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Having some personal issue. If I am due for something, know I do not wish to ghost. My sincere apology nevertheless

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Acolyte Cantor Amentha

Location: A7 -> A8

“I would not, Cantor of the Ordo Benevolence.”

He nodded, before asking these questions: "Are you an adventurer? If so, we are willing to trade some coin for some info. Secondly," And he took a step closer [color]"you realized me?"[/color] Like clockwork, that ping happened once again, stronger than all of its previous iterations. He also picked up a peculiar smell from the Ichor Blessed before him. A smell of ashe and smoke. Very strong too, one might add.

Sister Laina pulled up on him, she didn't speak for now. The two members of Ordo Benevolence look curious for the adventure group to respond.

Acolyte Cantor Amentha

Location: A7 - Ordo Benevolence -> Other sections of Adventuring Circle

Interaction: @Thayr

"A quaint place for such a bustling city," Cantor comments as Laina introduces him to the history of the surrounding area. Some buildings are vacant, while others are in the process of renovation. They slowly made their way to the grand wall surrounding the supposedly "opening" of the Abyss. From there, they will travel along the wall's perimeter to reach other sections of the Oratorio. The cobbled road was not crowded, but people did seem to give way for a member of the Ordo. More out of respect than actual authorities the acolytes possess. Although some do furrow their brow when they see Cantor's acolyte robe. Anyhow, the pair trailed along the wall. Sister Laina mainly does the speaking, and Cantor does the listening. But every so often, he would point at a building and ask for its purpose. Some are just abandoned. Others are warehouses and taverns. Even one supposedly to be a blacksmithing of sorts. He wondered how the city would look like from above. But alas, they continued their travel.

And then, his ichor tugged at him. Like a soft ping that went off in his head, it was sudden and left as quickly as it came.

He locked eyes with another trio of travelers on the road. Their leader seemed to be a man with cold features. They all carried duffle bags and rucksacks filled to the brim. Adventurers, perhaps? To reassure himself of the pinged sensation, Cantor approached the traveling trio and introduced himself.

"Good day to you. I am Acolyte Cantor of Ordo Benevolence. Would you mind if I ask you some questions?" He extends his hand to their leader.

Acolyte Cantor Amentha

Location: A7 - Ordo Benevolence

It was a good night sleep for Cantor. No dreams. An overall pleasant sleep in an unfamiliar environment. Perhaps that is why he was the latter of the two. He exchanges a few pleasant lines with his roommate, an older face of the Ordo. 3 years older than him. Brother Othello. He has a lovely beard and a kind complexion. But a man with few words. The morning was to be taken care of in the mesh hall, where members shared communal meals together. Today, they have beet soup. Not all partake in the morning meal, though, as some followed a different scripture, which required a different time for breakfast. Or they might not have a morning meal altogether. This would then be followed by a small prayer where various acolyte gathers around and pray.

All of this was finished before 8.

Cantor now waits at his table, waiting for Sister Laina to grab him as instructed. Around him, others start to perform their daily routine. Most do embalming with various substances. However, some particularly well-gifted use magic of some sort to mask the damage done to their bodies. They were not as skilled as he imagined a mage to be. But then he remembered that Ordo Benevolence is a church that is being robbed by the landlord. Which is precisely the reason why he wants to do some exploration. The plan is to travel around the Adventuring Circle to take note of the prices of equipment and, more importantly, how to make money fast.

He asked his Head Priest to be here. It would be a shame if his on-paper "sole reason" being here got burned down because of overdue rent.

Acolyte Cantor Amentha

Location: A7 - Ordo Benevolence

The rest of the night went without any hiccups. The afternoon supper was beet soup and a dash of meat for flavoring, followed by the nightly prayers performed by each member. Cantor was also welcomed to his room. It was a small room on the third floor of the building with two bunk beds, two tables, and four shelves. The smell of paper and lamp oils hung in the air. But still, it was enough for Cantor. To his knowledge, the nuns stayed in another section of the building.

Unpacking most of his stuff, Cantor remembered his conversation with Sister Laina. Knife huh? Cantor thinks before digging out his scalpel. Roughly 15 centimeters in length and no heavier than 50 grams, these are his most valuable possessions. He balanced it on his finger, feeling its center of gravity before rushing forward and repeatedly stabbing the nonexistent combatant in the abdomen three times before dashing backward. The cluttering of the room meant he could only move forward or backward, and the same applied to his foes. Based on his anatomy experience, he first got into the small intestine, then two more stabs at the stomach.

The result was unsatisfactory. He imagined the small giant he helped kill. Atop a barren hill, It stood above them despite being poisoned. Its strength must have never disappointed it. The brother band would have let it live had it not constantly terrorize the villagers and their livestock. The howling wind is produced from a simple act of swinging a tree. The men's orders mixed with the roar of a wild humanoid. To truly harm it, Cantor was forced to cut open its hide with the axe and sever the muscle connection from the bone. It took multiple swings for the giant to kneel and multiple more for its neck to release its hold from the skull.

