September 7th/Sunday Evening Central Ralnaria
Kal Ajin

“If there really is a large tribe of lizardmen going to attack the humans than they want to know about it. If you can tell the humans all you know, they will probably let you stay, perhaps as a special ‘guardian’ of their ruins? Would you like that? You wouldn’t be bothered by people coming here so much, and they would be grateful and perhaps even try to find your tribe for you?”

The creature regarded the kender silently for a long moment. Turning it’s head, it regarded the hooded figure of Scourge, and then his bird. It’s insect eyes returned to the Kender.

“If Kshhhtakekekuk tribe live, then Kshhhtakekekuk find them. Kshhhtakekekuk not need help. Kshhhtakekekuk not want remain in ruin long either. But Kshhhtakekekuk not go to soft skin hive. Kshhhtakekekuk be attacked by soft skins. Soft skins send one soft skin to Kshhhtakekekuk and Kshhhtakekekuk tell it story of lizard men.”

September 7th/Sunday Evening Central Ralnaria/Siris River
El Jalnine/ The Riversnakes Den
“Murderer or not, you’ve shown yourself to be the most cowardly of dogs,” Marie all but growled. “Let the woman go and I’ll stand with you until the watch arrives. Harm her and your life is forfeit. How many others here need to face you down before you realize you haven’t a choice? Set the woman aside and you won’t have her blood on your hands.”

The man looked at Marie in surprise.

“Who are you? No it doesn’t matter. Don’t come any nearer, or the girl dies.”

The girl squeaked. A small streak of blood ran down her neck.

“Are you deaf, soldier?”

The man was shouting at the knight who stood in the doorway, as if in a daze.

“I said move away from the door. Do it now, or I’ll cut her. You all think I’m afraid to die? I’ll bring as many of you down as I can with me!”

He was panting, and his eyes were fervent. He was drunk, and possibly under the influence of else, and he was very serious.

September 7th/Sunday Evening Central Ralnaria/Siris River
El Jalnine
Cathedral of Dawn
Both men stared at Teros incredulously. He could be uncertain what they thought, but both of them had their weapons sheathed. In the wake of the holy flashed, the courtyard was washed in the deepest of shadows, and the sun had finally sank beyond the western hills.

“Hajin Ra?”

The knight studied Teros, as if measuring him.

“Defiling thief or not, what would bring you to those grounds?”

Suddenly, one of the great wooden doors of the cathedral creaked open, and an old man swathed in silk robes of deep blues and rich bronze shading emerged. His white beard flowed to his stomach in great braids, and around his head was a bronze circlet. The two knights who had been questioning Teros knelt to him, and he casually waved them to their feet.

“You have played your part, Sirs, but I will take it from here.”

Though he was older, he descended the steps with the grace of a man half his age. Teros caught the glimpse of a blade at his hip, beneath his outer robes. He approached and laid his hand on Teros’ shoulder.

“Come with me, young warrior. You will tell me how you came to aquire such a sacred artifact, and I will help to guide you on the ladies path.”

With that he lead Teros away from the two warriors, who stared after the old man with a deep respect Teros had rarely seen. Though it was dark, the old man lead him through the courtyard and between the towers of the cathedral, to a garden encircled by towering pomegranite trees. A circle of stone benches lay within, encircling a stone statue of a warrior, dressed in ceremonial robes, and wielding a curved sword towards the heavens.

Gesturing for Teros to take a seat in one of the benches, before following his own advice, the old man said

“I am Headmaster Suten Kar’noth, and I am also head of this most sacred of Cathedrals. I am a member of the ring of Elders, of the Order of the Golden Dawn. Will you tell me why you were in The Land of Glass?”

Upon seeing the old man appear and the guards kneel Teros felt out of place and more than a little awkward. But the man acted in a manner that was befitting the amount of respect he was recieving, handling it with wisdom and grace and moving Teros into the Cathedral in no time at all.

Though Teros knew he was before someone important it wasn't until the old man told him that he realized just how important. His first reaction was to bow or show some sign of respect, but it was far too late for that and so he was left feeling a step behind and desperately trying to catch up. Instead he doing anything he merely sat down on the bench and let a moment of silence come between them before talking.

"Sir...I am on a quest that has been appointed to me not only by Lady Lavuria, but by many of the other Gods as well."
From here he continued to talk, slowly so that he could he try to think of any of the small details he may of otherwise forgotten. When they came to the part of the leaf he brought out his own and handed it to him. When it came time for his shameful abandon of his allies he mentioned that as well.

