Butler Vigil -- Part 2 -- 12/2/98

[HYWASaint@aol.com]

Part 2 of the Butler Vigil.  Logged by Cesare.


You pass the Mall.

Butler Plaza -- Central District (Kaitain)
At the center of the plaza is a pillar with the statue of Jehanne Butler
sitting upon her steed. Around the pillar are smaller statues of faceless
figures of other heros of the Jihad. On the other side of a wide roadway,
surrounding the pillar, are large buildings, each with its own decorative
front. Cast iron benches are set about in front of some of the buildings.
Players:
 Cesare                                Steffan                              
Exits:
 Vaulted Arch <E> leads to Vestibule -- Imperial Cathedral (Kaitain) 
 Marble Steps  leads to Lobby -- Imperial Theater (Kaitain) 
 Marbled Steps <N> leads to The Hall of Emperors -- Imperial Museum (Kaitain) 
 Mall <W> leads to Saudir I Plaza -- Central District (Kaitain)

Steffan passes the Mall.

Steffan has left.

Steffan comes from the Saudir I Plaza.

Steffan has arrived.

Iason walks in from Vestibule through the Vaulted Arch.

Iason has arrived.

look

Cesare stands near the pillar, a lit candle flickering in his grasp.

Iohannes walks in from Vestibule through the Vaulted Arch.

Iohannes has arrived.

Iason follows Praxton out

Ivanova comes from the Saudir I Plaza.

Ivanova has arrived.

Praxton comes from the Saudir I Plaza.

Praxton has arrived.

Iohannes bows low to the Siridari and na - Siridari, but struggles to restrain
his cough...

Praxton moves toawrds the base of the pillar.

Cesare smiles and nods to the rest of those assembled, careful so as not to
drop his lit taper.

One of the lesser church attendents leads the procession out and about the
statue. She herself stands closest the the statue. Her eyes wander out across
the crowd as she waits for everyone to emerge and take their places.

Maia walks in from Vestibule through the Vaulted Arch.

Maia has arrived.

Ivanova moves forward, though it seems she's watching the candle in her hands
more than the direction the crowd about her leads her.

Sumter walks in from Vestibule through the Vaulted Arch.

Sumter has arrived.

Joral comes from the Saudir I Plaza.

Joral has arrived.

Tynan raises her voice. She has chosen a solemn one for this occasion... and
it's probably why the Cardinal had chosen her, "We have each heard the story
of Saint Jehanne Buelter." She turns her head to meet the eyes of each person,
"We share her light. We share the light of their struggle."
Ivanova finally comes to a stop as the people about her stop. In the lack of
motion, she lifts her head to look up at the statue and then the attendent.

Tynan lets herself pause and then continue, "Now is the time that we remember
our own contributions to this flame." Again, a pause... for dramatic effect of
course... she turns from one area to another, "Each of you have contributed to
this flame. Now come forth and share with us your struggles."

Maia makes her way slowly through the people gathered to catch up with
Iohannes, stopping slightly behind him, watching him obliquely as she listens.

Iohannes watches placidly.

Cesare walks out, holding his candle in front of him. He stops in front of the
pillar, raising his glimmering taper in homage to Jehanne before turning back
to the crowd.

Niccolo comes from the Saudir I Plaza.

Niccolo has arrived.

Sumter follows Maia through the crowds, holding his candle in a distracted
manner, hand folded around i. As he walks, the candle bobs, sending small
beads of wax onto a glove, and over the floor.

You move to stand under the pillar of Jehanne Butler.

Ivanova turns her eyes towards Cesare. Her brow furrows slightly as a confused
expression passes over her face.

Cesare addresses the people, "House Moritani has undergone a continual
struggle for more than ten thousand years now....the struggle of duty."

Steffan looks around cautiously at the some of the late arrivals while still
listening to the woman.

Niccolo nods at Cesare's words

Nils comes from the Saudir I Plaza.

Nils has arrived.

Steffan eyes Cesare as he speaks muttering something inaudibly.

Cesare blinks back tears as he stares into the flame before him, "We have
fought for millenia to serve our Emperor, the struggle of Jihad having been
transformed to one of duty and servitude. We have succeeded at times, and
failed at others, but even though we may stumble and fall, our flame near-
extinguished, still we perservere."

