As Dae speaks to the acolyte, Zara wanders over into the cirle. Even with her eyes closed she can feel the presence of the Light and she stands in rapt attentiveness. The Light saturated every part of her, warmth emminated from His Presence, enwrapping and filling her with Light. Yet words fell far short of what one felt with held in the Light.

What passed between herself and the Light was known only to them, but she express in an unspoken prayer was that Septimus would learn to make better choices, and that one day he could ask forgiveness from his child Rose, for allowing himself to become something Rose would have never understood, if she lived. She even asked forgiveness for her unkind thoughts about the "Royal" Ivae. Not that she ever voiced them, even to Dae, but she had thought them.

As she broke contact she voiced one last pray. "I wish to help our group succeed. I know it is by your will I am here, and I am ready to serve you."

As Zara steps from the Circle she see Dae also leaving and she joins her.

From there it is onto the Golden Cauldron and Zara is almost bouncing along side of Dae. She knows her half sister enough that does not interrupt her with the thousands of questions that came to mind.

What would it be like? Would there be crowds of rowdy patrons, gambling, drinking and wenching? Would it be a smoky den of thieves? What about a Bard, or dancing girls?

By the time they were led in the double doors Zara's imagination a had concocted a hundred different images of what it would be like.

She stopped just inside the door and stared out like a gawky teen, which is what she was. Not one of her images fit the upper end Tavern/Inn that was the Golden Cauldron. There was a short entrance hall and to the immediate left was an open set of double doors leading into the common room. There was a bit of a crowd, finishing dinner, relaxing, conversing, listening to a bard off to one side. Most of the clientle were middle class, locals and merchants. A couple of young officers were standing over by the fireplace sticking hot pokers into mugs of cider. The smell of apples, cinnamon and cloves filled the air around them. Serving girls, not wearing blouses so low cut that showed more breast that they covered, moved quickly about the tables, but no patron every pinched them on the rear, or grabbed one onto his lap. The Bard was not singing an Epic Tale with a voice so exquisite that it could charm stars from the sky. Not that his voice was bad, infact the Bard had a very pleasant voice.

But there was no gambling, no fights, no.....nothing.

Zara was disappointed.

He was a titan.

They always thought of the world as sliding off Septimus, like water off a duck’s back. Its cruelty never seemed to stick, never seem to ruffle his feathers, at least not for long. Sometimes – rarely – he would twitch at some particularly acerbic remark, hunching his shoulders, but the moment would pass.

At least until the next time humanity rained on his parade.

He came to think of it as being as inevitable as the weather; People would be always sunny, always bright and cheerful like the days that never change. And him? He was something else, like the weather across the ocean maybe. Idyllic upon the surface but truly all thunderstorms and moods, attempting to wash all away before him, failing miserably. The world was immutable, unchanging. At his darkest, most hateful days he thought of it solely as the desert.

Nothing but emptiness for miles.

It was unfair, he knew that. He had always known that. Even in the desert there are things below the surface. There were things below the surface in him too, but he had yet to dig for it. It was enough to know that even when he raged, even when his tongue lashed out and he spilled forth venom at the easiest target, the world would be there to take it. Words would have to sink into him like water into the desert and disappear beneath the surface without a trace. Like it was with himself.

He had forgotten, however, just how destructive storms could be. He had to deal with the victims of one once, and the ocean surrounded them, dwarfed them, tossed them in her loveless arms. She carried them for miles and left them broken like dolls upon some distant shore. He had forgotten the power of water. Given enough time even the smallest trickle could carve through rock, leaving gullies and crevasses that could run miles deep. The same thunderstorms that washed his first loves away could wash away topsoil, scouring the surface clear to expose what’s underneath. The cruelty that slid off his back a hundred times before could do the same.