But it was the tale of Hajin Ra where he truly left out no detail. He described the place and even went a bit into his personal thoughts on the sacred ruins being used again. "I feel that Lavuria was surely watching over us, all of us." he added at one point. "We escaped without major injury, much less any deaths."
The story continued right up until he came to the city, and then he ended it. He waited patiently, and rather confidently, for the old man to pass judgement.

Hidden in a shady corner of the Riversnake’s Den, Damien sat deep in thought, scraping around absently at a plate of something called couscous that had been set before him some time ago. Likewise, a once fragrant mug of tea he had purchased now sat cool and somewhat bland. Yet, he’d hardly noticed. The small stack of coins he’d placed on the table edge had been collected however long since he’d set them down.

So far from home… Here he was, in a land he’d only heard of in stories, but had never before been. Damien had seen so much, had witnessed and partaken in so much… Wasn’t that what he’d wanted in the first place? Why he was traveling? No. He couldn’t fool himself. He was running from his past, from himself. And in the process, he’d been roped into something grand. But all it had served was to frighten him. And the fear of Damien LeBlaque was shown in brash, hateful ways.

The chance to do something great, and he was letting his fear of it get the better of him…

The door opened. Damien took a bite of his food, but barely tasted the exotic herbs used to flavour the cereal.

Everybody he was with had dealt with his apathy for so long, and though he could not bring himself to like some of them, he could still see that they all wanted to make a difference. He’d tagged along with them, regardless. Despite their animosity. Despite their differences.

A commotion had broken out in the center of the common room. A glance up showed him a big oaf in polished armour had surged in, shouting about a murderer. His first thought led him to think that perhaps the man was directing at him, and he slunk a bit further back into his seat at this, but logic quickly overruled that. His thought almost brought a laugh, and it certainly made him smile slightly; this fool reminded him of Derak.

He turned his gaze back to his plate, and pushed the tiny grains around aimlessly. Even Derak, whose mind seemed to reside within his belly, had pushed for a good cause. The bard was clearly more intelligent than that man, though definitely weaker of body. It was his tongue and wit that had gotten him this far, had helped him survive. Was he determined to do something good? Why else would he have been allowed to live so long? When he’d toyed with existence by scaring his neck, Scourge had saved him. Despite his antagonistic nature, the elves had pulled him from the Abyss. When the airship fell from the sky, he remained breathing, and when the river serpent had snatching him into the air, he had been able to escape. He defied the gods, but the gods were not all that was out there, that was greater than man. Fate seemed to favour him…

“Hm?” He looked up slightly. Marie had gotten involved in things, and a scarred man with a pointed beard was menacing a young woman with a knife to her throat. From the looks of things, she was wounded, for a thin trail of blood graced her neck. He felt bile rise in his throat as his own delicate fingers carefully traced the scar upon his own throat. Nothing he did before ever seemed to make a difference, except perhaps a negative one… Perhaps this was a chance to change that…

His chair scraped away slowly, and Damien rose to his feet. Straightening out his clothes, he left his rapier leaning against his knapsack so as not to draw attention upon him, but still kept his knives tucked within his sleeves. Just in case.

From the shadows, he seemed almost to materialize as he stepped forth, assessing the situation carefully. The look of fear in the woman’s eyes steeled Damien’s will. Something had to be done.

”From deep within our vaulted hearts,
our wills and thoughts resound,
a selfish act upon our kin,
our souls demons shall hound.
Stay our hands from drinking deep,
our fingers clothed in steel,
lest we spiral unto hell,
in servitude shall we kneel.”
His silken voice began soft, and rose gently in volume as he moved from verse to verse across his poem, however short it may be. It was the best he could think of on the moment, and the lines all reflected the purpose at hand. Through his gifted voicebox he pulled the threads of magic, weaving his words upon them, and working to ensnare the will of the man who would dare hold that woman hostage.

Its time to change things. Its time to make a difference.
(OOC: Damien is attempting to cast Charm Person via poetic verse with the intention of causing the man to release his hostage. If that doesn’t work, and if by chance he gets the chance to attempt another action before the man acts, Damien will try to Fascinate him. If he kills the woman, Damien will immediately hurl a knife at him.

Sorry again about how long this took! I truthfully thought I’d been written out or something.)

