The gatekeeper comes back, being dragged slightly by Regenlief. She is backed by a large number of guards. "By order of the Prince, this place is to be searched for the fugitives from Royal Justice. Lord Ossian, your cousin would like you to arrange for complete cooperation by the Abbot and his personnel."
Ossian nods and looks at the guards. "For the moment, let's gather all the monks in here. They are not to talk to each other. Search the building toroughly. We look for correspondence, strange items and... tunnels."
He turns to the Abbot. "You heard what we are looking for. You can cooperate by showing me."
"Do as they say, Brothers," the Abbot says. "We are cooperating with the authorities, as our Royal Charter requires."
The Abbot also turns to face Ossian. "I do not know where they were, but I can show you where guests should have been quartered."
"That would be good. Also, do you have any of the Holy Icons here? I would like to have a look at them." Ossian says. "Good that you choose to cooperate. Hiding things, even things your order would consider secret, would not be beneficial. "
Regenlief is still at the door. "My Lord, the guards can certainly handle the routine search, if you wish to have the Abbot help us. Shall I accompany you?"
It's hard to tell if she wants that or if she's playing for the various audiences. She's doing a good job of it, but it's clearly for at least in part to shore up Ossian's authority.
Ossian frowns "Yes. You have certain experience that could be valuable."
Before leaving with the abbot, Ossian makes certain thst the guards know what to do.
The guards know to turn the place over in the way that guards do, searching for fugitives. They are unlikely to be overly gentle, but they will be through. Does Ossian give them special instructions?
The abbot listens carefully to whatever he does tell the guard, and asks Ossian to follow him.
Ossian tells the guards to round up everyone in the monastery and gather them in the hall. No talking is allowed among the monks. The guards are also told to search for hidden doors, locked rooms etc. Any strange machinery is to be reported immedeately to Ossian. Also strange playing card art. Ossian asks the abott to provide keys to every lock he doesn't want broken.
"We seldom lock doors, your highness. We strive for openness in all things." He turns towards a rail-thin monk of indeterminate age. "Brother Clavicle, please open any door the guard asks." That monk nods.
He then turns back to Ossian and Regenlief. "This way." He walks carefully and it seems like he's in a bit of pain, but he's moving. "The guest quarters are in the west extension." He hobbles onwards, leading through several doors to an attached side-building. The rooms are mostly empty, neat, and spartan. "This is where we'd put up brothers who arrived in need of rest. I do not think we had other guests at the time of your arrival."
Ossian follows but is alert to the surroundings and for any sign of treachery. He does not need to tell his mother to do the same... Are there any signs of recent use? Ossian specifically looks for doors or trap doors leading down.
The room looks like it was occupied, and probably recently. The linens on the bed are fresh, but there is water in the basin and the towels look as if they were used. There's a single floor above the ground floor, and it looks as there are stairs down to a basement level as well.
"What's above us?," asks Regenleif, looking out a window.
The abbot "Additional quarters, mostly used for storage, your highness. We don't get many guests."
Regenlief anticipated that reply. "And below?"
"Cellars. Dry goods in long term storage. We have been here many years, and while our purpose changes slowly, our facilities are made to take on any role we need. Is there anything else I can show you? I assume your guards will search the rooms."
Ossian looks around, lifts the towels etc, in case the guest forgot anything. "I'd like to take a look at those cellars."
The abbot looks annoyed but says "Of course, my Lord. Please, follow me."
The cellars are low, poorly lit, and crammed with furniture equally utilitarian to the items above, but in worse shape. Regenlief has to duck to avoid hitting her head.
They are surprisingly extensive for a Parisian building, but don't seem out of place compared to the other Klybesian monasteries Ossian has been to. It's wetter than anyplace used for storage should be, and it smells of decay.
There are obvious footprints in the dust going into the darkness. It’s not hard to see where they went, but it will be if they go much further into the darkness.
The abbot still looks annoyed. "I'm not sure why anyone would've come down here, but we definitely need to start assigning the novices to sweep up."
The trail leads to a modern steel fire door of a type that doesn't fit in well in a centuries-old rural abbey. Before Ossian asks, the abbot says "The keeper of the keys was left to assist the garde, so I don't have a key to that door with me. Shall we send for one?"