On that enormous mass of blackness there was not a gleam to be seen, not a sound to be heard. It was gliding irresistibly towards them and yet seemed already within reach of the hand. His keen gaze searched the abysmal blackness for the darkness that he sensed still lurked. Lifting his head and arching his neck back he observed the Moon hanging in the sky, bright, like orb of marble in the night sky, darkness all around it, its light beating back the ebony cloak. The Moon's glow cast its light on his broken form, glowing with the brilliance of the Moon, his alabaster skin, smooth and unmarred in the light. Coral lips, deep and full, curved in a slight smile as he gazed upon Luna, sensing beauty even within deepest darkness. Night had fallen, wrapping all creatures in its deep folds, embracing the world with inky arms, banishing the strange forbidding.

The darkness dispersed.

Faint orbs of light guided him as his hand curved gently about the knob of the door. His heart beat fiercely in the gloom, pushing back the chill that hung like the touch of death. So deep was the chill that vapor was exhaled with each laboured breath. The bleeding had long ceased, but pain, dulled and insistent, tormented him. His ragged jerkin, blood-stained and pitiful was abruptly covered from sight as his fumbling hands closed the dark cloak about his shoulders. His thin countenance was shrouded in the hood, watchful and forbidding. His eyes closed as he listened to the joviality of the tavern.

He opened the door.

The bard cut off in song. The quiet and sluggish mumblings of drunkards tapered into silence. Suspicious eyes turned towards him as silence enveloped him and suffocated him. He cast his despairing eyes around at the silent, rugged faces, and saw not one. He ached. Pain was the only thing that managed to convince him that he was still alive. He had cheated Death once again it seemed. Although it was another day of destruction, he almost needed longer beneath his listless dreams. For whilst others escaped into the realms of dream and imagination, he seized the opportunity to refocus his reality and redraft his life plan. It came to him so clearly, as obvious as a cliché. Deep down he only really craved one thing. The happiness so prematurely snatched from him.

They would all have to realize that they were no longer the children with their fingers in the dam, trying to hold back the flood. The dams had burst and everything had been washed away, but it was not them who were drowning.

Zara saw him, a dark aspect in the door way. So far her expectations for a rough and tumble tavern were all wrong. So he was a bright point in what had started out as a very odd night.

Caught in the exhuberance of the moment she waved to him from their corner table. Dae had singled it out as a place for speaking in moderate privacy. So far the they had spent a boring amount of time waiting, and though the bard was passable and the ale, the one small cup Dae allowed her, was ok. Had Dae's hand not restrained her she would had skipped up to Septimus and dragged him back by the hand. So she wiggled in her seat as he looked for them, having not seen her waving hand yet.

She was sure her waving hand caught his attention as his slow turn stopped in their direction. Then he came like a dark wave, the hood of his cloak pulled forward, the dark material of the full cloak rippling around him as he moved. It was clearly evident that there was a sword being carried under his cloak.

GAME POST

Just as Septimus arrived a serving girl came up with a tray a placed it on the table and off loaded 3 filled mugs and picked up the empty two. The smell of hot mulled cider rose with the steam.

"Begging you pardons," she dropped her voice to the barest whisper, "but I was told to give this to you," and she slipped a paper off the tray so as none could see.

Dae slid the paper to her, it was sealed with the prince's signet. She showed the the seal to Septimus, before opening it.

Follow this server to a private dining room.

"Your private dining room is ready," the girl said in a normal level, "if you will please follow me I will lead you there.

The girl swept up the tray with the two empty mugs and despite the speed and the deep tilt the mug miraculously stayed put then waited as Dae and Zara stood.

Weeding her way through the table she leads you to a set of doors and behind them is a hall. Down at the end of the hall two men stand in conversation. Before you get to them the girl stops before the middle of three doors and opens it.

"Your guest is waiting." As they step she closes the door.

A figure in a deep green cloak is standing before the fire, but turns as the door is closed.

"Good Evening," the well modulated voice of the Prince greets them. Please sit, dinner is on the table."

And it was, fat roasted capons, game pies, a number of vegetale dishes, bread, butter, cheese, and honey.

"It seem you three are what is left of those who came to my house. Please be seated and eat. Then we will discuss why I and you are here.

Sorry this thread has ended.