Meeting Torel

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Meeting Torel

   When I first came to the Order of The Serpent, I discovered that it was very different from any other order I'd ever been involved with. Instead of greeting me with a long ceremony and ritual, they welcomed me with a sort of board meeting. Instead of a huge hall for ceremony, their building's largest room was a kind of theater in the round, where anyone of importance could gather if anything needed to be discussed. They were dressed in suits, not robes, and wore no more than a single pentacle a piece, if that. The slow, lingering migraine that I had developed from years of dealing with the other orders of The Clan began to lift.
     Many of them had gathered in this room to acknowledge my arrival. A good number of seats were empty, but the educational faculty were all there. Among them was a young, dark haired man who sat back in his chair. Though his eyes were focused, a thick cloud of nausea and boredom had settled over him. He looked like a human who had eaten three containers of bean dip, and washed it down with a half bottle of tequila: dull, bloated, and in lots of pain. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, occasionally checking his watch as the man and woman who were running the meeting rambled on about their great aspirations for a new generation of students. He must have made quite a spectacle of himself, or I don't think that I would have noticed.
     At the exact point where their speech had become excessive, I smiled politely, and this one rolled his eyes. When the meeting was concluded, he was the very first one to stand and walk out. The rest of them stayed behind to be introduced to me. A man who struck me as being an Elder informed me that the one who had left was Torel. He gave a last name which must have meant "God's Hammer" in a language that Ellanna spoke, but that I do not, because I hear only the translation, and not the actual name. Whatever is was, it wasn't a common last name, but rather, a blatant translation, created to go along with the first name "Torel" (Thor's Angel) This makes me think that actual members of the order are given names to replace their mortal names once they are brought in. "Mjollinar," the Nordic word for "Thor's Hammer" has been suggested, but it doesn't sound right. I know that Ellanna parodied it by calling him "Torel Glockenspiel."
    The Elder told me of Torel's exact rank and his station. The way in which he did so made me think that Torel was owed some small degree of regard, but that this Elder didn't like him at all. The sideways glances and bobbing heads seemed to say that most people felt the same way, although this may have simply been intuited, or imagined.
    My dealings with Torel thereafter were minimal, and very strained. That is, until he decided to bring a new child to the order.
    At first, I didn't hear about his child. Then some people (I want to say students) started chattering about her, and how she wouldn't come out of her room. During the day, when she slept, a poltergeist was reported, throwing objects about, and usually damaging Torel in the process. A meeting was held to try and determine what to do. They asked me what my take on it was. I suspected that it was Torel's child that was responsible, but didn't want to say it. I think they all suspected.
   "Whatever is causing the poltergeist activity, I believe that Torel is the focus,"
   "What do you recommend?" Someone asked.
   "My suggestion is that we remove him to some location far, far away from the rest of us... like outside for example... for at least three days." No one was amused, at least, not that I could tell. They shuffled their papers and cleared their throats. "What?"
   "I think perhaps we should consider some more... orthodox solutions first."
   "Oh, nonsense," I said, "The sunlight will do him good, he's been looking a bit pale lately anyhow."
   One of the women smiled, and the man running the meeting continued, "Nonetheless, have you any more practical solutions?" I thought. I didn't.
   "I think that you all suspect the true cause." I said, "I think that what we need is to separate Torel from the girl. I would be more than willing to watch her, if you think that is best. If not, I'm sure that there are plenty of surrogate sires available. What recommends me, however, is that I've had personal experience with dealing with my own personal 'poltergeist.'"
    The room responded with nods and satisfied grunts of approval.
    I cannot tell whether Torel was present, or if he was sent for, but I clearly remember his reaction. At the suggestion, he stood, and said, very emphatically, "Over my cold, dead ashes!"
    The room was astounded. I don't remember what happened after that.