"Quickly." Jerod says flatly, having heard the last comments as he entered, Cordelia at his side. He nods to Ossian as he arrives, the barest negative head shake to tell him that Cordelia and he were not lucky in their endeavours.
He examines the door carefully, tracing the edge of the door and how it fits into the wall though he is careful not to touch it, looking for how it is framed in, how secure the overall structure is compared to the wall. "Someone was not subtle about putting this here." he muses. "This would instantly garner attention, and questions."
"It's watertight, My Lord. Brought here from our parent chapter."
He looks at the abbot, then back at the door. Jerod knows this close to Paris his ability to summon Pattern will be non-existent. Instead he reaches out to feel for possible Shadow variances, subtle shifts that would indicate the presence of a path or leading to a path. He does not believe such could exist, or be created, though he considers the possibility of a fracture perhaps, something less conventional than a path.
Jerod doesn't find a shadow path or anything as exciting as a fracture, but he's quite sure that the pattern is the weakest in exactly the direction the door opens.
As soon as the key is sent for Ossian turns to the abbot "You obviously knew about this door. What is it for?" Ossian sounds angry.
The abbot recoils from Ossian's fury. He stammers a reply. "I, I, I do not understand, your Grace. It is a door, it isn't for anything. It opens to a pump room for keeping the river out of our basement. There's no way out of there."
Jerod's tracing of the door frame pauses for a moment as he concentrates, his raised hand paused over a point on the door. "Then there's nothing to worry about." he says idly, even as his expression seems distant. "Get the key, now."
"I think you might have been deceived by your own order, dear Abbot."
The abbot looks stunned, as if he'd never considered the possibility. He leaves to fetch the key.
Ossian examines the door. Between him and Jerod, do they really need the key?
The two of you could easily remove the door. It's possible that Regenlief and Cordelia could open the door. It's fireproof, not Amberite-proof.
"Pattern is weakest exactly in that direction." Jerod says to Ossian, motioning to the door once the abbot has left. "Could just be a coincidence, but you know what I think about those. If they wanted it sealed up against water, there's lots of technology suitable to Paris that could be used. This makes me think something else, especially since he said they imported it.
"I'm very curious as to what is beyond this door."
Ossian nods. "Indeed. I have a few educated guesses, though." Then he adds "We don't have to wait for the key, of course. "
"No, we don't." Jerod says. "But I'm cautious in this respect. This door stands out like a sore thumb...so the monks would have known we'd investigate and want to know what's on the other side. A protesting abbot would be irrelevant to us.
"A key means a lock...and locks are used to protect things. And the monks know a simple lock won't stop one of us. So if there is something to guard, they'll want to protect it with more than just a simple barrier."
He looks at Ossian. "And while sorcery won't work here, conventional traps will. And Paris' technology definitely allows for some nastiness on that side."
Cordelia looks disappointed. "So, we're not going to rip the door from its hinges like the head of a recalcitrant abbot from his shoulders?"
Regenlief looks up at the prospect of violence. Jerod pauses for a moment to look at Cordelia and then laughs for a moment. Ossian has heard him laugh before, but rarely like this, free of restraint.
"No." he says, still chuckling. "While the prospect of violence can be rather appealing...and it appears this group is much more disposed to it than I had previously thought...in this case we will be patient."
Jerod looks over at Ossian, his amused expression clearly one Ossian can read...that Jerod is now the voice of reason and patience. No one is more surprised than Jerod apparently.
"We will have the abbot do the honors of opening the door, just in case. If I were an untrusting individual..." and he smiles slightly, "...I would put a trap in the door to allow someone to open it a certain way safely, but another way to harm those who were not meant to do so, as well as to cause damage to whatever is on the other side that one would want to protect.
"Now, should the good abbot behave in a manner detrimental to his own health, then you shall permission to dismember him." he says to her, raising his hand, his index finger outstretched for emphasis. "But not before."
Ossian grins. "At least we let him open the door. When it is open, be prepared for everything."
The abbot returns, with a key. "My Lords, I have it here and the door can be opened."
He tries to give the key to Ossian, but eventually will open the door. Nothing he does seems to indicate any special precaution or attempt to avoid a trap or deactivate a mechanism. He opens the door.
Beyond it, in the dim lighting, there is pumping machinery of various technical levels. The one that’s seemingly keeping the river dry is powered by some sort of mechanical coupling going upwards. It reminds Jerod and Ossian of a windmill, but not as large.