Cesare raises his candle above his head as he cries out in a loud, booming
voice, "We fought at the Battle of Corrin. We supported the Corrinos, threw
every last asset we had behind them. It was a win or lose situation, there
could be no salvaging if we had backed the wrong party."

Nils is wheeled in by Dr. Schadenfreude, having removed the motor from his
wheelchair in honor of the vigil. The good doctor struggles admirably, pushing
the wheelchair across the uneven cobbles of the square.

You say, "But we knew...we knew we had cast our lot with those in the right.
Even today, when struggle may come our way and trials beset us, we remember
the Battle of Corrin, when the flame of duty shone its brightest, when we gave
our all for a goal which transcended any petty desires for the power or profit
that would come from our success. Our ships and our financial resources helped
to save the floundering Sheuset....and to this day we continue to carry our
flame, we continue to carry on our struggle no matter the cost, even as we did
so long ago.""

Niccolo stares around at the other participants, watching their reactions to
Cesare's words

Cesare gives a conspicuous glance to Praxton, "In these times, when the voices
of opposition to the Imperium are crying out like never before, we remain a
voice of support." He then turns his visage back to the crowds, "Our
flame..burns on." With that, the Count takes his place back amongst the group
comprised of the rest of the speakers.

Ivanova's eyes look elsewhere. A faint smile appears upon her face. In the
smallest manner, she seems to almost be shaking her head to and fro as her
eyes half close.

Maia watches Cesare over a multitude of shoulders for a few moments, but turns
at the sound of wheels over cobblestones. Turning away from the pillar, she
quickly makes her way to the Viscount's side, her slight form weaving silently
amoungst the crowd.

Niccolo moves to Cesare's side and nods to his Count

Cesare gives a slight grin in acknowledgement of his Swordsmaster.

Nils looks confusedly around, as if lost. His loyal Suk pushes him over to
join the siridars before the pillar. Recognizing his cousines, he nods twice,
as if through a haze.

Nils comes to join you under the pillar.

Tynan speaks up as Cesare departs, "Our flame... burns on." She repeats, "Well
Spoken Count Moritani. Is there another?" Her eyes scan the crowd again. Will
she have to call upon someone to step forth or will they be brave. "Come
now... ah... Viscount." She ends with a smile.

Cesare bows his head to the arriving and ailing Siridar, giving the old man a
reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Niccolo nods his greeting to Siridar Nils

Iohannes moves over to his siridar, bowing low.

Nils acts as if he doesn't hear Tynan, apparently content to remain in his
dream world. Dr. Schadenfreude pushes him forward and whispers something in
his ear. Nils sits up, startled, and begins to speak.

Maia stops a polite distance away from the gathered Siridars, glancing once
over her shoulder before fixing an almost protective gaze on her Viscount.

Iohannes looks nervously about, then bows to the other siridari, casting a
worried eye upon the Viscount.

Nils coughs loudly, and begins hesitantly. "Ahh, yes...the Jihad! I remember
the Jihad. Yes, who doesn't? The Jihad, that is." He looks around
questioningly, his eyes fixing on the Count Moritani.

Iason looks over towards Nils, his face solemn as he listens.

Sumter too, hears the creaking of wheels, and begins to weave his way through
the crowds towards a point close to Nils, his hand on his swordbelt. By the
expression on his face, it appears that he certainly hopes that the viscount
has come out with an appropriate number of guards tonight.

Cesare gives a wry grin to his fellow Siridar.

Cesare bends down to Nils and quietly mutters something to the aged Viscount.

A soft murmur lifts from the crowd as they wait for the Viscount to start
talking.

Nils nods, and emits an uncomfortable laugh. "Ahh, that Jihad! The Butler one,
you say? Ha ha...what was I thinking?..." He clears his throat, embarrased.
"The Jihad was...a great and...memorable time in history. One of the great
moments. Yes, a great moment, it was, indeed!"

Maia hisses softly through her teeth, sending an indiscriminant glare over the
murmuring crowd before turning attentively back to Nils.

Cesare bends down and, with a kindly touch of the old man's hand, whispers
into the man's ear again.

Iohannes whispers into the ear of Nils...

Sumter fingers his collar nervously, his eyes darting once over the assembled,
before forcing his hand back down to his side, and attempting to act as though
absolutely nothing is wrong with the speech, at all.

