Quinton: The Arrival of Simone

Quinton woke with a start, sitting up in bed as he caught his breath. His awakening had disturbed Imna, his wife as she rolled over to look at him. “Trouble sleeping again? Same nightmare about the lava?” She asked, putting a hand on his back. “I had a dream… of a young woman with curly hair.” Quinton shook his head, his confusion in waking up allowing him to easily make the misstep. “Oh, dreaming of another woman are you?” Imna smirked, and slapped him on the back as she rolled over again. “No, not like that.” Quinton grunted. “I don’t know why I can’t sleep as well anymore…”
 
“Well, with all the help we have now you’re not wearing yourself out chasing the children all day. I’m sure that’s all there is to it. Just go back to sleep, you’ll get used to it soon. Goodnight, dear.” Imna rolled over unperturbed and was soon fast asleep. Quinton laid back down, but sleep did not come easily. He thought about his dream, in which he had seen a couatl become the curly haired woman. He had seen sigils, a name in Celestial: Simone. The vision had been recurring ever since the encounter with the red dragon, as if the baptism in lava had awoken something within him.
 
Early the next morning Quinton gave up on his sleep, and made his way to the chapel for morning prayers. He gave his greetings to the Michelle Nearwood as she tended the fountain, ensuring the water was blessed and clear, and soon took a familiar position before the altar to Ilmater. He read the familiar passages, and spoke the litanies, affirming his beliefs and settling into a familiar rhythm.
 
“Ye don’t ask for much d’ye. In fact ye don’ even talk to Him.” A gruff dwarven accent growled from behind Quinton. There stood a 4’9”, 152 lb dwarf in vestments of Ilmater. Quinton looked the dwarf over with a placid face, barely registering the insult. “Ah, a traveling brother. You are welcome to our Home. Have you come seeking service?” Quinton stood and gave a neat bow to the dwarf. “No brother me, Father. Father Wallace Carmichael, and if I was seeking communion I’d do it meself.” The dwarf squinted at Quinton, judging him top to bottom. “Of course, faith is a private matter. Our Home welcomes those of the faith, and those in need. If you are not here seeking services, perhaps a place to rest would do?” Quinton swept his hand upwards towards the guest lodging areas.
 
“Well at least the hospitality part was right. It’s a sad sight to see the rest of the rumors weren’t. Aye, I’ll take ye up on that. It has been too long since I’ve spent time among the brothers and sisters.” The dwarf turned heel as if to leave the room. “I beg your pardon? Rumors surrounding our home?” Quinton looked at the dwarf with some concern now, considering the dangers that were seeking some of Hyssop Home’s tenants. “Aye, I heard tell there was a man like you here, heard he were something to see. Heard he looks a rather lot like you, and I came t’see but just found a priest reading from the book and saying the litanies like it weren’t no different than a song.” The dwarf grumbled along as he passed through the aisle.
 
Quinton regarded the dwarf for a moment, considering his words carefully. “Our faith is different to us all. I offer my service and speak his words.” Quinton smiled peaceably at the dwarf, hoping to diffuse the situation. “Aye laddy, you speak his words but when is the last time you spoke with Him? Ye got him set up on an altar with yourself bending knee, ‘offerin’ service’ PFAH! I bet yer one of them penance lovers too, aren’t ya now?” The dwarf turned back, a contrary twinkle in his eye as he watched Quinton.
 
“Father Carmichael,” Quinton began sternly. “I know not what you have heard on the road, and what disappointment you carry. I forgive your words, and hope that a soft bed shall soothe whatever soreness of body and mind the road has wrought on you. Michelle, could you show Father Carmichael to a room?” Quinton stopped following the dwarf, hoping to find him better company at a future date and watched as the young wide-eyed acolyte Michelle lead Wallace from the room.
 
Quinton breathed from his nose, his face once again returning to a placid state as he turned back towards the altar, once again kneeling in prayer. The dwarf’s words however rang in his ears; it was true after all. Quinton did not address his prayers to Ilmater. Long ago in Berdusk when he abandoned his mission and left the treatment of the plague to the brothers and sisters of his order to take in the orphaned children of the tragedy he had left the church proper and given up on being a cleric. At that time he had stopped praying for Ilmater’s favor, never again asking for divine intervention. But his faith had never wavered, and his studies had never stopped. The magic had come to him with practice, but his connection with Ilmater was very different.
 
Quinton found the familiar position uncomfortable for once, and did something he had not done in decades. He looked up at the altar as he prayed. The words came haltingly and felt unnatural to him, very different than his normal rote prayers. He struggled to find a place to start, and though he reached out tentatively he was almost relieved when no answer was immediately forthcoming. Quinton was thankful that the chapel was empty this early in the morning and that his strange prayers had gone unheard by others. Quinton stood and prepared to launch himself into the routine of his day. The vision of his dreams and the words of the dwarf haunted him, however.
 