There are footprints in the dust. Where the dust turns to mud, there are footprints in the mud. They go to the back, where there is a locker or wardrobe made of metal.
Cordelia asks the abbot about it. He doesn’t know, and assumes it’s got spare parts for the pump.
She looks at Jerod and Ossian, to see how they want to proceed.
Jerod looks at Ossian and Cordelia, motioning that he'll be moving forward and to watch his flanks. Regenlief he leaves to cover the rear and keep an eye on the abbot.
When he enters the room he is careful when he looks around, specifically checking for the tracks. Since there are footprints in the dust, which then turn to mud, he is mindful to look for return tracks, checking outside the room's door to see if any mud or dust was tracked outward...he is figuring there isn't any but he checks just to be sure.
There are no tracks back.
He will also check to see if there is any kind of torch or lantern in the room. Given the dim lighting, it would not be out of place for one to be there. If there is not, he motions for a guard to obtain a lantern from above quickly, though he will not wait for the return of the guard to proceed.
There is a candle, and a lantern can also be sent for.
Once he has cleared the initial area for possible safety issues, and he knows whether there are outward bound tracks, or only a single set that approach the metal cabinet, he motions for Ossian. Jerod is curious about the machinery as well but is confident Ossian will spot anything that might be out of place in that respect.
At the metal cabinet, Jerod will check its positioning, plus whether tracks proceed further, or stop at the cabinet. He will note whether it is against a wall or not, anything odd in relation to the room, sounds or vibrations. Plus he checks to see whether the alignment of the cabinet fits with the direction of his Pattern review that he just performed and where it is weakest.
The wardrobe/cabinet is against the wall. It could be concealing a passage. The footprints end at the cabinet. There's mud on the lip of the cabinet.
Ossian examines the room. He is specifically looking for cables (like in data or power cables). Is there anything here that shouldn't work in Paris?
There aren't any electrical or data cables.
Are the pumps running?
They are. The water that seeps in is directed to a floor grate. It looks odd, like it's unclear why the water isn't just piped down the grate. It looks more like a pass-through or filter, but there's no obvious machine to attach to the pump.
He also looks for possible trap doors in the floor.
"We might not be deep enough. We should not forget the floor."
The grate the water flows into is wide enough for people to pass through, if you take out the hoses feeding water from the pumps.
After ensuring the candle is lit, and having sent for lanterns for more light, Jerod will examine the cabinet carefully, looking for locks or other restraining mechanisms, concealed clasps and latches that might disable something on the interior of the cabinet for example. If it is concealing a passageway, the only thing that would block or impede someone would be an explosive charge of some type which he doesn't considered very probable.
What he does do, while Ossian is doing his own checks is motion for Cordelia to come over. He takes out a dagger and slides it between the wall and the back of the cabinet to create an opening, a wedge, to which he will sniff, to see if there is a different scent of air should another passageway exist. He can also bring the candle closer, see if the flame may flicker due to changes in air flow.
"You sense anything from here?" he asks her, motioning to the back of the cabinet.
She shakes her head. "Not that I necessarily would. It looks to me like the cabinet is against the wall."
Once she has responded, unless her answer is something along the lines of "It smells deadly, etc", Jerod will move to open the cabinet, making sure Ossian is aware when he does this.
Ossian investigates the grate some more, lifting it if needed. Can he determine how much water is flowing through the hoses? Is there a ladder going down?
"They might even have two ways out of here" he says.
There are rungs going down, but the grate looks like it hasn't been moved in ages. There's plenty of mud and slime that look like they haven't been disturbed by lifting the grate. It absolutely could be a way out of here. But maybe not today's way out of here.
Jerod opens the cabinet carefully. It seems empty, but has a velvet curtain at the back.
Regenlief reaches in with her spear and pushes it to one side, stirring a burst of cold air and picture of a mountain valley in a winter scene. Along the slope, there are a number of small buildings, and Jerod can almost smell smoke from the hearths.
"Ossian." Jerod says. "You're going to definitely want to see this." and he carefully pulls aside the curtain without making contact with the trump.
Ossian peeks into the closet, then steps back, eyes wide. "The artwork in your closets is admirable." he says to the abbot.
