Scene #2326: On Technology and Magic

Owner	Pose
Faruja	Bervennia, unlike many smaller cities in Ivalice, is mostly free of urban decay, crime, and other aspects that make up urban life in the war-torn kingdom. It's called the 'Free' City of Bervennia for a very specific reason: being the birthplace of Saint Ajora, it is revered as the second holiest place in Ivalice. The Holy Church directly oversees the place, and very few are willing to risk the organization's wrath. Though not nearly as well defended as Mullonde, gold-clad Templar and other knightly orders are a common site alongside priests and laypersons that help keep the city running. It /is/, however, a very odd city. Built against the side of a mountain, it has several tiers and roads that make for at times a cramped feeling from so many living here. Carriage traffic is at a minimum and only through the main thoroughfare leading to and from Lesalia. Royal troops can be seen as well, though they walk more carefully here: the Royal Family has no control in this city and the Church broaches no disrespect here. Faruja Senra, for his part, is haunting a small cafe alongside the main road. Sipping tea and occasionally devouring a scone, he's dressed in a much more plain version of his usual robes. His Inquisitorial seal, however, hangs on his neck alongside a more normal Ajoran Cross. The waitstaff is being distinctly helpful to the rat despite his race, and most customers are giving him a wide berth despite a seemingly friendly look to his face.
Taro	It's a very odd thing, really. It reminds him a bit of a place he once considered home but to which he can never return. Not so much the architecture, definitely not the dearth of proper technology. It's the location, mostly. Along with the cramped conditions. Having an unavoidable layover, Taro seeks out a place to wile away the time. While he has no need to eat (and quite frankly he finds the entire process to be revolting), a cup of soothing tea and a seat that is not rocking, swaying, jerking, or bouncing would be quite welcome at this point. Thus... A small, dark-haired and dark-eyed man pushes open the door to the cafe at which Faruja just happens to enjoying tea and scones. His clothes may mark him as the stranger he is as he steps inside. He makes a quick, appraising look at the room, perhaps looking for a server or an empty table. Then, though surely he must have noticed the wide space around the robed mouseling, he steps into that gap between him and the other patrons. then, unless someone makes clear to him that this establishment seats its patrons, he will take the nine smooth and graceful steps needed to reach an empty table within the zone of exclusion and pull out a chair.
Faruja	Faruja spies the small hume entering the cafe mid tea-sip. It seems to be the 'seat-yourself' sort of place, a few patrons peering at the oddly garbed man. His clothing 'screams' outsider, almost immediately drawing the rodent's attention. "Faram's blessings be upon thee, traveller! Fair winds and an easy road, I trust?" Comes the Inquisitor warmly, crossing his chest reverently. It seems that at least the being isn't afraid to talk with your random traveller. There's a tall, well dressed serving woman soon offering Taro a menu. There's a slightly nervous look in her eyes, though she's more than polite.
Taro	The outsider seems to be accustomed to having eyes on him, or maybe it's more properly said that he's accustomed to ignoring the eyes on him. It's only the one eye whose attention is returned. Yes, Faruja's injury has been noted and marked, but he does not seem any more troubled by that than the fact that he has white fur or sharp teeth. Neither of which seem to be bothering him all that deeply either. A well-travelled stranger, perhaps? "The winds are fair but the roads decidedly bumpy," is his dry answer. He almost considers a remark about this 'Faram', which sounds almost like the name of a certain reploid he knows, but no, better to keep such witticisms to himself. A polite nod without a smile to the serving lady as he's handed the menu, and he turns his gaze away from the mouseling to glance over it.
Faruja	Faruja offers a little sight at that. "A troubling age we live in, hmm? Hardly enough coin to see proper roads in places through a holy place such as this." He /doesn't/ drop his own witticism of the much better kept roads near Lesalia. Even he has to watch his tongue sometimes. "But ye chose a far safer road. Like as not to encounter brigands and heathens and worse in the south. Nevermind to the east, where Archadia encroaches. Lord be with ye, traveller, if ye seek such places." Then he offers a seated bow. "Inquisitor Faruja Senra, charmed. From whence doth ye hail?"