September 7th/Sunday Evening Central Ralnaria/Siris River
El Jalnine/ The Riversnakes Den
”From deep within our vaulted hearts,
our wills and thoughts resound,
a selfish act upon our kin,
our souls demons shall hound.
Stay our hands from drinking deep,
our fingers clothed in steel,
lest we spiral unto hell,
in servitude shall we kneel.”
As a single unit, it seemed, the entire tavern turned towards the man who strolled from the shadows of the back corner. There was more that carried the poem he spoke then simple words. There was a force that hung over his soft, musical voice, and a strength that few men could wield with voice alone. The poet was Damien LeBlaque, and his presence would perhaps be as surprising to Marie as it was to the Knight that stood in the doorway, or to any of the patrons who stood crowded the Riversnake’s Den. Though he still looked the same as usual. Pale skin, black garbs, long hair hanging over his face; there was something particularly different about him; Marie noticed. His usually dim, distant eyes were clear…focused. Damien LeBlaque strolled into this conflict of his own free will, and with purpose.

Of all those who bore witness to the appearance of the bard, or the poem he weaved, it seemed that the accused killer, was effected the most. While the poem may have been beautiful on the ears to any others, this mans dark eyes seemed to cloud. His sharp features softened, and his lip seemed to quiver. He looked at Damien, as a man beholding a long lost brother returned from the dead.

“Y-You’re right.”

His grip relaxed and the hand that held the blade withdrew a bit.

“What am I doing? What have I become?!”

In his revelation, he had all but forgotten about his hostage. Suddenly she broke free and fled towards the knight, where she cowered behind him, sobbing into her hands collapsing to her knees.

The man however, still eyed Alrek darkly. His blade remained in his hand, but he made no movement.

Rinrin was grateful to her hosts for giving her the privacy of the garden to herself. Throughout the meal following the song, she could not help but glance towards its entrance every so often. And no sooner had she stepped through the entrance did she feel completely at peace among the tranquillity it emanated. Curiously, she felt it most strongly in the centre clearing of the garden.

Here she found her surroundings brilliantly lit by a beautiful white fountain. In its gentle bubbling and the reflections on the pool surrounding it, Rinrin could feel the warming presence of her goddess. She was calm there, and a wondering smile silently radiated her joy as she lingered.

Before Rinrin could react, the quiet serenity of the garden was interrupted by Conjori. He had run towards a nestle of trees along the side of the clearing, but before the young cleric could wonder as to why, a mystical, deer-like creature stepped out from the trees. She could feel the presence of her Goddess flowing through it. Rinrin could not bring her eyes from it. The creature lowered it’s head, and it’s nose touched Conjori's up-reaching one, and he licked it gently and lovingly, as if he knew this creature and adored it.

The young gnome felt honoured just to stand in the creature's presence. It had lifted its head and regarded the small woman; each stood facing the other, unmoving. Whatever its precise being, Rinrin knew...felt, even, that the creature was holy. She knew she was grinning from ear to ear in happiness...if there was ever a sign from her goddess that she was doing well with her life and her responsibility, this had to be it. As suddenly as it had come, it turned from Conjori's side and disappeared into the shadows. Conjori returned, nuzzling her hand, and they were alone.

Somehow, Rinrin knew she would not find the creature again. It was gone, but the joy it had left in Rinrin was not. She looked down to her dog and hugged him, wondering what he knew of that particular being. She stood up again, looking Conjori over before deciding to look about the garden some more.

Particularly, she wanted to see where the deer-figure had appeared, and if there was anything interesting in the direction it had left, or in the rest of the garden. She would have to be more alert now...perhaps her Goddess meant for her to find even more than just tranquillity in her holy garden? To pass the time while she did this, she spoke with Conjori. Perhaps, as she was thinking just a moment before, he knew something more about the holy figure.

((Speak With Animals ability...I'm fairly certain it's not used up at the moment?))

“Murderer or not, you’ve shown yourself to be the most cowardly of dogs,” Marie all but growled. “Let the woman go and I’ll stand with you until the watch arrives. Harm her and your life is forfeit. How many others here need to face you down before you realize you haven’t a choice? Set the woman aside and you won’t have her blood on your hands.”
The sudden words from the woman had surprised Alcaz, though he did not show it. Obviously she do with of an honorable profession, although her stance on justice was predictably softer than his. He would not be distracted however, he would not let this murderer claim a second victim.