He carefully examines the Trump. How large is it? What style is it painted in? Can he recognise who made it? Is it a sketch or a full Trump? Does he, or Regenlief recognise the landscape?
The trump painting looks to be two feet wide by five feet tall. It covers the entire back of the cabinet, and Ossian suspects the cabinet was built around the trump rather than painted into a wardrobe.
As for the artwork, it seems old fashioned to Ossian. It lacks the dynamic creative spark of genius that marks Brand or any of his students. He doesn't know for sure who made this. It reminds Ossian of some of the older trumps that were amongst Reid's belongings. If it was Reid, it was done thousands of years ago when he wasn't as good as he later became. But more likely it was a student of his.
"Opening the Trump should be reasonably safe" he muses. "Stepping through, not so much. If they are paranoid they have weapons aimed at this spot."
Ossian reaches out to touch the Trump. He wants to just look through it, not step through.
The large trump is cold to the touch and gives Ossian a feeling of winter as well. The air is dry and the there's blowing powdery snow and Ossian has to fight against the trump to keep it active and not pull him through. It's a struggle that he can win, but possibly not one he can win forever.
It reminds Ossian of Clervaux, except not ruined and much colder. The valley seems alpine, and the chimneys of the buildings are smoking.
Ossian resists the pull through. If possible he will try too look around 360 degrees to see that there are no obvious traps behind what would be his back if he stepped through. Does he see any people?
No, but there are places that could set a watch on this place easily. There are footprints in the snow.
To Jerod he says: "this looks a bit like someplace I and Marius went. Could be a really old place of theirs."
"For sure we'll want to check it out in the future." Jerod says. "We can remove the cabinet to a secure location in a dungeon cell, in case there's any way to activate it from the other side. Study it at leisure."
"We'll want to notify others of the possible breach. No idea how many others of these are secreted around in various kingdoms but they'd be worth having around."
The abbot steps closer. "I had no idea this was here! This is incredible.... I must show this to Brother Farwinds." Regenlief is right behind him.
"It does look like Clerveaux," she says.
"Rievaulx," corrects the Abbot, almost mechanically.
"Tell us what you know about Rievaulx." Jerod asks the abbot, moving in front of him when he speaks, and perhaps by accident blocking his view of Ossian while he continues whatever he might be looking to do. He does motion to Regenlief to maintain her distance to the abbot in case he decides to do something foolish, like leave to tell someone about something.
Before closing the contact Osdiqn examines two things:
1. Can he determine how time flows in Rievaulx compared to Paris?
2. Can he detrmine the age of the painting, by comparing what he sees when he
looks through and what is painted? (Like new buildings)
Not without going through. The trees are different enough that it's not recent, but that could be a decade or it could be a century.
[Also: How long would it take for someone of Ossian's skill to make a Trump this big, assuming ideal conditions? For someone less skilled?]
Under ideal conditions, this would take Ossian about a month. Less time if he was really familiar with the place. This could take a year or more for someone less skilled.
"And why would Brother Farwind want to know about this?"
The abbot turns to Ossian. "He studies art, including real paintings. He is our curator."
He turns back to Jerod. "It is the lost abbey from which our charter originally descends. We only have pictures of pictures of the place. But I recognize it. That is the grand lodge and the master's quarters. If that is a real painting, I would very much like to go there."
Jerod looks at Ossian in a side glance before returning to the abbot. "Real paintings? Would he know who created this if he saw it?"
"It is not made by the school I am most knowledgeable about." Ossian says, hoping that Jerod will catch what he means. "This is an older tradition."
Ossian frowns "Do you have more real paintings here?"
The abbot frowns. "None of this quality. We have a few, for emergencies, but we are something of a backwater. They are fragile, and as such we generally advise people to ride to where they are going, unless it cannot be reached from here at all."
Jerod nods at Ossian's comment, indicating once more that he is smarter than he looks. He turns back to appear to look at the cabinet, but making sure not to get in the way of Ossian's view of the abbot.
"We need to secure this Farwind." Jerod says quietly, adjusting his voice so only Ossian can hear. "Plus the extra paintings the abbot's talking about. One shots maybe but they may tell us stuff. And this thing." and he motions with his eyes to the cabinet. "Corwin and Random for sure need to know.
"It explains how they're able to get around without detection. I know a little about Trumps, but not the place kind. Are they two way, or just one way? If they're two way, we want it heavily secured so nothing comes through we don't know about."