Cesare rises back up, his eyes worriedly staring at the invalid.

Ivanova licks her lips lightly. Her brow knits with the pain she feels as she
watches the Viscount.

Nils listens attentively to the Lord Moritani and Ambassador Helmsgildar, and
begins again. "The worst part, I'd say, were those thinking machines. Bad
things, they were! You can't even talk about the Jihad without mentioning
them, no you can't. Slaughtered them by the handful, we did." His eyes glaze
over as he slips back in to his dream state. "That was a long, long time ago,
that Jihad. 'Twas only a lad, I was. But even so, I killed dozens of them
thinking machines. Smart little chaps, but how they squealed when you caught
'em." He laughs quietly as he remembers the robot's discomfort. "Crazy
thinking machines. Glad they're gone, I am." He nods, satisfied, and promptly
falls asleep.

Dr. Schadenfreude, his ruddy features turning even more red, wheels the
Viscount back under the pillar to join Praxton and Cesare.

Iohannes nods gravely, his face a mask.

Praxton clears his throat discreetly, announcing plainly that he wishes to
speak.

Stepping forward, Ivanova approaches one of the pillars. She is about to clear
her voice when she spots the Duke. A weak smile appears upon her face as she
bows her head and remains silent.

Several eyes, especially those closest to Praxton, turn to this direction. The
murmurring seems to come in waves after the speech from the Viscount.

Cesare raises an eyebrow at the Duke.

Praxton notices the lady Rastanyev about to move forward, then retracting. He
essays a shy, apologetic smile, then does something unusual: he shrugs off his
formal jacket, with its golden Landsraad High Council medallion attached.

Standing in his shirtsleeves, the Duke Atreides lifts high the plain little
candle he has been holding, "We remember Jehanne Butler, and continue her
struggle in our own way..."

Cesare stands grasping his hands tightly behind his back, his face bearing a
brow furrowed in curiosity and frustration and a mouth turned downward in a
frown.

"Before her fight began, there was no light. Humans lived in fear of each
other, neither sharing nor giving freely of themselves... because of the
Machines," Praxton states. "For where there is fear there can be no trust, and
where there is no trust there can be no love."

Praxton continues, "And where there is no love, there is no light. It was the
greatest love Sante Butler held for humanity, to fight and die for the truth
that would, eventually, give us back the light."

"Before her fight began, there was no light. Humans lived in fear of each
other, neither sharing nor giving freely of themselves... because of the
Machines," Praxton states. "For where there is fear there can be no trust, and
where there is no trust there can be no love.""

Nils mumbles in his sleep. His lips move, but little sound escapes. Soft,
incomprehensible syllables follow each other contentedly.

Praxton lowers his candle, its flame flickering as his breath shakes it, "We
live in this light, we are born and die in it, nevev to forget what it means.
Never to look at one another in distrust or fear, because we need not fear the
Other. We are one, brothers and sisters, husbands and wives. We should neither
forget this, nor in our weakness seek other, newer Machines to take this light
from us."

"Because such is tyranny. Such is hatred. Such is spite. Worse a million times
than the Machines, because they come from the human heart, that most sacred of
sanctuaries." The Duke's voice goes soft as he ends, "Would that, by lighting
this candle, we could erase the shadows of all that would rule the human
heart, take us from the light and remove from us this... this most important
thing."

Nils, still in a deep sleep, emits a little squeal, possibly in imitation of a
cornered thinking machine. He giggles softly in his sleep as the good Doctor
looks down with a concerned look.

Praxton steps back and falls silent.

"I am..." A voice comes out shakey at first. It gains power as it rises over
the crowd. Slowly, eyes turn to find it is Ivanova that speaks, "... a woman.
And as such, feel the pain that must have gone through Saint Buelter's
heart... and soul. I have read her works many times and have never found them
to be misleading."

Ivanova again lightly licks her lips before beginning, "On my homeworld...
things are simple. We grow from the land... bringing with it the nutrients of
life itself." She lowers one hand as if scooping something in the air before
her, "It is through the loving care of HUMAN hands that assure the proper care
is given to each life giving plant."