Taro	Taro did think to read through what information there was about the area he's passing through, and so he's not unaware of the spiritual importance of this place. Even if the exact deity and the saints that honor him or her are a bit fuzzy. "Money and resources are finite, yes," he agrees. "Whatever is in most desperate in need of both, that is where they usually go." That he is a heathen and worse he politely does not point out. Especially after Faruja introduces himself, title inclusive. A slight momentary arching of an eyebrow there, which could understandably have been at said title, but really it's at the name. Ah yes, him. The one who did a fair number on one of his robotic creations. Strange at all the coincidences the multiverse provides, meeting like this. Though his own identity seems to be for the moment undiscovered. "From an island on a little world that few have ever heard of," is his answer. Truth, after a fashion. That he does not live there -now- doesn't mean he didn't once live there. He bows his head deeply in return. "Would your calling be the reason for the respectful distance the others are granting you?" he asks with dry humor.
Faruja	Siiip. Faruja indulges in tea and scones, his gaze occasionally watching travellers and fellow Church members out of the window. Really, he loves this city, and it's decidedly more peaceful than most. One could almost forget all of the troubles outside or even in the Royal City itself. "Humble origins, is it? Well, I pray Ivalice shan't be too rough on ye during thine visit. Hard days." The rat flicks his seal, chuckling. "Quite. We hath something of a reputation, ye see. A majority of it patently absurd, but, 'tis useful enough to be feared in our line of work. ...Though I really couldst do without parting crowds whenever I wear this thing." A shrug. "And worry not, I shall not be tossing ye in some dungeon for a murmur or two. Too much paperwork. Soup kitchen for a few days, mayhaps." A little smirk right at Taro. "Ah, but enough about that. What brings ye to Ivalice? Business? Pleasure?"
Taro	"Mm. Perhaps. But we all must start from somewhere, hm?" Taro uses both please and thank you when ordering a pot of tea for himself from the waitstaff, though he's stingy with smiles. He hasn't given one so far, at least. The menu is handed back, signalling that he wants nothing further for now. "I see...though fear and respect must both be earned, at times where one end and the other begins can be hard to tell." He lightly cants his head to one side in question. "Then why wear these," he makes an almost-too-smooth gesture toward Faruja's robes, "when not actively doing the Church's work? Is it one of the vows you've made?"
Faruja	"So we do. So we do." Faruja inclines his head at that, pondering his own origins for a moment, before turning his attention back to Taro. The waitstaff step away with bows, and soon the rodent has new tea. Sip. "I must say I prefer respect, but, neither canst I blame others for their reactions. Better than what I wouldst get without it." His chuckle here is a bit bitter. A shake of the head. "Typically I leave the symbols of office at home when 'tis not directly needed. I hath found ye get a far better reception without it. But here? Ah, ye must truly be from the Multiverse. Welcome to the Free City of Bervennia. 'Tis the birthplace of our honored Saint Ajora, son of Faram! The Lord and His Son gave me the good fortune to come upon this Office, and so I wear its symbols while within. Next to Mullonde itself, ye cannot find a more hallowed place."
Taro	Another nod, this time directed at the waitstaff that brings his pot of tea at the same time as Faruja's. He has no idea what to expect of it, aside from unlikely to taste exactly like what's favored in his usual haunts. He pours some of it into his cup, and then sets the pot to one side where it's in reach but not in his way. "Thank you, and I see...quite understandable. As you are respected, so should you also respect the deity to whom you've vowed to serve." Partly in example of this, partly out of years of habit, and admittedly partly just to see how the Inquisitor will react, when he turns back to his cup he pauses to close his eyes, raise his right hand over the steam, and murmur something very softly. Only once that small ritual is completed doe he pick up the cup by its handle and take a sip.
Faruja	This is definitely one of the higher class cafes in the area, judging by the top-notch blend. Hints of spices and fruit make for a sweet and spicey tea. Perhaps an acquired taste, but it seems to be all the rage here. "Best to be thankful, and frankly it staves off the sin of pride and hubris." Faruja looks at Taro makes the gesture, one ear folding. There's slight suspicion in his eye, but he otherwise doesn't immediately make much of it. "Old gesture from home, I take it?" Inquires the rat lightly, and with a smile. Words chosen rather carefully, of course!