"We need to see those paintings," Ossian says. "Even if they are lower quality."
Ossian turns to Jerod, lowers his voice and turns his head so that the abbot cannot read his lips
"I agree with what you said. Have never heard of a two way Trump, so don't worry too much about it. There is nothing tangible on the other side. I could of course let someone through from there, working from this side. But their access to Trumps is really bad news. What is your thoughts about the abbot? I think we can't let him run free."
"Agreed." Jerod says. "He could be as he appears, a pompous incompetent easily bypassed by others higher in the food chain. A figurehead who knows nothing of a group's true plans can be a useful defense against questioning minds. However, I'd like to be sure, and he may have information on the comings and goings of others. He needs to be a guest for awhile."
The Abbot looks around Jerod at the painting. He barely seems to notice that Jerod is there. He definitely doesn't notice the conversation going on, somewhat literally, over his head.
"Of course. Do you wish me to fetch Brother Farwind, or should we send one of your daughters?”
Regenlief, though she says nothing, is not amused by this error. Cordelia, though she says nothing, is.
Jerod looks at the abbot, his expression quite stoic at the moment. The moment does not last however when he glances at Regenlief, at which time his expression breaks with a snort and a laugh.
He looks at Ossian, not actually embarrassed but taking a breath to regain his composure. "Umm...yes, perhaps that would be a good idea." he says. "Lord Ossian, perhaps your....umm...daughter could acquire our wayard brother?"
It is easily clear to Ossian that Jerod is having far too much fun with this.
"Then we can see about collecting the rest of the items and getting them off to Paris."
Ossian grins, turning to his mother "You know, most people would take it as a compliment. We need to talk to this Farwind, will you get him here? Without too many bruises?"
Ossian gently closes the door to the cabinet.
Regenlief looks at the point of her spear, sloped over her shoulder. "Fine, no bruises." Hopefully he won't have any holy spear wounds, either.
Cordelia rolls her eyes. "Father Abbot," she says, "what did you mean when you mentioned 'Lost Rievaulx' earlier?"
The abbot smiles at her, paternalistically. "You have good ears, my child." Cordeilia's smile could cut ice, but the abbot does not realize the danger he's in.
Jerod looks at Cordelia, his gaze sufficiently pointed enough to remind her "no killing".
"We have a chain of authority and our abbey was once under the authority of the Bishop of Rievaulx. That abbey was lost to the order when it fell to iconoclasm and heresy. The brothers of our parent chapter in Valmagne defied the Bishop and were welcomed by the Bishop of Longleat, which was a sister abby to Rievaulx. After the Revolt of the Bishops was over, Rievaulx was no longer in communion or contact with her sponsoring chapter and her sponsorship of other chapters was revoked.
"It makes sense that there is a Holy Icon of it in the back of a wardrobe, since it was no longer part of our order."
Cordelia looks skeptical of that last part, especially in light of the missing criminals, but she doesn't say anything.
Or, Jerod thinks, this Lost Rievaulx would make a good place to hide for those wishing to be invisible and outside the normal religious control of the monks.
"What news or stories remain of Rievaulx?" Jerod asks. "And what was the nature of this revolt?"
"Rievaulx was the parent chapter of the order in this land, sponsoring and chartering us as we expanding into the land of the Franks. The order is ancient, and has had many names. Even Klybus, blessed progenitor, was a rebel of sorts. There are brothers who specialize in the history of the Order, but none in this chapter house.
"As houses were separated by vast distances, when we were separated from Rievaulx’s authority, it became a mere historical center for us. We knew of our charter, and we kept faith with it when they did not.
"All we have left are the history and paintings, none of which are holy icons, save this one."
"And who could have painted this marvellous painting?" Ossian adds.
The Abbot nods, as if that answered Ossian’s question. "They are ancient and powerful, and Brother Farwind can tell you what we know of who created these mighty works. The job of those honored with the conservatorship of these holy icons is to keep them in perfect repair, protected and restored if needed. They are too rare to be treated with anything but the utmost care by master conservators."
"Then we would certainly look forward to speaking to him." Jerod says.
If Regenlief has not already left to acquire Farwind, Jerod motions for her to depart and bring him back with all due haste.