That evening Quinton considered the name he had seen, Simone. A name held great power. Quinton gathered his strength and made his way out of Lerwick, to a place safe enough to complete the ritual. He constructs a inverted magic circle of stones, and after infusing it with power calls forth the Celestial name, Simone. Opalescent motes of light begin to congeal, each one the scale of a Couatl as it materializes before Quinton. “Ahh, you have called for me at last. I have reached for your dreams for some time. I am Simone, you are Quinton.” The couatl’s telepathic voice sounded matter of factly in Quinton’s head.
 
“Why have you appeared in my dreams?” Quinton regarded the couatl with deep respect, but some suspicion. “We serve a common god and a common purpose. I am His messenger.” The couatl floated within the column of the magic circle, regarding Quinton. Quinton took a few moments to respond, considering the words for deceit. “Very well, I accept his judgment. It has been long coming.” Quinton turned his palms upward and released the magic circle. Simone laughed in his mind. “A learned man, a faithful man, but a stubborn one. Ilmater is many things; his portfolio includes forgiveness. Whatever trespass you believe you have made was long forgiven in His eyes, it is only for you to give yourself the strength to forgive yourself.”
 
Simone drifted to the ground, and as she did she took the form of a graceful and lithe sun elf standing 5'8" and 137 lbs. Her warm deeply sun-kissed skin highlights a toned body under loose white robes embroidered in red cord. “llmater called upon you once before, and you believed you had failed him. Regardless you have served, never seeking guidance nor communion. Ilmater calls on you once again. He sends His messengers to be your guides, and to join your strength with. Will you speak with him once more?”
 
Quinton considered the words carefully, and simply nodded, his mouth going dry. “Forgive yourself, as He forgives. Join your strength with His, as He joins His strength with you.” Quinton stood, and for the first time in over two decades he spoke from the heart to his god…
 
Quinton returned to Hyssop Home that night, introducing Simone to Hyssop Home and having her set up with a room and a place among the people. He lead the night services with a renewed zeal, channeling Ilmater’s words and meaning with his words, no longer simply reading from the service books. It was uncharacteristically passionate for the man, and his words carried unusual strength, filling those around him with determination and a sense of connection via the threads of life which bind us all.
 
After the service Quinton found the dwarf among those in the pews. “Aye, well maybe ‘twere something to the rumors after all then. I may have to stay here a while after all.” The dwarf seemed pleased, far less confrontational than in the morning. “Those of the faith are always welcome in Hyssop Home, good father. Please, stay as long as you like.” Quinton gave another small bow, and moved on down the pews.
 
“What rumors were you talking about, Father Carmichael?” A white haired dwarf sitting beside him on the pew, Brother Bergram Flint rubbed his beard and adjusted his spectacles. “Aye, they said there were a saint here…” Father Carmichael’s eyes watched Quinton as he slowly filtered out of the chapel with the congregation.
 
Quinton levels up to 18, taking his 18th level in Theurgist Wizard of the Life Domain. His reconnection with Ilmater has begun him on the Saint’s Path, as the healing divinity of Ilmater radiates from his words and touch. Quinton has gained the Spell Mastery feature, mastering Healing Word and Lesser Restoration. Individuals have begun to travel to Hyssop Home on hearing rumors of a man who can heal the injured with his words, and who can cure the blind and ill with but a touch. Quinton learns the spells Commune, as he once again becomes capable of communing with Ilmater, and Holy Aura. He becomes capable of unleashing his Channel Divinity a third time between rests, empowering his magic or washing over his allies with the energy of salvation.
 
Quinton has contracted with a Couatl which has taken the form of a sun-elf monastic named Simone. Simone is a couatl which has taken on the form of a sun elf martial arts adept. A celestial in service of Ilmater, Simone has begun to live among those of the prime material plane seeking to bring the lessons of Ilmater to others.
 
Simone is a practitioner of the Broken Fist Style of martial arts. The style is founded in the healing arts and is based on the principles of pressure points, acupuncture and therapeutic rehabilitation. Followers of the Broken Fist Style believe that if you must harm a foe you should experience the force that you deliver them, as such Simone fights bare-handed. Her hands and arms are covered in scars which have been tattooed over, as each wound serves as a reminder of the cost of harming others.
 
Simone came to Hyssop Home after connecting with Quinton in his dreams. She resonated strongly with the message and symbol of the hyssop: Sacrifice, Cleanliness, Healing.
 
Simone chose to form a contract with Quinton Arnjaunor, at Ilmater's behest, seeing him as a master under which she could expand her healing skills and spiritual depth. She swore to serve as his guardian and protector after witnessing his selflessness and willing to suffer for others. Simone seeks to match his sacrifice.