Devout Believer (Ellowyn, Marta)

The entrance to the temple of Yondalla can only be entered through an unassuming wooden door framed by two towering trees. Once inside, visitors and supplicants to the goddess may view the beautiful gardens which are tended by her clerics in service to the fertility mother-goddess.

Peaceful paths meander in pleasing patterns through the greenery, allowing weary pilgrims to rest their souls and find refreshment. Rowdy children run freely through a park of mown grass set aside just for them, tumbling and playing and picking flowers to braid crowns. Yondalla is goddess of law and order, yes, but she is also goddess of fertility and family, and understands how to accommodate the messy realities of these domains.

Ellowyn has been here many times before, of course. Pilgrims come to the goddess seeking miracles and cures, only to find that those miracles cost more than they were prepared to pay. Ellowyn provides miracles of a cheaper sort: canes and chairs with wheels and braces for necks and backs and legs. The work is rewarding for them and they like helping people--and the pay isn't bad, either. Everything has felt different since they were brought back to life, however; as though this new body were a half-step out of sync with their old reflexes.

Through a small crowd of pilgrims, they see the familiar face they'd come here half-seeking: Marta Agosti, customer and patron and... friend? Yes, maybe, though it was hard to tell with the strong-willed elderly woman who could be loving one moment and heavy-handed the next. She sits on a stone bench on the quieter side of the gardens, away from the children, and meditates on a single perfect long-stemmed rose which she holds in her hands.

Slowly picking their way through the throng, nodding at those who smiled Ellowyn shuffled slightly not entirely trusting their knee still.

Their shoulders tense not from using their cane but from the sheer force of will to not use it. They imagine this must be how folk who had lost a limb might feel like. The strangeness of noticing the absence of a thing that had once been a part of your whole. It was still an adjustment despite it being several weeks.

When Ellowyn had awoken the clerics who brought them back had told them that they were healed as a consequence, wasn't it truly a divine blessing!

Ellowyn still wasn't sure.

Marta looked radiant as always. Ellowyn appreciated aesthetics. They had never considered themselves a sexual being but they truly fell in love with the beauty in people. it didn't need to be physical they just seemed to find something in most everyone that they fell in love with. Not that they'd ever do anything about those feelings. They liked to yearn to feel the angst of a crush but they had never truly felt desired in that way and thus had never truly been in a relationship.

The thing they loved most about Marta was her spirit. This whirlwind this glorious force of nature had brought them back despite their problems adjusting they were grateful for another chance to appreciate the beauty of the world in all its forms. Mostly they were grateful for the opportunity to make the world a more beautiful place.

As Ellowyn approaches Marta they notice the way the dappled light of the grove hits her hair making it glow like strands of light forming an organic halo of intricate design. The dusky red light reflecting off the rose blushes her complexion pleasantly.

Ellowyn stops to watch and smile.

After a second they cough politely and approach picking up her cane off the bench next to her and unscrewing several things from their own.

They sit and begin making small adjustment here and there silently waiting for Marta to talk.

Marta doesn't respond right away, but then again she never does. She talks in her own time, just as she does everything else. Eventually she lays the rose gently onto the seat beside her. "Brace needs a replacement strap," she observes gruffly. "Second one down the left side's getting stiff. It fights me every time I tighten it."

The brace needs to be off for Ellowyn to repair it, and Marta never sheds the contraption in public. Odd, then, that she would meet with Ellowyn at the temple rather than at her home.

"shall I go find us a room or is the public at last going to get the show they so greatly desire?" Ellowyn says with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

" I've been thinking about some upgrades that will help fix this. It'll be expensive, a special kind of leather, frogodile to be precise. Its got a better elasticity. And supposedly it's lighter and more durable although I'll be the judge of that."

As Ellowyns talking their hands continue to fly over martas cane. Diligent and practiced, at least this hadn't changed while so much else had.

Ellowyn was feeling hot despite being in this beautiful shaded grove. They were not used to this new garment they'd recently purchased that replicated the flatness of their old chest that their brace and the damage from accident had caused.

It pulled at them in ways their old body had not. They were so painfully aware of things they hadn't noticed before. Perhaps things they hadn't had to deal with because of the more pressing issues of pain.

Marta chuckles, picking up her rose to smack Ellowyn lightly on the knee with the velvet flower. "The public had their chance when I used to paint the town red as a girl. I'm too old for encores, child." Still, she smiles and the light which dapples through Yondalla's trees plays over her amused face. "You can come by the house sometime and work on my brace. Try the new leather if you really want. Can't say I like the sound of changing things just when I'm getting used to the feel, but I'll try it if you're so set."

