Information

Erno has a minion!

Jovis the Florella

Erno
Legacy Name: Erno

The

Graveyard Mahar
Owner:

tendril

Age: 8 years, 4 months, 1 week

Born: December 13th, 2015

Adopted: 8 years, 4 months, 1 week ago

Adopted: December 13th, 2015

Statistics

Level: 1
Strength: 10
Defense: 10
Speed: 10
Health: 10
HP: 10/10
Intelligence: 0
Books Read: 0
Food Eaten: 0
Job: Unemployed

No outfit found

[spoiler="stuff]Erno lives in a strangely open field inside of a small home with a large door. He greets you before you even reach it.
"You must be the sage of Folaigh." You nod and try to politely ask if you're bothering him, but before you can say much of anything, he interrupts -
"Laoise sent you? Well I was about to gather flowers. You can come with me or you can not." He is holding a shallow basket. You agree to come with him.
He ties his beard into a braid and heads east.
It feels like miles that you walk through the gaping field of tall, yellow grasses.
Erno doesn't say much for more than half the of the journey, except for the occasional "not much further now."

You don't have to ask Erno many questions - he has a way of letting you know the exact amount of information he's willing to give you, and he says things to answer questions you never asked, but feel that he has heard before.
"So I am Erno, as you were told. I am the under keeper. I am a high keeper, in a similar way to Laoise, but also in a very different way."
Though there are no signs of fruit trees around, Erno picks up a rotting apple off the ground and bites into it. You try not to squirm.
"This field may seem quiet to you, but ancients rest here, and in truth, the field is buzzing with their energies."
The humidity begins to surround you as you listen to Erno. You find a small crunch of soil hiding on your tongue. You look to the sky and see the clouds moving swiftly above you.
You feel dizzy and keep your eyes to the heels of Erno's muddy boots.
"I exist in two places," he continues, "in this realm, and in the realm of the passed. No one but me and the deceased can enter the second realm, but I am the underkeeper, and that is my duty."

Finally, you reach a copse of blooming trees and wildflowers. There is a small stream nearby and you begin to walk towards it.
"Don't go near that water," Erno says forthright.
"Why?" You ask, confused. The stream sounds lovely and you are thirsty. You turn around to hear his answer, and he is staring straight into your pupils.
"The dead are in that water. Don't." You take a step back and nod.
"The dead are in these trees and in these flowers, too" he explains, "so it'd be best if you didn't touch them."
You nod again and rest your hands in front of you, intertwined.
You stay close to Erno, your body slightly rigged, careful not to touch anything.
You watch as he clips sprigs of yellow and white blooms from the trees. The ground is wet and starting to seep into your shoes.
"You know, while you're at it," you can hear a coy smirk in his words "the dead are in the soil most of all...so don't touch that either. Maybe standing on one leg would help."
He laughs so large his gums show. Your brow furrows but you can't help but to laugh as well.
"So, what are you gathering these -"
"An ancient has passed and is on his way to me. I welcome every soul with flowers from this thicket."
"Oh I see," you pause, "which ancient? What happened?"
He stops and inspects you.
"Well you do have a bit of a large snoot now that I look at you. No wonder you're being so nosey."
You blush and apologize. He shrugs.
"Just not sure how he'd feel about being introduced to you, is all. I run a very private business."
You say very little the rest of the time in the copse. Finally his basket is full of blossoms and he is ready to return.
"Care for lunch?" You take your time answering, thinking only of the rotten apple.
"I save the rotten fruit for myself, not to worry." He tugs on your arm and you're on your way through the open land again.

His home is dark and simple. There are few windows in the house, and all of them are covered by single bolts of cottony fabric. He asks you to have a seat at his table - it sits only two. There is a tray of candles in the middle and they smell like lavender and anise.
"I must attend to this." He says, lifting up the basket of blooms.
"Of course," you say, pulling out a chair.
He goes out the back door of the home and is gone for a long while. You hear him speaking but haven't the slightest idea of what he's saying. The smell of burning sage comes in through the cracks in the floor. Finally he returns.

"Sorry for the wait." He sets the basket on the floor and puts a kettle on the range of his petite wood stove. "So sage of Folaigh, what do you inquire, require, or feel is dire?"
"Mmm...well," you begin to realize you really have no idea what to ask him, but visited him simple because Laoise offered his name.
"I suppose I'd like to know whatever you can tell me, really; about yourself maybe, or what you do as an underkeeper? Do you enjoy it? I wouldn't mind knowing something about ancients who have passed, either."
"That's quite a bit of suggestions for a 'whatever' answer." The familiar smirk comes from the corner of his full lips. You return the gesture with a full smile.
"It's good you're curious, though. The world needs more genuine curiosity.
I am Erno, as I said. So there's that. Being an underkeepr, I'm the keeper to all ancients who have once lived, as Laoise is the keeper to all ancients that are living. As I said. Both Laoise and I will die when the last ancient dies. Our jobs will be done.
I don't do much as the underkeeper other than guide ancients to their resting place. Every soul rests somewhere different within an unearthly realm. I help them get there. I'm not sure who will help me, though..." his hazel eyes shift downward into the direction of nothing but thought. "Cross that bridge when we get to it, as they say. Anyway, at first I had no idea why I was chosen to be the underkeeper. My ancient, like my wife's, died in The Great War. I was saved at that moment and made the underkeeper. It was very strange for a while. I see now that it suits me, and I can still communicate with my wife at times. I am grateful for that."
"Well that only leaves me with more questions..." You wait for his permission before continuing.
"That seems to be the way it works." He chuckles. Taking out a pocket watch from the front pocket of his loosely fitted pants, he places it on the table and pops it open. The clock no longer works, but on the other side, there is a picture of a woman. Her shoulder length hair is dark and puffy, with flowers all through it. Her chocolaty skin is gleaming. She's laughing and her nose is scrunched up. Her front canine is slightly out of place. Her happiness is contagious, even from a picture.
"She's wonderful."
"She is. That's Jovis, my wife of 215 years."
"Laoise mentioned The Great War, what was it exactly?"
"Ah...The Great War was...a strenuous war between a horrific evil and all the ancients it took to balance said evil. My ancient was a raven named Lon. He died then, as did many others, including my wife and her ancient, a small bat named Myrtle. All of them are with me now, in some form or another. You should talk to Chava about the war if you're still curious. She was the great successor."
The kettle whistles and Erno slips the watch back into his pocket and turns from the table, relieved. He takes two mismatched cups from the cupboard and pours the water over black tea leaves. He adds a spoonful of honey to both cups.
"Oh, is honey okay? Too late now if it isn't."
You smile and nod.

The tea is sweet and almost smokey. Erno sets out a large loaf of bread and a jar of mint jam. The two of you are quiet while you eat.