[WFRP2e] The Power of One - Part 2 - "Transire Benefaciendo"

[BananaPhone]

Taalia Giovanni

Ignorant, but well-meaning Taalia self-consciously watched her friend and attempted her best to mimic the movements of the ritualistic prayer that they were both offering to the gentle and merciful Goddess of the temple. Her efforts were mostly on point and followed through, but there were a few instances where her replication were less than impressive. One such occurrence arose when the time came to perform the requisite hand signal, the shepardess looking at Bella's interwoven fingers and attempting to do likewise, only for her hands to mix and mash together in an ever more convoluted serious of gestures that might have earned a stifled snicker from her friend. Visibly growing irritated, Taalia narrowed her eyes and grunted softly in frustration before simply holding up her hands before her, palms facing her, and crossed them past each other until her thumbs met. Seeing the general shape of a...bat? Something with wings, Taalia brought it down into her lap, rose her flanking sheet of fingers, pricked her thumbs upwards and smiled once and nodded in satisfaction that she had mostly managed to replicate this divine signal.

However, when the four youths and their portly, older ringleader attempted their theft, Taalia had actually been considering offering the small crowd of hobo's a gold coin. This temple was a sacred realm of mercy and charity after all, but the girl couldn't help remember back to her time in the Oxen Quarter of Verezza and how her efforts to provide some respite to the less fortunate only seemed to attract more people who felt themselves worthy of her charity and extended their hand with an open palm to receive as such. The experience had been...conflicting for Taalia, to say the least. Conflicting in that she genuinely wanted to give assistance to those who needed a helping hand from those around them, much as she had when she had emerged from the Skaven Under-Empire, and those who were merely lazy or lived in a fantasy world of victimhood where their poor situation was everyone else's fault and if they were just simply handed some money then they would absolutely spend it wisely and all would be better for it. The problem was discerning between the two groups, for the latter could easily string together some sob story that would pull at the heart-strings and camouflage them as a member of the former camp.

Perhaps it was better if she did not intervene with coins, Taalia thought to herself. Besides, the group had managed to cobble together enough of a donation to purchase the favour of a single dove. Surely the gods would see into the hearts of those gathered and be able to separate the deserving from the freeloader.

It was then that Taalia spotted the theft taking place, her mind needing to undergo several reverse-steps to make sure what she was registering was truly what was taking place. Surely this group were not stealing from a holy site like this? And from a goddess of mercy and healing?! A group of homeless beggars went to the trouble of pooling their resources and handing it over to the church in return for just a sliver of divine mercy, yet here these four arrogant bastards were in an act of blasphemous desecration for their own petty gain?! The longer Taalia beheld this ruse the more her blood boiled, and it was only a mental reminder that this was holy ground that stayed her gloved hand from moving to the hilt of her sword, drawing it and screaming bloody thievery.

Plus there was something about the silhouette the new fingers of the statue created, something about it that drew Taalia's mind years back in time to that oddly shaped root she had discovered by the river in the first twenty four hours of her freedom...

Pursing her lips, Taalia started to move, her trajectory carried by her long legs that ensured she managed to intercept the men and place herself between them and the temples exit.

"Excuse me, Singores?" Taalia spoke, wearing that bright smile of hers, despite carrying two guns on her hips, a sword, a shield, clearly wearing mail armor, a steel helm upon her head and a blunderbuss over her shoulder - she had a winning, infectious smile.

"I am a traveler through these parts, and I am starting a tradition where I offer respect to the gods with the locals of every place I visit. Would you fine singores do me the honour...?" she started, before her eyes moved over to the nearest initiate, or group there-of.

"Singora? Singora?!" Taalia spoke, projecting her sonorous voice to gain their attention.

"These men have said they wish to pray with me, would you please come over here and lead us in procession?"

OOC:
Readying her action to draw her blunderbuss on the group if they try to make a run for it.