She shakes her head, putting that subject to the side. "I know we're still on for our standing appointment in a few weeks, but I wanted to talk to you before then and I was coming down to the temple anyway. Two birds with one arrow. I've found a job for you. Good client, good payment. Only it's clerical work instead of your usual crafting work. You still interested in picking up jobs I find?"

As they finish up their adjustments they begin giving their work the once over checking their adjustments and then they smoothly present marta her cane, handle towards her.
"Oh, I genuinely dont see why everyone classes my work as any less clerical" this is an old rant one Marta has heard many times before about how just because they don't often do the kinds of work clerics are known for all that wishy washy spell work that's so unreliable does not mean they aren't providing miracles on behalf of Ehlonna spreading the good where ever they go.
Marta knows this is something Ellowyn has had to defend before to other clerics in their order, rock gnomes after all don't often become nature clerics.

They stop ranting when they remember themselves.

"Apologies," they blush and look away and take a deep breath " you say you have work?"

Marta shakes her head again, amusement etched into the lines on her elderly face. "Yes, child. Do you know Laerdya Siannodel, the wizard lady who lives in the Feytower?"

Ellowyn has indeed heard of her; the reclusive elven woman is famous for her scholarly and magical work. She is currently researching the plague which sweeps the city and is considered to be Brilight's best hope for a cure.

"indeed, I've had my eye on a collection of her earlier essays interesting thoughts on the resonance of physical matter and how we can use it to improve enchanting. Gets a bit esoteric from what I've heard though." Ellowyn doesn't often speak to many people but Marta is one of the few who hears their stream of consciousness rambles occasionally.

They catch themselves again and exclaims " wait how does she know about me? Who have you been over estimating my abilities to now Marta?"

Ellowyn turns a paler shade as they contemplate what this sweet but overconfident woman had said.

Marta sticks a crooked finger in the gnome's face, scolding lightly only to then tap them affectionately on the nose. "I over-estimate nothing," she declares firmly. "I know Laerdya from... a time in my past. She called on me recently and we got to talking about... oh, things."

She waves a hand airily, losing interest in the details. "Odds and ends. It came up that she needs help and she agreed that you sound like someone who could help her. I told her you'd visit her at the Feytower on the 7th of Eleint. Just to talk. If you don't like the job, you don't have to take it--but I'd consider it a favor to myself if you did."

It would be wrong to say Marta doesn't ask for favors; she does, regularly and with great insistence. But something in her rough voice is strained now, as if she's fighting back an emotion she'd rather not show to others. Ellowyn receives the sense that this favor means a great deal to Marta, more so than her usual passel of requests and demands.

Immediately Ellowyn softens.

"Of course l'll go, that's a few weeks from now? Does she need me to take my accoutrements or will she be providing the particulars?"

Suddenly nervous Ellowyn wonders if perhaps after this visit with marta they should go visit Ehlonnas temple and brush up on their less useful of practices and prayers. Their brows knit together in worry as they begin to mentally prepare. Ellowyn was not a natural cleric despite the irony of being a nature cleric.

Marta is quiet for a long moment, staring into the gardens nearby until Ellowyn begins to question whether the elderly woman heard their question. "I imagine she'll provide you will whatever you need, child, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to take your kit. I'm not quite sure what all she needs, just that she needs you. And perhaps another miracle," she adds in a sadder tone, papery fingers touching the rose stem once more before rising from her seat.

"I'll see you at my house our usual appointment time," she says, all smart crispness again; the brace which supports her back stiffens her into the lines of a proper lady, arch and imposing even in the twilight of her life. "Don't be late, child. Well, no later than you usually are," she adds with a tiny smile.

Ellowyn nods and reaches out almost to touch martas hand before stopping short and quietly saying "I hope I can help however she needs but more importantly, Marta look after yourself please?"

And then with that they turn and pack their tools back into their cane. They sit and watch one of the most important people in their life walk away and they are swept into a wave of melancholy and they can't figure out why.

Marta gives them a soft smile, almost sorrowful, and nods as she sweeps away.

---
[OOC: Oh my heart at Ellowyn's melancholy. I think that's an end-of-scene unless there's anything else Ellowyn wants to do or say before we close this one.]

(OOC: Nope lovely I think that's a wrap for now I just wanted this done before your surgery so you didn't have to worry about it because I know what your like.

They're so angsty and melancholic and wistful.

They like to think they're practical and pragmatic but my gods their so extra)

(OOC: Haha, you do know me so well. Thank you, love.

And yes, their melancholy is both heart-breaking and something I identify with very strongly, ha.)