Even for humans, the knife is not cut out. A padded leather shirt can significantly damper the penetration of the knife. And if he is against someone good, they would know this and club him in the head. So one hit kill... but doing that would require better footings or surprise them. He was only mediocre with an axe and shield, so switching would mean he must relearn how to use a different weapon and its nuance.

He decided not to consider who would teach him or where he could find someone willing to teach him. He hoped he could relieve the Ordo of its financial difficulties, even just by a little bit. But then again, the Ordo have stayed here before he came. It would probably still be here after he left.

Instead, he looks forward to tomorrow's city stroll. He still remembers how his ichor yearned to get here. It is, after all, only a day since.

Acolyte Cantor Amentha

Location: A7 - Ordo Benevolence

"My biggest martial achievement was to lay down a small giant." He chuckled. A small caveat is the feat was performed with gears. He needs his chainmail, a shield, 2 pikes, 5 caltrops, an axe, and 2 poisoned pigs as bait. This did not include the other gear his ten battle brothers were wearing. The total price was nothing less than 500 gold. Of course, the monastery provided for them when he was one of the battle brothers and even then they still came out with two suffered medium injuries. All of them sustained some minor bruising.

None of the gears are with him now, save for his embalming gears and herbs. This includes 5 knives, a handpump, scissors and clamps, a saw, embalming fluids, and restoration gears. He doesn't even have light armor for crying out loud. But still, if what she said is true, perhaps there is gold to make. His lack of weapons posed a challenge, however. He could use his knives, but one wrong flick and the blade is sure to bend or lose its edge. Perhaps fists...? Brawl is a study and being unharmed in a brawl is a feat...

Perplexed by the enigma of war and violence, Acolyte Cantor decided to study the woman as she is studying him now. His right hand somewhat covered his mouth, the index finger tapped with the random rhythm his subconscious orchestrated. Despite being smaller in size, the humanoid figure carried a certain gives of dexterity and nimbleness. Her chest rises and falls with the sturdiness of a farmer sowing seeds. This, of course, brought Cantor's attention to her black robe and brown leather apron. He could not discern which ordo she came from, or what mission this Sister followed.

"So we are in a dead cycle." Cantor said while continuing to familiarize himself with Sister Laina's features. "None of us here excel at fighting while the landlord continued to charge rent..." He paused, taking in the pupil's color and the frowned eyebrows of his observer. "It would have been different had we been like vultures or hyenas, predators that preyed on the weak and ..." How dare they, have they forgotten the words of God and his message? How dare they, with foul tongues and dirty fingers, defilling our cleanliness? And how could they, from the bottom of their heart, choose to turn a blind eye and snuff out the compassion of a man who devote everything to His Mission?

Taken aback by his poisonous words and degrading thoughts, Cantor apologized to his Sister."Forgive me, Sister Laina. Forgive me for my rage and degrading thoughts."

"Still, I am not a person who idled in the face of destruction. Would you care to join me for an early morning stroll? I would like to get the lay of the land as well as the difficulties from the First Floor."

Acolyte Cantor Amentha

Location: A7 - Ordo Benevolence

"Yes, Sister Laina." He responds. "I might not be the most vicious with the blade like my Brothers, but I did receive some training around axe and shield. Enough to earn coin for my monastery."This is a fact with an asterisk behind it. The monastery's combat training for Cantor focuses on teamwork, squad formation, tandem footwork, and raising a shield. He was trained to block arrows for his brother, to raise his shield in tandem with his brother, and to lunge an axe at an opening his brothers had made.

This was good enough for the Head Priest. After all, Cantor is an embalmer. One of the few good at the job. As such, Cantor did not see much action compared to his other more combat-oriented brothers. The furthest Cantor ever traveled as a mercenary was during a 2-week caravan escort. It was 4 towns away. The most noticeable thing on the road was the merchant's diarrhea and eventual succumb to fever. It was a sunny day.

Cantor knew the difference in his combat capabilities when compared to those with more experience. However, what he did not anticipate was how much his dependency on teamwork and cooperation from others hinders him. Without them, Cantor was just a guy who knew how to raise a shield and swing an axe. A mediocre one at that.

"Do you have any suggestion for my motion earlier? You seem to be the most accepting of my idea." He motions her to a nearby empty table, away from other Acolytes at work.

Acolyte Cantor Amentha

Location: A7 - Ordo Benevolence

It saddened Cantor that such disrespect was displayed so brazenly. In the place of worship, even. Still, he was not insulting God and his Glory, just insulting them, His servants. As such, Cantor kept his silence during the exchange, keeping a straight face as best as possible while the affront continued its assault on the poor Father. For other Acolytes, they seem to be in quite a rage. Others, resignation and defeat. He noticed one peculiar the Acolyte before looking at the Head Priest of Ordo Benevolence, whose aging seemed to increase after the conversation.