Ivanova lets her eyes dart donwward to the ground, "It was my brother's
wish..." Her voice falters again slightly, "To keep it such... for the
tradition that no thinking machine would control the cycle of a the essence...
of life." Her last words are barely audible and she quickly steps down from
near the pillar.
:gives a slight grin as the Lady Rastanyev finishes.

Cesare gives a slight grin as the Lady Rastanyev finishes.

Dr. Schadenfreude motions Iohannes over and whispers a few hurried words to
the Ambassador. He points to the Viscount, and then to his left side, where
his medical bag usually hangs--but does not, tonight.

Iohannes nods to the doctor, then whispers quietly, accepting a key, "I'll
send a runner with it as soon as I get it from your chambers."

Iohannes bobbing quietly and respectfully, leaves the vigil.

Iohannes passes the Mall.

Iohannes has left.

Iason looks around quietly, to see if any of his betters wish to speak.

Tynan nods towards Iason, "Go ahead Sir."

Iason takes a deep breath and steps towards the podium, turning to face the
crowd. "Sante Butler lived and died to give humanity something that it had
lost long before her time; the right and the choice to choose its own fate.
Jehanne Butler's crusade against the machines was taken up by others who
shared this belief."

Iason's lips curl up in a humorless smile. "Long before the guild, the
Machines were charged with the task of plying the spaceways, managing the
affairs of people, and given control over the way people lived and died, and
when."

Iason says, "Human beings did not live as people, but as cogs in a greater
machine, and forgot God and his Grace. Some even descended to uniting with the
Machines rather than accept God's mercy, and turned away from his Light. And
the light that each human being carries in his or her heart."

Iason looks down at his candle, held chest high before him. "The heart
embodies the best and worst of humanity as a whole; love, hatred, anger, fear,
trust, and joy all spring from it. The mind and the body can reason and build,
but only the heart gives people the ability to become closer to God. The
Machines, in their cold and ruthless logic, attempted to alter the mind,
control the body, and remove the heart in order to make humans more like them.
Jehanne Butler fought and died for humanity to give it the freedom to choose
its own path to salvation.

From the west, a runner approaches, carrying something over his head. Several
members crane their necks to look, as if expecting a torch, perhaps. The
runner carries, instead, two vials, one containing a thin blue liquid, the
other, a viscous red one. As he reaches the square, he slows, so as not to
alarm the guards protecting the assembled siridari. He hands the two vials to
Dr. Schadenfreude, who thanks him with a silent nod. The runner departs.

Iason says, "The beauty of the universe lies in the uncertainties it presents,
and the light of God's face, the two concepts that the Machines did not
understand or accept. It is our fallibility that makes us closer to God and
his forgiveness, for that is what makes us human. All of us, from the
mightiest to the lowest, are all equal in the eyes of our Lord. It is from our
mistakes and His forgiveness that we find grace."

Iason steps down quietly, silent as death.

Dr. Schadenfreude uncorks the vials and sets to combining them, pouring the
red mixture into the blue vial, then setting one vial upon the other and
shaking vigorously. As the chemicals combine, their colors disappear, leaving
a clear liquid. A vapor begins to collect in the upturned vial.

Dr. Schadenfreude holds the two vials near Nils' face, careful not to disjoin
them before placing them directly under his nose. When he does, the vapor
rises into Nils' nose and causes it to twitch.

From the outer regions of the gathered crowd, a hum goes up. It resolves
itself into a hymn, gaining force as it reaches the center of the Plaza.

Nils awakes with a start, grimacing from the smell of the chemical fumes. He
looks around as if not knowing where he is. Although still confused, his eyes
appear clear and lucid; the dreamy haze has left.

Dr. Schadenfreude whispers something in Nils' ear.

Praxton moves away from the area under the pillar.

Praxton picks up his discarded jacket, almost like an afterthought. He flicks
a speck of dirt off it, then drapes it over his arm. He casts a glance at
Iason.

Nils mutters to Dr. Schadenfreude, "... may... speak?"

As the music picks up volume. The people begin to disperse from about the
statue. A million points of light flicker across the streets. Each carrying
its own piece of the flame.

Dr. Schadenfreude mutters to Nils, "My... Viscount... already."

Nils looks startled and befuddled, apparently not remembering the events of
this night's Vigil.

Cesare pulls his cloak tightly around himself and strides off towards the
central plaza and his waiting limosine.

You pass the Mall.

*END OF LOG*