat to the Queasitor about volunteering. She seems dependable, and a hopilite is always welcome I'd say."
"Oh, I do see what you're saying. Of course, Plato's discussion of geometric perfection is best exemplified by De architectura, by Vitruvius, and from there it is easy to extrapolate that just as there is a geometrically perfect circle, there also exists a geometrically perfect man, and bird. At which point, one could theoretically derive the relationship between the two. What I can never remember is..."
Having mentioned Plato to Patrick, it is hard to switch to any other subject.
You might possibly notice that his thick Irish accent dims almost entirely while discussing Hermetic subjects.
"Ah believe the quote you're looking for is, When wrestling a muddy pig, go for the eyes, for all else will be slippery. The Analects of Tytalus, Chapter 26, Verse 298, I believe. 'Tis quite a bit of truth in that, too, I must say, though I do think he might have mentioned that the blighters will try to tear your ear off, no matter how many times you explain the rules to them."
"Oh, aye, now that you mention it, a bit of stiff drink would go down well just at the moment. Patrick pulls out a wineskin filled with some despicable and poorly made local brew. "And thank ye kindly for the suggestion. Have the first swig.
"As fer yer suggestion, I have but one concern, and I will make it plain. I came to Tanais because I was told there were beasts worth hunting here, some whose entrails' value 'twas measured in vis, and others worth taming ta' sell as guard beasts. Neither have I found. I need the vis, as I turned 35 this year, and still not yet ready to brew m' wee drink. Were we to share the road, then the finder's prize for any vis source we might find would be split twain, and rightly so. Were it not for that mercantile and unjust concern, I would be glad for the company."
Then I'm sure that Fray will be happy to banter with Patrick whenever he is near!
"That might be the origin, but I heard a different version somewhat less tactical. It went:
'Don't mud wrestle with a pig, whatever happens you get dirty, and the pig enjoys it.' I think it has more to do with not engaging with those who wish to cause trouble. The lady who said it first to me had a knack for spotting troublemakers; she was the autocrat in a covenant. "
"Well then hard to argue with, and I understand the need. I had to go as far to have my own crafted by another, as I find longevity blisteringly perplexing. To have a limit so divine suspended, and yet still with a vicious sting and sour outcome; it hints that we have not fathomed the truth of magic. And certainly I am an absolute novice when it comes to that particular ritual."
Patrick seems quite dubious about the merits of this particular saying. "Well, of course the pig'll enjoy it. Why would ye want t' wrestle with someone who didnae want to be there?"
It is quite possible that there is a profound truth about the gentleman you've just met lurking here.
"Few have responded to my letters, and fewer still with reasonable proposals. S'more, the 'Caps won't loan me the vis, not on terms any sane man would take, lestways. Thankfully, the local library has tomes on the subjects in question, and I have some luck when it comes to deductive reasoning. With some diligence and ingenuity*, I should be able to produce a drink on the order of 10 magnitudes before I turn 37. It's finding the vis now, that is my concern.
May I ask how much yours cost you?"
= from this, it should be obvious that Patrick intends to experiment on his longevity potion.
Fray responds, his mood darkening a little, "I've heard tell, and experienced men who would fight and destroy beyond their causes, for ego alone. Some men just wish to see others fall, or see the world burn."
... and then brighter when talking about magic, "For my ritual I came to a special arrangement of trade with the Magus. He had a need with which I could assist, and it was an inexpensive way to gain his service. I gave up a season of my time assisting him in a private lab activity, and we were both the richer for it. And the required Vis plus a surcharge of course. It was not beyond a few pawns beyond that which was required for the ritual.
Being a Bonisagus is advantageous when other Magi seek clarity and increased lab performance. A promise and my discretion prohibits me speaking of the activity he conducted; but it was interesting."
"Aye, 'tis true." Patrick's response seems quiet somber, though he gives little indication of noticing the change in Fray's mood. "Thankfully for our Order, we have an entire House of magi willing to take up arms, just to put such wastrels in their place....if we can find them."
"Lucky you were, then. My own luck has not met out so well." There is a pause, dark and full of frustrated impotence.
"A lab rat, you say, here in the dark woods o' nowhere?" His use of the derogative seems to carry no ill-will. "You're a curious conundrum, I must say. I shall enjoy ferreting out the truth of ya. Have you deduced my own house yet?"
"I'm afraid I'm at a loss to know which choice House you mean, it is not obvious. Tytalus are a strong choice, along with Flambeau and Tremere if a violent approach is needed. The only Magi which should actually be passing judgement on others is the Quaesitory though; regardless of house."
"Would that more Criamon and Verditius and such take part in such affairs when requested by the Quaesitory, and we might see less death, and more enlightenment. The men of violence might not be led as far down a path where they cannot forgive or humble themselves, and then be forgiven by those they have harmed. I am trying to accept that violence is not a solution when in conflict."
"You are Tytalus. Although I did not deuce this, rather Gregorius mentioned you were present and revealed your lineage. You are more pleasant than other Tytali I have met."
Patrick snorts contemptuously. "Oh, aye, the honorable House Guernicus, with no passion but the law, or so they say. Let them judge us? Nay, leave judgement for God Almighty, just as these politicians do. They care not one whit for right or wrong, godly or not. Their only concern is stability, from their incomprehensible scrying laws to the rights they strip of our mundane friends and family. What sort of judgement do you expect from a House who calls a man's wife less than his pet?
"Nay, 'tis my own House I speak of. They're quick to join a cause, and leave merit to those who founded it, as all godly men should. You'll not see a Criamon or Verditus willing to lend aid only because aid is needed."
"Violence is never a solution, it is merely the continuation of the conflict in a different venue. So says Churchmont, and I declare wisdom there to be had."
Fray's hand moves to sub-consciously touch his burned forearm, "Regardless of the divine, our laws provide House Guernicus for our the laws, theirs is the role to play. If I had taken matters to my own hands I would be damned by both. That is part of my dilemma; my trust in our own laws is lacking and God's seem altogether too abstract. Perhaps had I your fire for action I'd already be avenged, and damned. I know that my wife would not wish that, as she was the voice of caution in other matters as well."
"I'm here because I hope you are right in that, but I have not resolved finally if I will return. Distance was the only barrier that I could establish quickly."
OOC: Could not parse underlined section. Please rephrase?
Patrick pauses, surprised by Fray's admission about the loss of his wife. He'd sensed something familiar about the labrat, some strange form of kinship, but he had hardly suspected what. In a low, quiet voice, he murmurs, "Nay, for if you'd had my zeal then your enemies would have attacked in stealth, and long you might've searched and still without a clue where to stick vengeance's blade."
He broods in silence for some time after this, and presently they can see the northeastern corner of the plateau -- despite meeting south-east of here. Patrick seems to have a preference for returning via this path.
"Barrows," is all he has to say about the oddly regular hills surrounding the north/northeast edge of the plateau.
Arriving at the plateau, Patrick wends his way over to the small, nascent farmstead that's become the northeast corner. As he begins to inspect the small horde of chickens, Fray notices a small sanctum marker carved into one of the wooden fence posts.
text was: "Regardless of the divine, our laws provide House Guernicus for our the laws, theirs is the role to play."
Clearer phrasing is: "Regardless of the divine, our laws empowered House Guernicus to administer Hermetic law, theirs is the role to play."
Fray keeps his eyes forward, chin taut, and visibly breathes as his emotion stirs and then slow fades as they both walk in the quiet for a time.
As Patrick walks forward, Fray indicates with a nod and gesture that he'll keep following, "your Sancta? Is it odd to have it away from the covenant proper?"
'