"You mentioned a revolt? And that your brothers in Valmagne had defied the Bishop? I would inquire as to why, given that it appears to have been the cause of your isolation."
The abbot is personally an expert on theological history without actually being an expert on doctrine or theology. He will explain in great detail about the conflicts of the early church fathers, schisms, heresies, reconciliations, feuds and petty grudges across centuries. He has to explain several past conflicts to get to the Valmagne Defection. (It is like listening to a small-town postmaster explain the conflict between the Queen Consort and the Princess Royal...) It is perhaps entertaining, but not particularly enlightening.
While Jerod talks with the abbot Ossian investigates how to best move the large Trump somewhere else. Is it best to remove it from the cabinet, or should the whole thing be carried?
The cabinet looks like it might be disassembled. Ossian suspects the painting was added during a prior assembly. It could also be removed from its frame and rolled up, or even cut out.
Regenlief returns shortly with Brother Farwind. Farwind is not being dragged or prodded by Regenleif. He seems anxious to see the new painting. He moves straight in and stops at the wardrobe door.
Jerod keeps in the background so Ossian can deal with Farwind uninterrupted, keeping an eye on both the abbot and Farwind to see how they respond.
Ossian smiles. "Welcome, brother Farwind. You will want a look at this. " he winks. "Look only. No touching. It could be dangerous."
Ossian opens the wardrobe door again, but keeps his arm stretched out to block the brother from touching it. He lets Farwind look at the painting before asking him, "Who do you think could have painted this?"
Farwind makes appreciative comments about painting. "It’s a masterwork, isn't it? This was just locked in a closet here in this damp basement? For years, you say?" He sounds slightly dubious of that last point. "It's not that recent, you can see the details in the monastery. The swirls on the snow are reminiscent of the late Loire period of the Master's work. It was probably painted on site, and finished later. The brushwork suggests artificial brushes.
"There's only one painter in the order now, and it doesn't look like his work, but there were predecessors, especially in the early days. It's not from our inventory of known works."
The abbot speaks up, using his great knowledge of petty church squabbles. "The Loire period was before the schism that led to the Valmagne Defection."
Brother Farwind nods when he says that.
Cordelia looks up when she hears about the painter. She's not saying anything, but she's listening.
Ossian frowns "This Master. Does he or she have a name?"
"He has a nom de pinceau. See that A in the box on the rock at the bottom left? It stands for Able, which is either an understatement about his skill or an ancient allusion to a seafaring background. We don’t know for sure. Some people think it’s some other kind of cryptic hint, but the context has been lost to the years.
"The Master is described as a friend to the Order, without being of the Order."
The Abbot looks over. "Given how long the timeframe is that he was active, I have long suspected that 'Able' was a title, not a personal name."
Farwind does not seem inclined to argue.
Jerod notices as well and wanders over, letting the monks and Ossian speak.
"If there's a question to ask of them, do so." Jerod whispers for her ears. It is clear he'll be asking her interest later.
She whispers back to him, smiling. "My only question is 'should we take them with us when we go through?', but it's not for them...."
"The Valmagne Defection?" Jerod asks, curious but letting Ossian take the lead on the painter's identity while appearing more interested in the politics of the day.
The Abbot explains the Valmangne Defection in some detail. It is a related schism in the annals of church history. He doesn't know who the Valmangians were, but they were wrong.
Jerod is moderately amused to hear the story, though the name of the artist is of prime interest to him and he makes a personal note to follow up with the others everyone is brought up to speed, plus to hit up the elders to see if anyone might place this name to a wayward family member.
Ossian nods and closes the door. "Thank you, you have been helpful, Brother Farwind. I'd very much like to see your other pieces of real art." there is no hint in Ossians voice that the brother really has any choice in the matter.
"Of course," the monk replies. "We have them in our Conservatory. We really should move this work there as well. It's not as... wet. Shall I send for some Conservatory brothers to carry it?"
Brother Farwind escorts Ossian and his mother to a small outbuilding. It has wide, tall windows that are shaded or filled with a semi-opaque glass, and inside are a number of books and a smaller number of paintings.
"This is the Conservatory. Where we preserve and repair the holy pictures."
There are 3 brothers, all dressed like Farwind, moving through the place, going about their tasks. The do seem to be involved in restoration or maintenance work.
"Nice collection."