"Father, do we not have any other ways for financial gains? Outside of donations and service fees?" He paused, questioning where his boundary starts and ends as an acolyte. At the Monastery, his only concern was his daily chants and duties as an embalmer. When his Father told him to rest, he rested. When his Father told him to work, he worked. Sure, he was somewhat rebellious back then like partly dressed when doing the farmwork. But even then, he was still in line for an Acolyte. However, he understands his Head Priest, his adopted Father. This Father? The only interaction he has is the current one. Still, he deemed that his concern was coming from the worriedness of a student about their teacher's hardship. Something well within the boundary of an Acolyte.

"In our Monastery, we also offered the service of a sellsword to maintain our daily practices and rituals. Do we not have any warriors affiliated with us?" He continued, scanning the faces of others in the building, their anger palpable through their actions. "Perhaps we can create a band of warriors for our own, or try to let others work with us in exchange for free service?"

Nevertheless, works wait for no one. After receiving the answer, Cantor bowed his head in respect to Father Nathaniel before going back to his station. He worked till all his assigned cadavers were finished, their ceremonies conducted before cleaning his hands. It seems he got some time before the nightly supper and afternoon prayers. As such, he took it upon himself to resupply others with what they needed, whether it was more embalming liquid, clean tools, or just a simple exchange of nods to let others know of his existence. Still, he went to the worried Acolyte he noticed earlier. Or perhaps rage? Frustration? The way her fists clenched and brows furrowed as Nathaniel insulted their service. It must have disturbed her enough for her tools to remain unclean after work.

"Good evening Sister, I am Cantor Amentha. An acolyte." He introduced himself before motioning to the tools on the table. "Mind if I help you?"

Acolyte Cantor Amentha

Location: A7 - Ordo Benevolence

Acolyte Cantor Amentha arrived at Ordo Benevolence early in the morning, bypassing the huddled mass and the pearly gates of the riches as he inched closer to the center of the gilded city, its gaping hole. The spark pulled grew stronger until suddenly reaching a grinding halt as he put his sack and gear down.

No flower nor incense oil wafted in the air. No early morning hymn thanking a new dawn, but the grievances of a market. The haggling for prices of material and ceremonies, the screaming pain, priests and healing mages running back and forth like bussers of some dining place.

An acolyte pulled him to his stall,
"You're the new one, right? Acolyte Cantor?" He asked. Cantor nodded. Words barely escaped his mouth as the acolyte practically pushed him to his table. "We got two teams of 6 that just got wiped, think you can handle one of them?"

"Sure..." A soft pat on his back, and he was alone with his table. The first one wasn't too bad of a cause of death. Must have lost too much blood. A quick inspection reveals something completely penetrated his abdomen, resulting in a dizzying death. Resolution? Stitch the abdomen then pass the fluid. The second one was a tad worse, half his face was already missing, perhaps from wild animals scavaging? Nevertheless, his nose was missing, and half of his left face was in a state of half-chewing. For this, the solution would probably be using clay to recreate the owner's nose while removing the owner's skin from the calf and reapplying on his face. Then the third ...

Death can indeed be a monotonous work. Men were not built to be emotionally stable with their kind dying on this level of scale. In the mortuary stall, there is no sound but the sound of a saw chewing through the bloated corpse. The sound of meat falls onto the bin as they remove an already rotten piece of flesh. The sound of water splashing on the cadavers. Then the dressing into the white shroud. The acolytes did with the silence of a factory and the product of death.

But still, to say this is a butcher shop would be a lie. For even in an area that is filled with death and suffering of all kinds, holiness still reigns supreme in this sacred place. Cantor said the praying words from the Rites of Death and Forgiveness, the rite he is most familiar with from his Monastery while at the next table, the half-elf read Masses for the Dead for her patient. There are about 13 acolytes in this place, Cantor wondered if they truly said 13 different versions of prayers for the dead. Through our prayer, God, your children will never die.

Had it not because of someone calling him out, Cantor would probably worked until he finished. But his work on the 4th person was cut short by Jamieson, a debt collector Cantor presumed. With a slight nod of acknowledgment, Cantor covers the person with a white shroud before leaving to find the Head Priest. That reminds him. He should have advised Jamieson to find a seat as Cantor was not introduced to the Ordo. Still, after some time, the acolyte was able to locate the Head Priest's room and give a few knocks on the flimsy wooden door. The frame tilted with each of his knocks.

"Father, a guest has come and requested to see you. Say he is here to collect."

@ERodeAll changes made as requested. But yeah, I think I'm fine with the "make up", seem like everyone else 0th level is also very mundane so I keep with the theme.
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