“Are you deaf, soldier?” Alcaz heard the man call out to him. “I said move away from the door. Do it now, or I’ll cut her. You all think I’m afraid to die? I’ll bring as many of you down as I can with me!”
The man was drunk, and clearly out of his league, however, his hostage did give him the upper hand, and Alcaz was at a loss as to how to stop him. Intimidation had done not but get him into this mess already, perhaps something else would have to...

”From deep within our vaulted hearts,
our wills and thoughts resound,
a selfish act upon our kin,
our souls demons shall hound.
Stay our hands from drinking deep,
our fingers clothed in steel,
lest we spiral unto hell,
in servitude shall we kneel.”
Alcaz's concentration was momentarily broken as a voice drifted from the corner of the tavern. Although Alcaz had not noticed him before a man had come forth, relatively unarmored and unarmed. With a gesture he pointed toward the fugitive, who afters a moments silence seemed to loosen his grip allowing the moment Alcaz had hoped would come. The woman broke free of his grip and dashed toward seeking shelter behind him and crying into her hands. Sorry for what she had endured on his account, he made sure to position himself between her and her former captor, hoping somehow that putting him out of sight would ease her mind. His hostage free, and seemingly surrounded, his target would have no choice but to surrender now.

"You," Alcaz said with just a hint of satisfaction in his voice, a mailed fist extending his sword toward the man, "...have nowhere left to run. Drop your blade and submit to justice now, or I shall have no choice but to end your life just as you ended the lives of however man innocents. I offer you now one last chance, drop your blade and come with me."
(OOC: If he doesn't seem to be following instructions Alcaz will move to teach him the error of his ways, ensure that he remains between the man and the girl at all times while doing so. Posted! Don't skin me!)

Deep within his breast, a feeling Damien had not felt for many years began to boil about. Elation? Yes… He’d done something good. He’d finally made a difference. The girl was saved, and clearly safe behind the big fool that reminded him so much of Derak. There was only one thing left that needed resolving, and that was to disarm the fellow of his knife.

In this current situation, the demand the knight made was justifiable, but would likely not serve its purpose well enough. Simply telling him to put away his weapon and go along with him would likely only further agitate the already unstable thug. But perhaps he could work this out and prevent any blood from staining the floor. After all, the power of his enchantment was still influencing him. He could pull and twitch the strings of magic to fit the situation.

“It would be wise to accompany him, my friend.” Damien said softly, keeping his hands at his sides to show he was not intending to assault. “Nobody needs to die here, not today. We can all go home from here. There’s no need for weapons. See?” He lifted his hands, moving his fingers about as if to show they were empty, while secretly gesturing to empower his effect further. “Please, set down your knife. This man is here to help you get home. You’ve had too much to drink; he’ll make sure you get back safely.”

With a flourish of his left hand, Damien indicated the stool behind the thug, motioning he should set the knife down upon it. With his right, he swept towards the knight, though he kept his fingers poised to withdraw a knife, just in case things got ugly and his spell failed to work. He hoped that his enchantment still held sway over the man’s drunken mind. There were a lot of innocents who could get hurt here.

(OOC: Damien is hoping Charm Person is still holding, and will attempt to convince the man to go with Alcaz peacefully. Should things escalate, he’ll try to take down the thug with a throwing knife.)

Marie looked from one man to another, such a study in contrast that a bard could not have described them better. As if the thought itself summoned him, Damien’s voice wove through the crowd, preceding the dark clad man who sang.

Marie held her breath in surprise, unwilling to do anything to tip the scales of fate against them. Here was Damien, acting with deliberation and purpose, and her eyes fairly glowed with approval. Daring to not even look at her companion, she instead watched the man with the hostage.

Damien’s song appeared to have the desired effect: the man looked confused, besotted, almost, and his grip loosened on the woman, who scuttled away with alacrity. Marie stood her ground, but with the man still holding the knife, albeit loosely, she didn’t want to seem threatening while Damien worked his magic.

"You," the other man said, oblivious to Damien’s efforts, if not his results, “have nowhere left to run. Drop your blade and submit to justice now, or I shall have no choice but to end your life just as you ended the lives of however man innocents. I offer you now one last chance, drop your blade and come with me."

Marie groaned inwardly and flashed the man a look, but Damien’s concentration never wavered. The bard smiled as they were merely old friends chatting over their cups and urged the man gently to set his weapon aside. Still Marie stood by, ready to react, but unwilling to make any gesture that would push the man back into aggression. With predators, staring was an act of defiance, so she shifted her gaze to not avoid the man’s eyes, instead watching his body language.