Farwind nods. He's in his element. "I'm honored to be the custodian of so many excellent works. I didn't expect that at this small monastic establishment."
Ossian takes the room in and makes some insightful remarks about the visible art pieces. "Pressing the pigment into the paint like that gives really deep color. How do you keep it clean? It tends to collect soot."
Farwind seems to have no secrets and is happy to discuss his methods.
"Dry brushing for normal cleaning and a trip to a place where magic can be used for more deep cleanings."
"Where are the Real paintings?"
"The small ones are bound in the books on the shelves, the larger works are in the vault, except when we are restoring them. Brother Ambergris has one on his table." He motions to the back of the room, where a bald monk is leaning over a canvas perhaps twice as wide and tall as a regular trump. He has a small putty knife and a magnifying glass in front of him, and he's tightly focused on the square inch he's working on.
Ossian moves closer to take a look at the picture. Whatdoes it show, and what style is it painted in?
It shows a gothic looking building on a cliffside that probably suffered from a meteor strike sometime after the painting was completed.
Stylistically, it seems to be a naturalistic painting and has few artistic flourishes. Ossian thinks it looks like a mish-mash of copied styles, in the way that student paintings often did. The student seems talented, but not highly skilled. It's probably here because it stopped working.
[Ossian]
"Don't worry. I am quite experienced with these kind of paintings."
Brother Farwind just nods. The room seems to exude quietness like a blanket.
If there are gloves around, Ossian will put on a pair. He points at the bound volumes.
"May I have a look?" It is not really a question. What does he find?
Brother Farwind fetches the book while Ossian pulls on the gloves. They are thin, but not beyond the technology of Paris to produce.
Ossian pulls out one of a few volumes from the shelf. It is neither the thinnest volumne not the largest. It looks like some sort of prayer book, and the prayers are illustrated. Only the central image is a trump. It goes to a building with the familiar design of a Klybesian outpost, but one Ossian is not familiar with. The light on the building is very bright and it looks as it it may be opening to an interior courtyard, similar to the one here.
Ossian can't tell for sure if it is a full working Trump or a broken sketch. It seams sealed, but not correctly (or perhaps "not expertly"). The only way to know for sure would be to have it fail after using it.
Ossian nods. "Fine work. What does this show? How many such paintings do you have here?"
Farwind looks at the volume Ossian is inspecting. "There are a few. I think that is the rectory at Chateauneuf." He pauses. "One of the reasons some of those are kept here is that we don't use them frequently."
After Farwind answers, Ossian will gather all volumes containing Trumps from this room, possibly asking one of the monks to carry them for him. Then he turns to brother Farwind. "Now, please show us the vault."
Regenlief leans in, in case Brother Farwind or one of the others thinks to object. He doesn't.
"It's back here." He looks at Regelief. "My Lord," he adds, realizing he's been remiss with titles as they've been talking.
The vault is at the back and looks reasonably secure, but not secure beyond Ossian's skills and abilities were he or Regenlief to decide to force the issue.
Inside are 3 paintings on easels, and a flat rack at the back. All three are places. One looks like a desert scene, the others are closer to the courtyard in the one under repair outside the vault.
"The ones at the back are not working, and we use them to train new conservators."
Ossian looks at the three paintings on the easels. Are they the same style as the other Trumps he has seen?
They look just good enough to possibly work. Brand would've laughed at the effort. They are not aesthetically pleasing, nor are they particularly well composed or artistic. Student work at best. Or else something else about them was important to the painter. There is a sort of primitive, naturalistic energy to them.
The he proceeds to look through the rack. He will try all the paintings there to ensure that none of them are working. He is also interested in seeing what they show.
"This will take a while," he says. "Make yourselves comfortable."
They do not make themselves comfortable, but they do scurry off to corners to discuss amongst themselves.
The paintings in the rack include both complete and incomplete paintings, some of which have pencil marks on canvas to extend the scene to as-yet-unpainted parts of the canvas. The ones like that have likely never been more than trump sketches. The subjects are almost entirely landscapes, and vary from monasteries in city blocks to monasteries in rolling hills, and from monasteries alongside major rivers to monasteries under dramatic moonlight.
Ossian finishes his investigation and turns to Brother Farwind. "Do we know who made any of these paintings?"