Taro	Hm. An interesting chemical composition, the blend organic compounds accentuated by the mineral content of the water. Not unlike but not exactly like one of the blends gifted to him during the holidays. Taro takes another sip of it before answering the question with something vague. "One could say that. One should show respect where respect is due, no matter where one goes."
Faruja	Faruja watches Taro ever more warily, with politely veiled suspicion that Taro has no doubt seen else where in similarly theologically inclined places when odd rituals are seen. At least this one is smart enough to not reach for pointed objects immediately. "...Of course. Heading towards Lesalia, mayhaps? Other portions of Ivalice?" Comes Faruja, adding to polite conversation. Even then, he's seated a little more pointed at the man.
Taro	Politely veiled suspicion is acceptable and preferable to pointed objects such as pitchforks and other objects such as ropes and lit torches. "Towards Lesalia," Taro confirms in a polite but vague sort of way between sips of tea. There's little change in his expression even as he's being more pointedly watched. "Unless of course that journey is interrupted by any of those brigands or heathens you've warned me about."
Faruja	Faruja nods at that. A common enough destination, and judging by the clothes, this traveller is likely well off. A bit guarded, but given the state of Ivalice, he can't blame the man. No pitchforks yet, or blaze guns for that matter. Taro might be able to catch the lump of metal, wood, and magical crystal if the rat moves enough though. "Ye shall be safe enough on /that/ road, the Royal Family doth not tolerate such there of all places. The royal guard is a bit paranoid as of late, however, expect to be hassled. If they accuse ye of being an Archadian spy, be polite, and answer their questions. Getting a mouth about ye shall invite only a jail cell. But ye doth not strike me as the argumentative type."
Taro	Well he -is- being questioned by a stranger, and an Inquisitor at that. Likely not the first or last guarded conversation Faruja's likely to have, is it? Taro gives a deep nod at the advice. "Mm. I prefer debate to argument, though I would assume the guards would enjoy neither." A momentary pause. "I'll assume the road in that direction is well patrolled then...they wear a certain uniform? Livery?" He's uncertain which term is used here, which is reflected in his voice as he asks.
Faruja	"Nay. /I/ have almost been assaulted for the wrong turn of phrase. Take it from personal experience." A deep scowl here. Someone doesn't like the Lionsguard. Then the rat nods. "Blue and silver over a yellow Lion's crest. They art called the Lionsguard, or at least the one ye run into if ye art lucky. Person guard, those, but they art oft reduced to patrol in these troubled times. More reasonable on the whole if ye art polite, but they art oft knowing of the Holy Sword. Pious and good men and women on the whole." His gaze softens on the last bit. Conflicted, perhaps? "Otherwise, ye shall find either Red upon black with a lion's crest being the Order of the Southern Sky, or White upon blue with the same, Order of the Northern Sky. They art far less polite and more like to swing a sword at first unreasonable suspicion. Best avoided if possible." He explains.
Taro	Another nod, and the information is tucked away for both the immediate and more distant future. "Then I will watch my words closely and keep my tone civil. I would prefer to not cause any undue trouble." Taro sets his cup lightly on the table, again canting his head slightly to one side as he looks at Faruja. Or in the direction of him - slightly off a bit, not meeting his eyes. "Do you normally give advice to random travellers like this?"
Faruja	Faruja smiles at that much. "Good. A wise tongue remains attached, as an old mentor of mine once said. When the opportunity arrives? Yes. We hath enough problems without some innocent traveller running about ignorant to things that couldst land them in a cell or worse. Half the time 'tis ones of mine own calling that end up being forced to sort the matter out when the royal family and other points of authority in the land disagree." A dramatic wave of the hand. "One less potential bit of paperwork when I couldst be doing things objectively more important, /and/ keeps a fellow being of the Lord alive. Win-win, as ye humans say."