Farwind looks at them. "They are from the Painting Master. Or supposedly are. I have met him, and I don't know how he could be old enough to paint the oldest ones attributed to him."
Are there any working trumps/sketches here that would not survive travelling by Trump to Paris?
It's something of a card draw, but nothing looks either permanent or exactly like a single-use sketch. Sort of like unsealed Trumps. Or perhaps they used to be sealed. It's all very fragile looking, but not broken.
"I am curious about this mysterious man. I know a number of people who can draw real paintings. Where and when did you meet him? How does he look?" Ossian smiles.
"He's only mysterious to those who do not know the workings of the holy cards. His comings and goings are his, but his methods are understandable. He arrives at many of the houses, reviews their needs for Holy Paintings, and leaves. I first met him in the Asir Chapter-house, where I had come to study after joining the Order in the Plain of Towers.
"He is not a striking man; your eyes would not linger on him in a crowd. But his eyes take in everything, and he can paint for days on end."
Ossian laughs. "Interesting." He pulls out his deck of cards. "I doubt any of these are your painting master, but there might be resemblances." He shows the cards one by one to the brother.
Farwind stares at the cards. "Do you mean to say someone has made Holy Pictures of people? That doesn't make sense, how would you even go to them? He stares at the trump of Brennan, and Regenlief puts her rather large hand on his shoulder.
He turns, surprised. "Don't try to use it. It would be a grave mistake on your part," she says.
He nods. "I wouldn't know how," he complains, "I don't see him in your cards. All these people look like dae-- divine archetypes."
Ossian frowns "You seem to find this man of special interest" --he holds up the picture of Brennan. "Have you met him?"
"He looks like a famous general from Reman history. There are statues. Can't be the same man, of course."
"Why can't this be a picture of a dead man, or even an interpretation of a statue? I know that the artist is known for all kinds of shenanigans."
"Well, you asked me if I'd met him, so perhaps I assumed incorrectly that he is alive. And it was a good guess about statues. That's how Remans represented people they wished to honor. Reman portraiture wasn't nearly as advanced as the techniques I learned after leaving that place."
"So you paint?" Do you know how to make real paintings?"
"Yes and no, my Lord. I know how to conserve and care for them, but they are beyond the scope of mortal men. I paint mundane paintings, without the holy gift to make them real."
"That opens up a very interesting theological question. Does the gift make one holy, or can someone get that gift in another way?"
Farwind thinks for a moment. "While no person who dons the cassock is without his desire to grapple with theological issues great and small, it is not an issue I have considered myself. From what I remember when introduced to them the painting is holy, because it works a miracle through a greater power and conveys that miracle to those who view it and know how to use them. The divine spark is in the connection of two disparate places. The act of connecting a painting to a distant place imparts holiness.
"I assume it would require knowledge, the correct mindset, and channeling the power of the divine, but I am no expert."
Ossian will want to ship all the Trumps to Paris. Preferrably by Trump, hopfully not destroying all of them.
They'd like a receipt. Do you really need all of them? They aren't supposed to let them out of their control. Can the priests go with you? They will protest if you just take their lives' work and head back to Paris. Not to the point of actually committing violence to stop you, but cooperation will become less-cooperative...
Ossian will write a receipt, smiling slightly. The receipt will not contain any promise of returning the paintings. And yes, he really needs all of them. Brother Farwind can go with Ossian to Paris. (He seems to know some important stuff and might be handy to have around. Also he seems to know important stuff, so we should keep eyes on him. Of course this is not mentioned.)
Farwind nods and tells his conservators that he will do his best to care for the paintings in Paris. He suggests they tell the Abbot and the Primate where they have gone and give them the receipt.
Ossian will then choose to ride to Paris, to spare the Trump sketches.
The guards get the instruction to let the monks do teaching and healing and other things that benefit the poor and the city at large. They should keep the monks confined to the monastery as far as possible. If any visitors to the monastery arrive from out of town, they should be arrested and a message should be sent to Paris. No communication with other monasteries is allowed. Any infringements should be reported to Paris swiftly.
The guards agree, and send word for someone to take charge.
The ride to Paris is easier in the daylight, and they would be making good time, except Farwind isn't much of a rider. Regenlief wants to let him follow at his own pace. If he's motivated enough to come with them, he's motivated enough to catch up to them. Eventually.
Last modified: 1 January 2023