Taro	Though he doesn't smile as such, the corners of Taro's lips curl ever so slightly, and the corners of his eyes crinkle. There's more humor in his voice that his face doesn't properly convey. "I rather like my tongue where it is, yes. And I've no desire to quarrel with you or yours today." Another time, perhaps, but that is not in his current plans. "I thank you for your enlightened self-interest and will put your advice to use."
Faruja	"If a man cannot hold virtue in his heart, then let him turn his sins to holy purpose! Thus said Saint Angelica, the fourth of Saint Ajora's disciples, commonly known as the pardoner." Then, the rat shrugs. "Just be careful. Enough death in this world. Bloody sick of it all. If a bit more actually followed the Saint's teachings, they /mayhaps/ we wouldst not be in this mess." A frustrated growl. Then a sigh, and he devours his tea, refills it, and pours some whiskey into it. "If ye hath any questions, ask. And forgive mine grumbling, politics and war grinds at the soul."
Taro	The additional libation is noted with a mildly ached eyebrow, but far be it for Taro to tell him not to indulge in a little self-poisoning. No, he merely tops off his own cup with more from the teapot at his own table. "Perhaps," he agrees, though followed by, "though it seems no matter which world one lives in, there is always trouble. Along with politics, provided there's enough civilization to have one."
Faruja	Faruja shudders a bit at the reminder. "God willing, we shall not see such things. Again, I shouldst say. This land was nearly destroyed once in ages long, long past." Explains the rat, a font of knowledge today. "Doth ye hail from such ruined places Ser?" Faruja has seen more than one, and they scare him.
Taro	Another arched eyebrow. "Mm. Compared to that, much pales by comparison. Though there must be some troubles, or else why would the royal guards be patrolling the roads?" The question is somewhat rhetorical, the tone as such. His gaze shifts to his teacup as he takes it up again. "I have seen such ruined places, yes, the products of past wars. My hope is to one day make one of them habitable again..." A small, too-graceful shrug that does not disturb his drink. "Whether it will be in my lifetime, I cannot say. Still, the effort is made and even the failures bring knowledge."
Faruja	Faruja coughs lightly at the mention of such worlds being restored. "...Truly? Quite the grand ambition." No immediate denouncements. After all, there are a number of ways one can restore ruined buildings and farmland without resorting to blasphemy. Indeed, the prospect is a bit intriguing. "My, my, my, a year ago I wouldst call ye mad. A scientist then? A mage?"
Taro	Ah, but one man's blasphemy is another man's dogma... "Closer to the former than the latter," is Taro's reply. "Though I've heard it said that sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." He gives another small shrug. "I agree it is ambitious, but if we do not reach, how would we ever know what is within our grasp?"
Faruja	Faruja snorts. "Oh, please, 'tis a tired cliche, that! It all hinges on the crux of intellect and spirituality." Complains the rat. He /hates/ that comparison, though being a Burmecian might explain it. They can be famous technophobes in some cases. "Reaching is one thing, but one must temper ambition with caution and morality. Otherwise, like many a sorcerer, ye become naught more than a monster without ethics and all the horrid things that lead to it."
Taro	Taro brings his cup to his lips and has a draught of tea. It hides the beginnings of a smirk and drowns the chance of laughter. He is, by his own admission, a monster. "A cliche, perhaps, but there is some truth to it," he answers as he lowers his cup again. "If one does not understand how something works, then its workings are a mystery regardless of whether it was built by an engineer or crafted by a mage, hm?"
Faruja	Thankfully Faruja doesn't catch the gesture. Thank goodness for tea! Faruja finally gives some amount of admission. "I suppose there /is/ that. Mmmph. Give me magic any day, far more controlled than something unreliable like technology. Then again, mayhaps 'tis just this world." And deep, deep cultural bias on his part.
Taro	The arched eyebrow, now that's something he cannot so easily hide, and so it's there to be seen when Faruja utters 'unreliable' and 'technology' in the same sentence. His experience is quite the opposite...Still, Taro does not press the matter, replying with, "We all have our preferences, I suppose."
Faruja	Faruja gives a shrug. "I suppose." Then, he slowly stands, offering a bow after paying for the meal. "Good day to thee, traveller. I hope ye find safe roads. Go with God, my child." He finally says before heading out! Duty calls!